Taking Back the Crown
by JCMorrigan
Summary: Mozenrath. Archibald Snatcher. Roman Torchwick. Mad Madam Mim. Yzma. The Huntsman. Wuya. Ayam Aghoul. Their mission: take over the multiverse, or look fabulous trying. Rated T for swearing, steamy implications and bloody battles. Contains slash and het shipping.
1. Villains of a Sort

1\. Villains of a Sort

At the outer reaches of the kingdom of Radiant Garden, there was a dilapidated castle known as Villain's Vale. It was erected in the shadow of the much larger castle that belonged to the kingdom's civilians and Restoration Committee. Once, Maleficent and her many associates had gathered in the shadowy darkness of that castle, utilizing its many resources, such as its raw magic pipeline and its extensive library, for their own gain. Now, however, they were forced into the rickety Vale, their numbers considerably thinned. Captain Hook had been deemed unfit for the operation long ago, and Maleficent had turned her back on him, opting to use him as a transformative vessel for the Darkness instead during the year of Sora's sleep. Oogie Boogie had more or less turned in his resignation when last he and Maleficent had worked together, and she wished nothing more to do with him. That left only Hades, Ursula, and Jafar to answer her call…as well as Pete. How Maleficent had ended up with Pete on her side, she to that day was not quite sure, and it almost seemed beneath her to even entertain the idea of working with him, but all the same, he seemed to be serving his purpose well, and he had yet to truly and utterly disappoint.

Maleficent looked around the circular chamber at the heart of Villain's Vale to see them lined up around her: Ursula, Jafar, Hades, Pete. It was this group she had to rely on in order to plan her next move. Apart from Pete, they were all known backstabbers and connivers, and any one of them could turn on Maleficent or each other in the blink of an eye. That only made them all the more suited for the job.

"We've little time," Maleficent insisted sternly to her associates. "That fool Lea foiled my plans to retrieve the Date Escape."

"I'll bet that was embarrassing," Ursula chuckled.

"SILENCE!" Maleficent rounded on Ursula. Jafar, Hades, and Pete all flinched at the outburst, but Ursula remained unfazed. "The king and his little friends were all simply lucky. However, they also realized there is strength in numbers. Perhaps we are to take a cue from them. Against any one of us, they are weak. Against many of us at once…"

"We're unstoppable!" Pete volunteered.

"Do not interrupt when I am speaking," Maleficent snapped.

"Eh, shame about the captain and the bag o' bugs," Hades grumped.

"They were more hindrance than help," Maleficent reminded him.

"Still, couldn't we have gotten a few more people to back us up?" Hades inquired. "I mean, look at all the key-brats running around out there. And every one of them doesn't bat an eyelash at the thought of fighting a god. We REALLY wanna put them in their place, we gotta pack a punch. What about that lion guy Pete was talking to over in the Pridelands? Didn't he have a load of Darkness?"

"Y'mean Scar?" Pete clarified. "If I never work with that guy again, it'll be too soon! Oh, sure, he was good at beatin' people up, but it was always whine about this! Whine about that! Ooh, nobody listens to me when I'm not the king, la-dee-da! Ix-NAY on it!"

"I'd heard tell of a swordsman in the Land of Dragons whose prowess with the Darkness was nothing short of impressive," Jafar brought up.

"Shan-Yu," Maleficent clarified. "The leader of the Hun army. He could prove promising…"

"Or," a disembodied voice echoed throughout the chamber, "instead of putting your denarii on a tired old horse, you could put it on a unicorn."

"WHA?" Pete scampered to hide behind Ursula. "WHO SAID THAT?"

Ursula rolled her eyes. "Minions," she muttered.

A mass of blue light, roughly the size and shape of a human being, glimmered into view in the center of the circle. When it abated, it left in its wake a young man clothed entirely in royal blue with a billowing black cape. His manner of dress marked him immediately as hailing from the same parts as Jafar. Hovering over his shoulder was a most bizarre creature: an eel that could fly, sporting a toothy grin.

"That would be me," the young man introduced, giving a bow. "Mozenrath. Lord of the Black Sands."

Before Maleficent could say a word, Jafar burst into laughter, throwing back his head. Once he'd composed himself, he announced, "The boy lies. The Black Sands are just outside the borders of Agrabah, and they are ruled by the tyrannical Lord Destane."

"They WERE ruled by the tyrannical Lord Destane," Mozenrath corrected, "until I deposed him and robbed him of his humanity."

Something about that phrase struck a chord with Hades, but he wasn't quite sure what it meant. He had the most peculiar feeling he'd seen this young man before.

"And you would be Jafar, the royal Agrabanian vizier?" Mozenrath countered. "The tale of your exploits has reached all the way to the Black Sands."

"I'm quite sure it has," Jafar replied.

"The story of how you overpowered that entire kingdom is adorable," Mozenrath scoffed, "but all in all, it's nothing compared to what I've accomplished."

"Mozenrath actually VERY impressed with you!" the eel told Jafar, confused as to why his master had just lied.

"XERXES…" Mozenrath gritted his teeth. "NOT. ANOTHER. WORD."

"Enough of this idle chatter," Maleficent said stonily. "Tell us why you have come here."

"I've always set my sights high," Mozenrath began. "Back home, there are many kingdoms I've wanted to conquer. In fact, you could say I wanted the entire world. It's come to my attention recently that there isn't just one, but SEVERAL worlds out there for the taking. Ever since Aladdin's little spiky-haired friend with the enchanted sword turned up, tongues have been wagging. So I decided to take a little 'world tour' for myself. As it turns out, there's an infinite number of worlds ripe for the conquering. My intent was to become overlord of them all."

"And this affects us how?" Ursula interrupted.

"You're giving us more reason to eliminate you as competition than to join forces with you," Maleficent pointed out.

"I'm not finished," Mozenrath growled.

Hades was still musing to himself about how, oddly enough, he was sure he'd seen this young man before. But where?

"As it turns out, taking the worlds into my own hand is…" Mozenrath searched a moment for the right word.

"Impossible?" Xerxes supplied.

"Difficult at best," Mozenrath concluded. "But then I heard about you. You want to call the worlds your own too. At first, the idea of a division of the spoils was less than appealing. But now, I'm willing to let you all have your fair share of the profit so long as I get to keep a few worlds of my own. In short, I would like to propose that we work together. I've mastered a few of the Dark Arts myself, you know. I think you'd find me a useful asset to your little team."

Maleficent thought it over. "Tell me…Mozenrath," she beckoned, "what have you done thus far that you believe puts you at our level?"

"Well, for one…" Mozenrath gestured toward Pete. "Your level seems to be this cat and above."

"HEY!" Pete snapped.

"And for another," Mozenrath went on, "it seems that at the tender age of eighteen, I've already dethroned the feared Lord Destane of the Black Sands, 'emptied out' his empire, resurrected an army of undead Mamluks to serve as my personal subjects, and – "

"Wait, that's it! That's IT!" Hades realized. "You…" As recognition washed over him, so did a distinct shade of red-orange. "YOU!" Flames flared up all over his skin.

Mozenrath turned in surprise to get an eyeful of the angry god. "Me?" he asked, trying to sound casual, though the sight of Hades in such an enraged state was truly frightening.

"YOU'RE the one that keeps robbing out of MY Underworld to build your army!" Hades roared. "For a YEAR now, some little PUNK has been stealing soul after soul from me, putting them back in the worlds of the living, and all I've EVER had to go on for identification was a picture drawn by one of the ones you sent back!"

"Sometimes they disappoint," Mozenrath sighed. "Some of them have to get sent back before they can ever be put to good use. Basically, if you trip and knock something over within your first hour, you don't make the cut."

"NOT the issue here!" Hades roared. "I have been stuck with this lousy Underworld gig since before you were bor – no, before your WORLD was born. But you know what the one thing I can't stand is? When someone MESSES WITH IT."

"I don't resurrect them in full," Mozenrath pointed out. "If it makes you feel better, I only deal in the undead. I could resurrect them in full, but then they start complaining about 'labor rights' and 'food' and 'basic physical needs.'"

"Oh. OH," Hades replied. "So you don't even go all the way. You just half-bake it. SOMEHOW THAT ANNOYS ME MORE!"

"This is most displeasing," Maleficent informed Mozenrath. "It seems you have been betraying us since before you brought your proposition to us."

"That's a bit of the pot calling the samovar black, isn't it?" Mozenrath told Maleficent. "After all, I seem to recall at least one of the people in this room having gone through a death or two." This was accompanied by a quick glance at Ursula, who gave a shrug. "And where's that bag of bugs you brought back to keep around? Are you just hiding the evidence on that one?"

"INSOLENT FOOL!" As Maleficent roared with anger, she raised both arms, and there was a flash of thunder that sent Pete right back to hiding behind Ursula. When Maleficent's staff came down, its base struck the castle floor, and two thick vines studded with black thorns erupted from the ground and wrapped around Mozenrath, digging their sharp points into his skin just enough to be painful without causing him fatal damage.

It was only now that Mozenrath realized he might have made a mistake or two in his approach. He struggled, only to flinch hard from the pain. Maleficent's magic was also blocking his own so long as the vines made contact with his body, and though he tried to fire up his gauntlet to burn the plants away from him, there was no result.

"It is not your place to question my methods," Maleficent informed Mozenrath. "And CERTAINLY not your place to call my own actions into question in order to justify your own! There is no alliance between us, nor shall there ever be!" Her angry countenance gave over to a smirk. "And yet…you may still be of use to us."

"We could turn him into a Heartless!" Ursula volunteered. "Then he'd be useful, all right!"

Panicking, Mozenrath snapped the fingers of his right hand again and again, but Maleficent's vines were holding their own magically.

"But if the boy is as powerful as he claims," Jafar pointed out, "not to mention as skilled with necromancy as Hades has confirmed, then we run the risk of him becoming a sentient Heartless…or worse! Leaving behind a sentient Nobody!"

"I got an idea," Hades proposed. "How about I take him back to my place, I figure out a Tartarus that will keep him in agony for all eternity, I stop getting robbed blind of my souls, and we all live happily ever after?"

"Perhaps putting him in your custody is the best course of action until such time as we can discern a proper way to put him to use," Maleficent decided.

"NO!" Mozenrath growled. "You…will…REGRET THIS…"

"Y'know what, kid?" Hades put a hand on Mozenrath's shoulder. "I really. Don't think. We will."

A Corridor of Darkness opened up around the two of them, and then they were gone, leaving only Maleficent, Pete, Ursula, Jafar, and Xerxes.

"Uh…what do we do with the weird flying eel thingy?" Pete asked.

Ursula gave a low chuckle. "I have a pair of eels of my own, you know," she told Xerxes. "And they would find you simply adorable! In fact, they'd eat you right up! …Literally."

With a cry of panic, Xerxes bolted from the room, speeding out a window. Maleficent sent a blast of green lightning after him, but the eel was just a hair too fast, and the energy collided harmlessly with the wall.

"Forget the eel," Maleficent resolved, telling herself as much as the others. "We have more urgent matters to attend to."

...

Hades' Corridor opened up in the lower levels of his shadowy palace in the Underworld. "Welcome to the Land of the Dead," the god introduced to his prisoner. "It ain't much, but really, it ain't much. It is, however, mine. You are WAY past due for playing by my rules, kid." He left Mozenrath bound in the center of the room as he crossed it to open a door with a barred window set in it. "Kind of a shame, actually. I usually don't roll out Tartarus punishments until they're, y'know, actually dead. But are you ever in for a treat! You see, Tartarus is where the worst of the worst get individual punishments tailored to – "

"I know what Tartarus is," Mozenrath seethed. "I'm not an idiot."

"Good," Hades told him as he swung the door wide, revealing a meager cell carved of stone beyond. "Save me the breath. Not that I need it, since, y'know, immortal. Anyway, welcome to your new home until I figure out juuuuuuuust what punishment is right for ya."

He returned to Mozenrath's side, grabbing the young sorcerer by the shoulder. He then threw Mozenrath forward so that he stumbled into the cell, lightly brushing the vines that bound him with a red-hot hand at the same time. The thorny vines burned up, temporarily freeing Mozenrath. By the time the sorcerer had whirled to fire off a spell at Hades, Hades slammed the door on him, and it locked.

Mozenrath's plasma bolt bounced off the door, then the back wall, then the side wall, and it kept bouncing for a good while of time. Mozenrath ducked and dodged nervously until the bolt ricocheted harmlessly out another barred window in the back of the cell. So it was magic-proofed. Mozenrath knew he shouldn't have expected less from the Lord of the Dead. He took a look around. The cell was somewhat rounded, with curved walls and ceiling, and one raised platform of solid stone, draped over with a black cloth, might have been a bench or a bed. The window out back overlooked the sickly green River Styx, which almost seemed to glow against the gloomy backdrop of the Underworld.

With a sigh, Mozenrath sat down on the hunk of stone and indulged in a good old-fashioned session of feeling sorry for himself. How was he to know that laying down his terms to Maleficent would land him here? Hadn't the others she worked with all done worse?

There had to be a way out of this cell, he surmised, but the answer wasn't coming to him. And furthermore, he was beginning to feel a sort of drain on his soul. They said the Underworld was cursed to slowly remove the magical powers of all who entered. Mozenrath was starting to feel it.

If only Hades had known. He turned his right hand over in his left, peeling the gauntlet off to look at the bare bone beneath. He was almost half dead already. Didn't that exempt him from crimes against the dead? More likely, if Hades knew, he would have seen it as an excuse to come up with a Tartarus punishment faster.

...

As Hades made his merry way down the hall, glad to have locked away the offending necromancer that had plagued him for the past year, he almost thought to hum a little tune. He hadn't felt this good in a while.

Which meant it was only a matter of time before Pain and Panic turned up with news that would spoil it for him.

"Hades!" Pain quickly rounded the corner to greet his master. "Your gruesomeness!"

"What is it," Hades sighed. "I was in a good mood, y'know."

"Uhhhhm…well…" Pain stumbled over his words. "See, I don't exactly have GOOD news…but it isn't BAD news either! It's just…kind of…annoying news?"

"Spit it out," Hades commanded.

"Lord HADES!" Panic came skittering around the corner. "Nice to see you! Sooooo, how was your trip to the – "

"WHAT HAPPENED?" Hades interrupted with a bright orange flare.

Panic gulped before turning to Pain. "I, uh…I see you didn't tell him that the…problem soul requested another meeting with him, did you?"

"Oy." Hades rubbed his temple, cooling back down to blue. "THAT guy, is it? All right. Where is he making a scene now – "

"Oh, he's in your throne room!" Pain said cheerily.

"WHAT?" Hades was now crimson. "WHO! LET HIM! GO UP THERE?"

"He just kind of…waltzed in!" Panic said shakily. "W-w-we tried to stop him – "

"OBVIOUSLY NOT HARD ENOUGH!"

"But he's already dead," Pain pointed out, "so a lot of times, when we turn into monsters, he just walks right past us and – "

"Okay, okay, okay." Hades took in a deep breath, and as he inhaled, the blue washed back over him. "I'm fine. I'm cool. I'm just going to go up there, tell him there was NO mistake, inform him he is SUPPOSED to be here, and make him leave ONCE. AND. FOR. ALL."

He stormed past his minions, who exchanged glances. "Gee," Pain muttered, "we got off lucky that ti – "

"Oh, and both of you are in for a roast when I get back," Hades called back over his shoulder.

The soul awaiting Hades in the throne room was not that of a patient man. He paced back and forth, his low-heeled leather shoes clicking ominously on the floor as he did so. His intricately embroidered red jacket billowed. It was rather funny, he thought, that the dead should get to keep some form of clothing when they arrived in the Underworld. What was not funny was that he'd ended up with a red top hat, of all things. Had his death been at all fair, he thought, he at least should have gotten to keep the white one. They always said you couldn't take it with you, but for some cruel reason, fate had decided he could take the wrong one with him.

He stopped by Hades' table, looking down at the chessboard pattern and tiny figurines that studded it. It was all intricate work, and he couldn't resist picking up a miniature carved chimaera to get a better look.

"Excuse me, but who said you could touch my things?" Hades asked from the door, already exasperated.

The soul set the manticore back down quickly. "Only a look, milord," he said innocently, his voice deep and thick with a British accent. "Quite well crafted, that is."

"Yeah, yeah, let's cut to the chase," Hades sighed. "You're here to tell me for the third time – "

"Fourth, milord."

"For the fourth time that you don't belong down here. Despite the fact that you are very obviously dead."

"In my defense, milord," the soul protested, "you haven't fully heard me out on it."

"Then go ahead," Hades groaned. "Explain. What don't I know here?" He crossed the room so he could lounge in the throne while he heard the soul's plaintive excuse.

Once Hades was seated, the soul cleared his throat. "You see, milord, death can only have come to claim me by accident. One moment, I was sitting in the Tasting Room of my dreams, about to dine on the finest cheese known to mortal man, and the next, I found myself down here, with absolutely nothing to indicate that any sort of death had occurred. I only figured that with so many souls coming into your domain on a daily basis for so many years, occasionally, there are mistakes made!"

"Death doesn't make mistakes," Hades sighed. "And by the way, I looked at your file after the second…or I guess make that the THIRD time you tried to talk to me about this, and it lists a pretty clear cause of death. Said it right there on the ol' papyrus-and-vellum. Name: Archibald Penelope Snatcher. Cause of death: Allergenic attack to dairy."

"Now, that's where the mistake's been made, you see," Snatcher elaborated. "For I'm not actually ALLERGIC to anything."

"File said you were. File's not wrong. Death doesn't make mistakes. Only thing that happens is that some people can't accept how they died. And you're dead. End of story. Now get out of my throne room."

"But milord – "

"NOW. Before I actually get mad at you."

Snatcher didn't leave. Instead, someone else came storming in, his footsteps heavy with anger. Snatcher and Hades both looked around to hear the commotion just outside the door.

"I'm sorry," Panic babbled, "Lord Hades is VERY busy right now – "

"DON'T care!" a new voice grunted.

"Hey, uh, you can't go in there!" Pain added.

"I do what I want!" the new voice snapped. "HEY! Will you GET OFF ME?"

Another soul burst into the throne room, with Pain and Panic each grabbing an ankle and trying to drag him back.

"Seriously?" Hades sighed. "THIS is how you try to stop them from getting into my room?"

The newcomer was tall and lanky – offsetting Snatcher's somewhat-tall-and-heavyset figure – with bright red-orange hair and heavy mascara and eyeliner. One assumed it was on both eyes, since his right eye was swept over by one red-orange bang. His jacket was white, his bowler hat black. He pointed at Hades with a gloved hand. "You."

"What about me?" Hades groaned.

"Send me back," the newcomer demanded.

"Hmmmm," Hades mused. "Let me think about that for a minute. NO."

"Send me back RIGHT. NOW," the soul reiterated. "I should NOT be here."

"Welcome to the club," Snatcher sighed.

"And why shouldn't you be here?" Hades asked.

"BECAUSE I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD!" the soul cried in exasperation. "Furthermore, I am not supposed to DIE! Do you know what the last thing I was saying was before I ended up down here? I was SAYING that I was going to do what I do best! Lie! Steal! Cheat! SURVIVE! And right after that, HERE I AM!" He spread out his arms to indicate the throne room and, by extension, the whole Underworld.

"Ooooh, death by irony!" Hades had himself a chuckle. "That always smarts, doesn't it? Doesn't get you any brownie points, though. Now get out of my palace."

"Not until you put me back," the soul insisted.

"What's your name again?" Hades asked.

"Torchwick," the soul sighed exasperatedly. "Roman Torchwick."

"Let's see. Torchwick…" Hades waved a hand in a circular pattern, and a scroll appeared in his hand. He unrolled it to take a look. "Name: Roman Torchwick. Cause of death: Eaten by a Nevermore that crashed into a ball of flame on a falling airship that exploded upon impact with the ground. Yeesh. Last words…'I'll do what I do best: lie, steal, cheat, and survive.' Yup. All right there in the file. That's some irony, all right. At least you one-upped Archie here on the last words front. All he said was something about the taste of cheese, and it was so cliché that I'm pretty sure he was just making it up to sound smart. Anyway. While I have enjoyed getting that good LAUGH out of your final words, if there's one death I'm NOT undoing, it's getting eaten, burned alive, and blown up in succession."

"Then you'll reconsider the alleged allergy attack, I take it?" Snatcher asked sweetly.

"NO!" Hades snapped, bright orange sweeping over his whole body. "ONE of you is bad enough! There is no reason I should have to deal with TWO people who can't understand that dead! Means! DEAD!"

"But I shouldn't BE dead!" Roman argued.

Simultaneously, Snatcher growled, "For the final time, there's been a MISTAKE!"

"THAT'S! IIIIIIIIIIT!" Hades stood bolt upright. "I HAVE HAD IT WITH YOU TWO! I GAVE YOU ENOUGH CHANCES TO LEAVE!"

"So what are you gonna do to us now?" Roman asked smugly.

...

The door to Mozenrath's cell opened briefly, and Mozenrath wondered if they'd come to collect him for his stay in Tartarus. Instead, two others got dumped on the floor, the door slammed behind them.

"And you can all STAY THERE until I find the perfect punishment for ALL THREE OF YOU!" Hades roared before storming away.

"Well." Roman was the first to get up, brushing himself off. "That could've gone better."

"I would've gotten my life back if you hadn't broken in and argued, you know," Snatcher grunted, slowly getting back on his own feet with support from the wall.

"D'you think that maybe he would've given me MINE back if you hadn't BOTHERED him half to death?" Roman argued.

"I see my punishment started early," Mozenrath sighed, leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes.

"So, what're you in for?" Roman asked him.

"Does it look like I want to talk to you?" Mozenrath snapped.

"Fine. I see how it is." Roman leaned against the opposite wall. "You don't want to talk to me. And YOU – " He pointed to Snatcher. "Don't GET to talk to me. So let's all do each other a favor and not talk at all."

"Oh, certainly," Snatcher replied, half sarcastically; he didn't much want to make conversation with these two either. He took his place against the back wall, leaning next to the window, and the three prisoners stayed put in silence, resolving to ignore each other as hard as they could.

Mozenrath caved after a mere sixty seconds. "Necromancy," he sighed. "I'm in for necromancy. I populated my entire empire with souls brought back from the dead, and as it turns out, Hades doesn't like it when people take the dead out of the Underworld without his permission. Well, when the WRONG people do, anyway. Apparently, if you're a dark faery who runs in the right circle, you can go right on ahead and take whatever and whoever you want."

"So you're not even dead," Roman reiterated.

"No," Mozenrath confirmed. "I'm not dead. Not in the traditional sense, anyway."

"So you're dead in the non-traditional sense, then?" Snatcher posed. "Is that your way of stating you've some existential crisis?"

"No." Mozenrath held up his right hand. "It's my way of saying I was trading my life force for my magic anyway."

"Magic," Snatcher snorted. "No such thing."

"You'd be surprised," Roman countered. "I thought that too, until my boss from Hell – and no, not literally, or else she'd be able to cut us a break – let me in on some of the secrets of life."

Mozenrath knew better than to try and fire another plasma bolt or anything else destructive in the cell. The Underworld's "curse" had also drained most of his power by that point anyway. However, he was able to conjure up a faint blue glow around his right hand, opening up his eyes so he could see the others' reactions.

Snatcher was absolutely stunned. "How're you doing that?"

"Magic," Roman answered for Mozenrath. "Though I thought you had to be a woman to do that. Which one are you? Summer? Winter?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Mozenrath called off the glow. "I'm a sorcerer of all seasons. This gauntlet is the source of my power. However, as I said, it requires a payment of life force in order to grant that magic."

"Did you say you were an emperor?" Snatcher asked. "Of sorts, at least?"  
"There's no 'of-sorts' about it," Mozenrath clarified. "I have an empire. Everyone and everything in the Black Sands is at my disposal."

"And I don't suppose anyone there is coming here to spring you," Roman posed. "None of those souls you saved from this place."

"I don't give them that much room to move," Mozenrath admitted. "This might be the first and only time I'll regret that." He shifted to better face his two companions. "So, now that you know why I'm here, why are you two here?"

"By complete and utter mistake," Snatcher grunted. "I was reportedly given a sentence of death when I did not, in fact, DIE."

"So, what, you just got teleported down here at random?" Roman asked.

"The last thing I remember before coming here," Snatcher reminisced, "was at long last achieving my dream of becoming one of the White Hats of Cheesebridge, with all the power I could want at my disposal, and enough status to ensure I'd be cheered and praised by the whole town!"

"Are you saying you took over this…kingdom of Cheesebridge?" Mozenrath asked for clarification.

"More or less," Snatcher confirmed. "The White Hats and their Cheese Guild oversee all that goes on in that town, from dawn till dusk and after. Course, most of them were absolute blowhards with no respect for the men who TRULY worked to keep the town in order, such as myself, and I took my fair share of insults from them, I did, but I digress. I'd concocted a brilliant plan to ensure myself the seat. The local Boxtrolls had always been hated and feared as monsters. All I had to do in order to obtain permission to capture them was to pin a crime upon them. A crime such as…the theft of a child. For ten years, I worked down to the bone capturing every last Boxtroll in order to get them to fashion me a machine that would allow me to be unstoppable. A sort of…large riding machine, tall as a building, from which one could cause the appropriate amount of destruction."

"Like a Paladin." Roman nodded. "Go on."

"Then, once the Boxtrolls had served their purpose, I was to make a show of crushing them and showing off the boxes of the dead to the head White Hat, Lord Portley-Rind, and in turn, he would be so grateful, he would make ME the next head White Hat," Snatcher went on. "However, the slippery little beasts fled at the last second. I was forced to simply use the machine and take Lord Portley-Rind's daughter hostage instead. Still got me the hat. And so I found myself at last in the Tasting Room, where the elite conducted their business while sampling only the finest and most elegant of cheese." His demeanor took a sudden downturn. "And this…Lord Hades has the NERVE to accuse me of being ALLERGIC TO CHEESE TO THE POINT OF DEATH! It's all been a cruel mistake!"

Mozenrath couldn't hold back a smile. "You know, I like the way you think," he told Snatcher. "Before I ended up down here, I was looking for someone to help me conquer not just any one kingdom, but all the worlds. Turns out I was looking in the wrong place. I could've used somebody as smart and ruthless as you."

"Well!" Snatcher straightened his coat, looking pleased as punch to receive such a compliment. "I thank you, milord!"

"I don't suppose you were much of a conqueror." Mozenrath made a lazy gesture in Roman's direction.

"Are you KIDDING ME?" Roman sputtered. "Where I come from, I had an entire kingdom running scared. I was working with the people who were going to change the world by force, though the less said about them, the better. No self-respecting Dust shop owner ever turned me down when I asked them to hand over the merchandise. I had an entire army of animalistic terrorists at my beck and call! I was in a warship, gunning down an enemy army! …So that my boss could take the spoils. But I still had fun with it, and that's what really counts in the end, right?"

"And how'd you end up in this cell?" Mozenrath pressed.

"You won't believe this," Snatcher laughed. "Heard all about it. This one got cocky in front of a giant monster and his last words were telling somebody how what he did best was lie, steal, cheat, and…"

He glanced over at Roman to be met with a sullen glare.

"…Survive," Snatcher concluded weakly. "It's…not all that amusing, now that I think of it."

"I wasn't supposed to die," Roman elaborated. "Ever. Though while I'm here, I will say that working for either of you sounds like a lot better of a gig than what I had."

"Could've used more men like you," Snatcher replied, "and less like the softhearted idiots I'd got saddled with. Needed to be convinced they were 'ridding the streets of evil' to get them motivated to do anything."

"Yeesh." Roman flinched.

"Hm." Mozenrath was thinking things over. "You know…I just may have a proposition for you."

"And what's that?" Snatcher asked.

"Eventually, this door has to open to lead us out of here and into Tartarus," Mozenrath reminded his cellmates. "At that point, I'm planning on making a great escape and picking up where I left off. The more I listen to you, the more I'm surprisingly not annoyed by everything you say, and the more I realize you're exactly the kind of men I'm looking for. However, I don't want to waste my time on people who are all talk. So here's my idea: you two help me escape this place…and you can come work for me. After all, I can get you two back to the realm of the living pretty easily."

"And who says we want to work for you instead of going back to where we were?" Roman asked. "We had it pretty sweet."

"Really?" Mozenrath countered. "Because all I heard was that one of you was working for a boss you hated, and the other was just about to join a government that never did anything but look down on him."

Snatcher and Roman simultaneously thought to themselves that Mozenrath had a point.

"Put a weapon in my hand," Roman said at last, "and I'll do what you need."

"We're going to Tartarus," Mozenrath reminded them. "The land of extreme punishments tailored to torture the worst of the worst. There will be resources we can work with."

"The big problem will be getting past Lord Crankypants," Roman brought up. "The minute one of us puts a toe out of line, he's gonna know."

"Not unless he's good and distracted," Snatcher offered. "Which I just so happen to know how to do."

"What, annoy him to death like you did the first time?" Roman asked.

"As a matter of fact, no," Snatcher clarified. "I'll need some sort of paint – actual rouge would be best – something that can act as hair, and…" His eyes fell upon the cloth that was draped over Mozenrath's stone bench. "That."

"You want it?" Mozenrath got up off the bench, balled up the cloth, and handed it over. "You can have it."

Snatcher took off his coat, tied the cloth around his chest, then shrugged his jacket back on to be able to carry it hands-free. "I'm hoping we'll find the rest of what we're looking for in this Tartarus," he grunted.

"And what, exactly, is your plan?" Mozenrath asked.

Snatcher began to spell it out, interrupted at one point by an enthusiastic "NO WAY!" from Roman.

...

The cell door swung open to reveal Hades' tall figure filling the frame; a host of Trick Ghost Heartless some thirty strong floated behind him. "Okay, so the bad news is that I'm too busy to take you to your punishments," Hades told the trio of prisoners, "so these guys are gonna have to do it for you. The good news is that I've picked out the PERFECT fate for each of you! Red Hat McAllergies is going to get to ride the classic wheel of fire, Ixion style; Mr. Death-by-Irony is going to get to drown for eternity at the bottom of an ocean filled with nasties; and as for Necromancy Pants, well, let's just say it involves a lot of spikes. A LOT of spikes. Oh, wait, that's BAD news for you, isn't it? That's only good news for me! Well, tough luck, babes. I'm off to finish up some paperwork and pretend you don't exist. Toodles!"

He vanished in a rush of flame, proving that he didn't need a Corridor of Darkness after all, though whether it was a matter of distance or of showing off to his colleagues, the three prisoners couldn't be sure.

The Trick Ghosts flooded into the cell, applying thick chains to the wrists of the prisoners – Mozenrath's left wrist to Snatcher's right and Snatcher's left to Roman's right. They then ushered the trio out of the holding cell by bumping into them until they went where the Ghosts wanted them to go. This was how they directed them all the way down the dark path to the caverns that housed Tartarus.

"You know," Roman whispered to Snatcher, "I didn't notice this earlier, but you have nice hands."

"What's that got to do with anything?" Snatcher hissed.

"It's a long walk and I'm making conversation!" Roman hissed back.

After what seemed an eternity, the Trick Ghosts herded them into a pitch black chamber. First, two lanterns, blue lights situated on poles, illuminated the three prisoners and most of the Ghosts. Roman took special note that the lanterns weren't bolted to the ground. Then an enormous cartwheel, intricately spoked, burst into flame in front of them. Chains at its center showed where Snatcher was apparently to be situated.

The Ghosts made a show of bumping into the prisoner trio before Roman halted them with an "All right, all right! We get it! We're going!" The triad walked up to the great flaming wheel.

"This had better work," Roman muttered to himself before flinging his right hand upward, taking Snatcher's with it. He caught the chain binding them on the edge of one of the wheel's spokes, bringing the metal down hard through the heat until the chain snapped. Roman then did an about-face and charged for the lanterns.

"He realizes they were about to unchain me from both of you to attach me to the wheel, doesn't he?" Snatcher pointed out in awe.

"Just let him do his thing," Mozenrath advised, reaching up to snap his own chain in the same way.

Roman body slammed a thick group of the ghosts, scattering them before he hit the ground and rolled. He came to a halt next to one of the lanterns, at which point he stood, grasped the lantern pole, and spun it around once for show. The Ghosts converged upon him, not concerned with Snatcher or Mozenrath, which was exactly what Roman had hoped for. He rammed the business end of the lantern hard into one of the ghosts, and it dissipated into a wisp of Darkness. Spinning back, Roman impaled another Trick Ghost on the other end of the lantern, causing it too to disappear. Snatcher and Mozenrath watched in awe as Roman strategically took out each Ghost – sometimes two or three at a time – with only the lantern. At one point, three of the ghosts managed to grab the lantern and snap it in half, wrenching it away from Roman; Roman countered by grabbing the second lantern and using it to sweep them all into the wall.

At last, there were no more Trick Ghosts left. Roman wiped his brow, then removed his jacket to show off a black tank and arms glistening with sweat underneath. "I am VERY hot right now," he remarked. "Not to mention that between all that fighting I just did and the fire in the middle of the room, the temperature is pretty high."

Snatcher made no comment, though he was certainly thinking a few things.

"Amusing," Mozenrath groaned. "Now we need to get to work."

They exited the chamber of the flaming wheel, searching the adjacent shadowy caverns. Weapons were easy enough to come by; the poor man whose fate was to be prodded by spears forever was somewhat grateful that the mysterious trio had removed three of the weapons from his torture queue in order to wield them for themselves. Another particularly gruesome form of torture best not described obtained the group a sewing needle. One room contained a very angry chimaera with a shimmering golden mane; it soon found one chunk of its mane severed off before the trio disappeared into the next cavern. And thankfully, one of the prisoners of Tartarus happened to be a man so insecure in his masculinity that his "punishment" was to be repeatedly dressed in chiffon and painted with makeup; units of rouge, lipstick, and eyeshadow were immediately confiscated.

"You really can find ANYTHING down here, can't you?" Roman asked as he and Mozenrath stood outside the door of the flaming wheel cavern from which they'd originated. "Almost wonder if we'd be better off doing an extended supply run down here."

"As fun as it's been," Mozenrath pointed out, "sooner or later, we'd get caught, and they'd send something a little stronger than Emblem Heartless after us."

"Stand aside, boys." The voice that commanded this was high and lilting, touched with an accent that seemed to encompass most of Europe. One almost couldn't believe that this voice was coming from Archibald Snatcher. When he emerged into view, he was sporting a makeshift gown thrown together from the cloth from the holding cell. His face was elaborately painted, and his thinning dark hair hidden by a makeshift wig of thick golden locks obtained from the chimaera. "I've a Lord of the Dead to charm," he continued, giving a sly smirk.

Roman and Mozenrath stared in awe before Roman gave a low whistle of approval.

"Once you've made your getaway," Snatcher told his associates, "send me some sort of signal, and I shall come running."

"Actually, I've been thinking on it," Mozenrath ruminated, "and if everything works out…I think you'll know exactly when we leave."

...

Hades had a long scroll unrolled in his throne room, and he was poring over its fine print when he heard yet another ruckus coming up his stairway.

"Hades can't see you right now! He's busy!"

"You're not supposed to do that!"

"Eh…?" Hades looked up from the scroll, eyes on the door. "Pain. Panic. Maybe next time, you might wanna, I dunno, TURN INTO A MONSTER OR – "

When Snatcher gracefully stalked into the room, Hades forgot his sentence. "Or. Or. Or-or-or hhhhhhow can I help you today?" He shook his head. "Gah. You succubi almost get me every time, you know that?"

Succubus. Snatcher hadn't been expecting to be handed an identity right away. He went with it. "Oh, you know how we succubi are," he replied in a seductive coo. "I trust you know what I've come for?"

Hades sighed. "You want another pay raise, don't you? Listen, babe, it's in the works for your entire division. But the harpies have first dibs, get it?"

"Oh, but certainly…" Snatcher strode closer to Hades, putting out a hand, reaching up toward the god's face. "We can come to some sort of…agreement."

"I, uh, I…" Hades sputtered as he let Snatcher's long, graceful fingers stroke down his cheek and across his jaw line. A sound that might have been the growl of a chimaera sounded in the distance, but Hades ignored it. "Could you maybe…back off a bit?"

"Oh, dear, I do apologize, milord." Snatcher stepped back. "Sometimes I forget my boundaries." He did his best to look demure and apologetic.

"Hey, it comes with the territory of being a succubus," Hades said with a shrug.

It was at that moment that the diversion paid off. Had Hades been looking anywhere else but fixatedly upon Snatcher, he would have had his attention drawn to the enormous flaming wheel rolling past his window.

"Hang on," Hades said. "You just called me 'milord.'"  
Snatcher froze, gulping audibly.

"You know, NONE of my employees EVER call me by the honorific anymore?" Hades went on. "Nice to hear for once. Refreshing. Though seriously, babe, you can call me 'Lord Hades.' Use the name."

"I will be certain to." The sultry, aggressive tone was back in Snatcher's feminine voice.

There was a sudden sound of an enormous CRASH.

"What was that?" Hades wondered out loud.

"Probably nothing, Lord Hades," Snatcher covered quickly.

The next sounds that Hades heard were screams. Specifically the screams of Pain and Panic. He couldn't make out their words, but at least one of those words was "FIRE!"

"That does NOT sound like nothing," Hades muttered as he stormed down to the courtyard of his palace.

Chains were another thing easily found in Tartarus. It had been Mozenrath's idea to chain the chimaera up to the wheel of flame. It had been Roman's idea to ride the chimaera. Hades rushed out to the courtyard to see the chimaera bounding around, dragging the wheel of fire behind it, setting anything that wasn't a rock aflame (Pain and Panic included). Mozenrath sat right up front behind the chimaera's neck, holding onto its mane for a grip. Roman sat directly behind him, and the moment he saw that Hades could see them, he let out a loud whoop.

"WHAT THE – " Hades stared in shock. Then he whipped around to face Snatcher: "WERE YOU TRYING TO DISTRACT ME FROM THI – "

Snatcher was already gone.

The chimaera was on a direct course for a tunnel up and out of the Underworld. Mozenrath tugged its mane to slow it just enough that Snatcher could catch up. Roman leaned over the side, offering a hand. Snatcher caught hold, and Roman tried and failed to haul him onboard the chimaera – Mozenrath had to grab hold of Snatcher's other hand in order to get him atop the beast, settled in behind Roman. The chimaera sped up, making a beeline out.

Hades looked back to see all the walls that the chimaera and the flame wheel had blown through, leaving damage it would take weeks to repair. He flared up immediately.

"Meltdown in three," Roman counted down. "Two…"

"GAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" Hades' scream sounded from behind them.

"Aaaaaand there it is," Roman remarked with a smirk.

Hades gave a whistle. The massive jet-black and three-headed hellhound Cerberus bounded into view. "GET THEM!" Hades yelled, pointing after the runaway chimaera.

"Not to alarm you," Snatcher called up to Mozenrath, "but Lord Hades is releasing the hounds on us!"

"Then release the chains," Mozenrath said in a tone that sounded calm. In fact, he was having one of the most fun times of his life.

Roman and Snatcher quickly undid the hasty knot that bound the chains to the chimaera, and the firey wheel of punishment went rolling right backward. None looked back to see what happened when it impacted Cerberus, but they did hear three distinct doggy howls of pain.

Trick Ghosts swarmed up and around the chimaera as it made its way into the last leg of the tunnel; a light was ahead. Roman had been hanging onto Snatcher's extra spear (as well as his clothes), and gave the weapon back. Mozenrath took up his own spear. The trio hacked and stabbed at the Trick Ghosts until no more came to hinder their progress.

The moment the chimaera burst into the light of the realm of the living, Mozenrath felt his aura charge up with magic, almost as if the sun itself was powering him. "First things first…" He waved his hand in a circular motion in the air.

Roman and Snatcher felt the sudden rush of gaining corporeal forms: an absolutely indescribable feeling that they could never compare to anything else in their lives (or afterlives).

"He can't get mad at me for half-baking this one," Mozenrath chuckled to himself. "Well, it looks like you two are hired. For our second order of business, I'm taking you on a tour of the office."

He opened up a Corridor of Darkness on the chimaera's back, behind Snatcher. "Ladies first," he teased.

Snatcher stood, somewhat wobbly, before stepping right through the portal. Roman followed not long after. Mozenrath was the final to leave, almost slipping right off the bounding monster and quite glad no one was around to see him do it.

As the portal closed, the chimaera sped off to attack an unsuspecting Greek village. The incident would require the assistance of Hercules and a rather large cleanup crew before the day was done.

...

Mozenrath's Corridor opened beneath the black skies of the Land of the Black Sands, depositing first Snatcher, then Roman, then Mozenrath himself in the middle of a town square. Ghostly mists flowed throughout the mostly abandoned city.

"Welcome to the Land of the Black Sands," Mozenrath introduced, stepping out and extending his right hand dramatically to point to it all. "To the west, you'll see the Citadel. All around, you'll see an empire that is one hundred percent mine. And up above, you'll see the crystal…"

He trailed off. One of the great blue crystals he'd installed on poles strategically placed throughout the kingdom, the one that monitored this square, was glowing brightly against the jet black night.

"Is it supposed to be doing that?" Roman asked.

"I set those crystals up to detect magic," Mozenrath explained. "Now, it could just be activating because I'm here, or…"

He gave the immediate area a sweep. Every single crystal was lit up.

"Something's wrong," Mozenrath announced.

"Wrong how?" Snatcher asked.

"Wrong as in we've been invaded," Mozenrath clarified.

Fortuitously, Xerxes came speeding around the corner. "MOZENRATH!" he blurted before flinching; he had been keeping quiet for a reason.

"Xerxes," Mozenrath demanded. "What's going on here?"

"Maleficent come looking for Mozenrath," Xerxes hissed. "Maleficent remember Mozenrath say he from Black Sand. Jafar remember Mozenrath say he from this world. Mamluks all taken by Maleficent. Heartless all around waiting for you!"

Mozenrath's head snapped right up so he was staring up at the elevated hill where his Citadel was situated. For the first time, he saw it: a pair of Guard Armor Heartless standing at the gates. Other Heartless of the Armor variety were patrolling the Citadel perimeter.

"What are those things?" Snatcher hissed. "Machines?"

"Weird colored Grimm?" Roman guessed.

"Heartless," Mozenrath explained. "They're like the Ghosts that attacked us in the Underworld. There's a long and complicated explanation, but all you need to know is that they're magical creatures made of pure Darkness, and they don't like you."

The sound of large metal feet clanking along the street gave Mozenrath pause. Then he darted toward the door of the nearest empty house, beckoning Xerxes, Roman and Snatcher after him. The eel, the crime boss, and the exterminator all hurried through the door to get to the safety of the walls. They peered out the window to see a Guard Armor clank its way through the town square, making a quick survey before moving on.

"She took my kingdom," Mozenrath seethed, clenching his fist; a blue glow was surrounding it.

"Well, obviously this place isn't safe anymore," Roman whispered. "Got any backup plans?"

"She took my KINGDOM," Mozenrath repeated. "I'm going to take it back from her."

"Mozenrath, no!" Xerxes hissed.

"Is this 'Maleficent' who you were speaking to before you were thrown into a holding cell in the Underworld?" Snatcher asked.

"Yes…" Mozenrath answered.

"Right," Snatcher replied. "Then by all means, let's definitely take three meager spears and go to face her directly while she's got this many giant magical creatures overrunning your kingdom. That can't backfire in any way, now, can it?"

"I don't need your sarcasm," Mozenrath sighed.

"But you do need a backup plan," Roman insisted.

Mozenrath hated to admit that his new cohorts were right. Maleficent had him outgunned. And as much as his instincts said to fight, logically, if he wanted to survive, he had to run. "I have a backup plan," he muttered. "I scoped out a few worlds before approaching Maleficent. And it just so happens that there is one small kingdom that's already under my control. It's nowhere near as impressive as this one, but it will make a decent base until we can get on track." He gritted his teeth.

"Then," Snatcher suggested, watching another Guard Armor clank into the square, "I suggest we make haste elsewhere."

As Mozenrath opened up another Corridor, realization hit Snatcher. "Hold on. Did you say this place was on another WORLD?"

"Just GO, Archie," Roman hissed.

"Don't call me that" were Snatcher's last words before he entered the portal. Roman followed him, then Mozenrath, and finally Xerxes.

As the portal closed, the Guard Armor's head inclined slightly toward the house, but it decided there was nothing there and moved on ahead.

...

Mozenrath, Snatcher, Roman, and Xerxes reappeared on another world entirely. They were underground, with an enormous cavernous roof overhead. Then again, to say the cavern was enormous didn't truly do it justice. The trio plus eel stood on a white balcony in a subterranean metropolis that stretched out almost as far as the eye could see. Beyond it, on the horizon, other environments were visible, in striking colors: magma red, deep midnight blue, snowy white – and all underground.

"Welcome to Mt. Ebott," Mozenrath said, stepping back and gesturing with his gauntlet to introduce his second kingdom that day. "It's no Black Sands, but it is all mine. Right now, we're in New Home: the capital and cultural center. Below us is CORE, which has all the technology you could ever want. And if you can't find it in CORE, there will be a laboratory that has it in the Hotlands."

"Good," Roman sighed. "Because I have a very particular weapon that I need recreated."

"Beyond that are the lands of Waterfall and Snowdin," Mozenrath went on to explain. "Grand, open spaces for us to do whatever we want."

"Open…" Snatcher's eyes were on the streets below. "I'll bet."

"Is something wrong?" Mozenrath raised a brow at Snatcher.

"Oh, no, nothing." Snatcher gave a wave of the hand as though to dismiss the idea that anything was wrong. "By the way, where are your subjects?"

Mozenrath didn't answer.

"Your subjects," Snatcher clarified. "The people in this kingdom over whom you rule." His smirk was a metaphorical mile wide.

"Well…" Mozenrath scratched at the back of his head. "This world is a…special case. This kingdom was once a prison for a large part of the population on the surface. A magical barrier kept various monsters down here, and they made a home for themselves. Then, when the barrier was broken, they all left for the surface world…not knowing they were leaving their old kingdom right for the taking." He slapped on a smirk.

"So you just took a ditched kingdom nobody else wanted," Roman reiterated.

"No," Mozenrath tried to deny.

"You didn't CONQUER anything!" Roman went on. "You just walked into an EMPTY CITY and put up a flag!"

"Not even a flag," Snatcher said disparagingly with a click of the tongue.

"I TOOK WHAT I COULD GET," Mozenrath emphasized. "Stay with me, and we'll take bigger and better than this. We WILL get kingdoms with ACTUAL SUBJECTS. For now, you wanted a safe place to hide, and this is it. This is where you're going to get better weapons and better clothes. The locals had magic food that doesn't spoil, too, so you get food AND shelter. I don't see why you're COMPLAINING."

Snatcher sighed, rolling his eyes. "Quite right," he admitted. "It's better than being pursued by those enormous…THINGS back in the Black Sands. And a good deal better than being dead. Especially when we weren't supposed to be dead in the first place."

"I'll drink to that," Roman agreed. "Is there anywhere to get a drink around here?"

"There have to be a hundred bars in New Home alone," Mozenrath told him proudly.

"Then I'll stop complaining," Roman resolved.

"Just wait." Mozenrath strode to the edge of the balcony, overlooking the city and all the empty lands beyond. "Soon…we will have so much more." He felt more confident in that fact than ever.


	2. Zim Zabberim Zim

1\. Zim Zabberim Zim

The first order of business Roman Torchwick set to once settled in his new base of operations was to recreate his weapon. As Mozenrath had promised, between the CORE and Hotland regions, he was able to not only find scrap metal aplenty, but the equipment to weld it together, paint it, and add such essentials as a scope. Most self-respecting warriors who hailed from Vale were adept at crafting weaponry, and Roman was no exception. At last, he cooled off the finished product. The original Melodic Cudgel had gone down in flames with the Nevermore that had eaten him. The Melodic Cudgel 2.0 was identical to the original: a gun that posed as a simple cane, capable of firing heavy blasts of Dust from one end and featuring a grappling hook on a retractable cable at the other. All it needed was a chamberful of Dust and it would be ready for action.

That being done, Roman realized that as the closest thing this small faction had to a weapons technician, he had one more responsibility. Mozenrath had asserted that he could more than defend himself with his gauntlet and its magical energy. That left one factor accounted for.

...

"It's kind of like a kusarigama," Roman explained, gesturing to the new weapon he'd forged laid out on the table of the abandoned Hotland laboratory. "Except instead of a sickle on one end of the chain, you've got a fully functioning pistol. You said you were good with those old-timey guns, right? Of course, like mine, its Dust chamber is still empty, but hopefully we can fix that soon. Now, on the other end, instead of a ball, you have a hammer. You can still throw it like a ball weight and wrap the chain around whoever, or you can just whack 'em over the head, like you said you almost did to that one Omelette kid with a wrench. And, of course, you can always just use the chain to strangle somebody. So? Whaddaya think?"

Snatcher noted that Roman seemed awfully proud of himself for coming up with this new weapon. He reached out, taking up the pistol – shaped like an old flintlock - in one hand and the mallet in the other, twirling the chain slightly as he did so. The metal was still warm from the forge. "It will do," Snatcher judged. "Soon as it's filled with working ammunition. Seems well crafted."

Roman gave a playful bow to this. "In the meantime, keep it here." He handed over a leather belt fashioned with a gun holster on one side and a scabbard of sorts for the mallet on the other.

Snatcher fastened on the belt, sheathing his new weapon. "You've been busy."

"Haven't you? What have you and Righty been doing this whole time, anyway?"

"Poring over papers," Snatcher sighed. "Lord Mozenrath insists our conquest hinges on the proper strategy. This, coming from the man who wished to charge Maleficent and her enormous horde with three spears. As it is, he's been looking over documentation he has compiled from various worlds in order to get an idea of what resources we might need."

"Is Dust on that list?" Roman asked eagerly.

Snatcher shrugged. "I've no clue. Stopped listening to him partway through. He didn't even notice. Though he wanted to see you once you'd finished down here."

"All right." Roman twirled the Cudgel 2.0 into his hand. "Let's hear what he's got for us."

...

Roman hadn't really grasped the scope when Snatcher had said Mozenrath was browsing documentation. In fact, Mozenrath had taken the throne room of New Home (which was oddly carpeted in golden flowers) and pinned up hundreds, maybe thousands of papers on its walls, spreading out even more on the floor where there weren't flowers sprouting up.

"Did you just lose your MIND up here?" Roman asked as he and Snatcher entered the room to see Mozenrath switching around several papers to rest adjacently to each other on the wall as Xerxes hovered.

"Oh, good. You're here," Mozenrath greeted pleasantly, ignoring Roman's slight as he turned to face his associates. "I thought we could go over some potential plans of action."

"Plan 1," Roman suggested. "We drop back by Vale and get enough Dust to fill up our weapons."

"Not what I had on the agenda," Mozenrath replied, "but I suppose that would be the most practical first step. You have a way of safely getting Dust without alerting any undesirables?"

"I have a stash," Roman confirmed. "Give me fifteen minutes there and I can get a crate out without anybody noticing. Anyway, Archie told me – "

"I thought I told you not to call me that," Snatcher muttered.

" – that you'd been busy," Roman went on. "Didn't quite realize that meant 'cuckoo.' Have you done anything besides put up wallpaper?"

Mozenrath scowled. "Every one of these documents is research I've compiled from the worlds I've seen. And compared to the number of worlds that are out there, it's not much. What I've been looking for is anything that would give us an advantage. Profiles of dead warriors we could resurrect to bolster our forces. Magical artifacts that would increase our power. Or both at the same time." He unhooked one page from the wall. "Like the Heylin Puzzle Box. Rumor has it that it contains a fairly powerful witch. Maybe we could persuade her to work with us." He replaced the paper. "Then there's a whole vault of magical artifacts that – "

"Righty," Roman interrupted. "Did we come here to help you read an entire library, or did we come here to help you take over the worlds? How about we stop pushing paperwork and actually do something?"

"Says the man who spent absolutely no time on paperwork and spent hours crafting a weapon instead," Mozenrath reminded Roman.

"Er…about that…" Snatcher broke in. "I'd been feeling a slight bit as though our potential is being underutilized myself. Surely there's something that the three of us can accomplish that doesn't involve standing around here."

"There is." Mozenrath took down one of the papers. "Breaking into and securing the Vault of the H – "

"Before you go any further," Roman interrupted, "is that vault another abandoned territory nobody wanted?"

Mozenrath steamed in silence for a while before pinning the paper back to the wall. "Well…" He shrugged. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I may know of a kingdom just waiting to be usurped. Think of it as one of the crown jewels of the worlds, if you will. And Maleficent hasn't even begun to make a move on it."

"Because it's dangerous," Snatcher hypothesized.

"Because it's too easy," Mozenrath replied. He unhooked another paper. "Not too long ago, a child took it over just by pulling an enchanted sword out of a rock. If we had that sword for ourselves and ran it through that kid's heart, we'd be just as much the kings of their England, wouldn't we?"

"Are you saying we can go?" Roman practically begged.

Mozenrath nodded. "We can go."

"FINALLY!" Roman whooped, looking to Snatcher, who also appeared quite pleased with the proposition. Then he turned his attention back to Mozenrath: "But first, about that Dust stash."

...

The noontime sun rose high in the clear blue sky over the rolling green English countryside where a young boy named Arthur – or "Wart," as some would have it – had so recently been crowned sovereign by removing the legendary sword from the stone. It had been a year since then, and while Arthur had been a bit shaky at first when provided with such responsibility as all of England, he was shaping up to be a fine king indeed despite his youth.

Archibald Snatcher was still reeling from the knowledge that there were multiple worlds at all beyond the one he'd hailed from and the afterlife. It only made the matter more complex that many of these worlds had locations that bore the same name and roughly the same features. He himself had come from an England, though it seemed that no town calling itself Cheesebridge existed in this particular England, and the capital city here seemed far, far more primitive than the one he'd known back home. He consistently wondered how Mozenrath and Roman had taken all this information in so calmly. Especially Roman, who he understood had seen as many worlds as Snatcher himself had before they met Mozenrath. However, there eventually came a time where all confusion and wonderment had to be dropped so that a job could be focused on.

They'd made a very quick stop to Roman's homeworld, in the kingdom of Vale, and only caught a glimpse of a back alley while Roman fetched a crate of Dust from a warehouse. He'd pocketed several red crystals and vials of red powder for himself, giving Snatcher several other colors of the substance to experiment with, promising a lesson later and telling him just to use the yellow stuff for now. Obliging, Snatcher had loaded his pistol up with bright citrine powder. The crate was stowed away in New Home before the entire contingent moved on to this England.

Snatcher was in the lead of the trio, and Mozenrath and Roman followed him through the winding streets of the stone city that surrounded the castle: an impressive stone bastion. Its gate was guarded by a pair of brightly clad knights in armor that glittered beneath the shining sun.

"Halt!" one cried out, as Snatcher expected at least one of them would. He obliged, and Roman and Mozenrath stopped short behind him. Xerxes, slow on the uptake, crashed into the back of Mozenrath's head.

"State your business with the king!" the other knight demanded.

"Our business," Snatcher replied, "is one of extreme importance. We come from a faraway land to the East, bearing terrible tidings. Word has reached us of a nation that means to declare war on England, and we wish to warn His Majesty Arthur and forge an alliance with him to nip this nasty talk of invasion in the bud."

"And who, exactly, are 'we'?" the first knight asked.

"Lord Mozenrath of the Black Sands," Snatcher announced. "Accompanied by his spokesperson – that would be myself – and his footman."

Mozenrath bowed politely. "I hope you don't mind that I let my spokesman do most of the talking."

"Not at all," the second knight said. "We shall escort you to His Majesty immediately."

The pair of knights led the trio and their eel through the front courtyard and up a walkway to the castle doors proper. Roman could hardly believe it. He was used to bullying his way into wherever he wanted; this was the first time he could think of in quite a while that he'd simply been let into a place because he or someone accompanying him had politely asked.

The throne room of the castle was clothed in colorful banners and tiled with polished stone, making it a welcoming sight to all who entered. The throne itself was surrounded by pages and knights of all shapes and sizes. And upon that throne sat Arthur, the boy king. Blonde and lanky, he would have cut a rather impressive figure in his royal robes with the sword from the stone sheathed at his hip if not for the fact that his golden crown was slightly lopsided upon his head due to not quite fitting properly; it had been crafted for much larger heads.

"His Majesty, King Arthur!" one of the knights announced. "Presenting Lord Mozenrath of the Black Sands!"

"The Black Sands?" When Arthur spoke, his voice cracked, and it was all Mozenrath could do not to burst into laughter. And people said he was young for all he had done! He made sure to keep his eye on the prize: the sword was within view. "I've never heard of that country," Arthur specified.

"It is far, FAR to the east, your majesty," Snatcher clarified. For all he knew, it wasn't a lie. Mozenrath's homeworld might have been east of this one, depending on how the cardinal directions stacked up on the grander scheme of the cosmos.

"Well," Arthur began, "how can I help you?" He asked innocently, ready to provide any assistance needed, and Mozenrath could tell how much naïveté he carried.

"Grave tidings, Your Majesty," Snatcher reiterated. "We bring news of a declaration of war upon this kingdom."

"War?" Arthur was taken aback. "Who's declaring war on us?"

Roman lifted the Cudgel. Snatcher removed his weapon from its belt. Mozenrath pointed his right fist at Arthur himself.

"We are," Mozenrath announced.

A burst of red emanated from Roman's Cudgel, knocking over a line of knights like bowling pins. Snatcher's pistol fired bright yellow lightning, sending the pages scattering for cover. From Mozenrath's fist, a ray of electric blue surged forth. Arthur quickly stumbled up from the throne and hit the ground so that the magic passed harmlessly over him. The boy drew his sword, terrified but fully aware of the fact that he had to defend his court. As he stood, he leapt out of the way of another burst of blue before charging Mozenrath, swinging the sword sharply through the air.

Several knights rushed Roman, who was more than prepared for them. He parried a blow from a sword, sidestepped another, then blasted one of the men into unconsciousness. Then it was on to the next. As he knocked the third knight away, he became aware of a presence behind him; one of the knights had gotten behind him and was raising a sword high above Roman's head, ready to cleave him in two.

This unfortunate knight then suffered a blow to the head from Snatcher's mallet, dazing him. After kicking that knight to the ground, Snatcher threw the mallet so that it wrapped the chain around another potential defender, yanking the chain to draw the knight close before loosing a burst of lightning from the pistol in the knight's face, jolting him out cold.

...

The booms and blasts of Dust could be heard throughout the entire kingdom. Most cowered in their homes. Some wondered if it was a planned celebratory event put on by Arthur himself. But one, situated on the very edge of the kingdom, was delighted to hear the noise. Because it was the noise of chaos and destruction, and where there was chaos and destruction, there was much fun to be had.

...

Mozenrath let Arthur get up close to him before dissipating suddenly into blue light, letting Arthur's blade swipe through nothingness. He reappeared behind Arthur, right hand glowing blue, ready to slam it into the boy king's body. As he plunged his hand downward at Arthur's neck, he suddenly felt as though his fingers had been slammed into an invisible wall; magic sparked where he'd been deflected. Was the boy king a magician as well, or was someone else in the court protecting him?

Mozenrath got his answer when a gruff "OH NO, YOU DON'T!" sounded off from behind him. The sorcerer turned to see an old man dressed in plain robes of blue, with a conical blue hat and a trailing white beard, glaring him down with intense anger. "You think you can just barge in here and lay hands on my apprentice, do you?" the old man continued. "Well, not on my watch!"

"And who are you to stop me?" Mozenrath challenged.

"That's Merlin!" Arthur supplied.

"Worry not, my boy," Merlin said protectively. "I'm going to teach this upstart a lesson!"

"I AM NOT AN UPSTART!" Mozenrath loosed a plasma bolt directly at Merlin before teleporting to the other side of the room before Arthur could try anything else with the sword.

Merlin defty caught the bolt as though it were a ball for a game. He tossed it up and down casually before turning to lob it right back at Mozenrath. Mozenrath, unprepared for this, caught the full blast of his own magic in his chest, hitting the back of the wall hard.

Meanwhile, Roman and Snatcher were doing their best to hold off the knights, but the more they knocked out, the more seemed to come in their wake. They were quickly being outnumbered.

As Mozenrath struggled to regain his balance, he focused on Merlin only to have his attention drawn to just behind the wizard. Merlin didn't see that a pair of eyes had materialized from seemingly thin air behind him. Those eyes were soon framed by a smirking face, then a purple-haired head set atop a short, plump female body clothed in maroon and lavender.

"I've had about enough of you!" Merlin drew back his arms to cast another spell at Mozenrath. Just then, the woman behind him tapped him on the shoulder. "Not now, Wart!" Merlin snapped.

"Try again, Merlin," the woman laughed.

Merlin flinched, startled. His spell was interrupted long enough for Mozenrath to launch a cloud of smaller pellets of magic, as though fired from a gatling gun, at the elderly wizard. At the same time, the woman transformed into a bright pink horse, rearing back on her hind legs and bringing her forelegs down hard on Merlin. The wizard was pinned to the ground by the woman's hooves, and Mozenrath's magic pelted him, stinging all over. The woman was by now having herself quite a cackle of mirth.

"Oh, no…" Arthur stepped back in horror. He recognized the witch, and she filled him with more dread than the newcomers had.

"I KNEW something delightfully dreadful was happening over here when I heard the noise!" the witch crowed. "Though I'm a little offended that you didn't invite me to the party!"

"If I'd have known someone like you was in these parts," Mozenrath admitted, charging up his gauntlet once more, "I would have."

Roman kicked down a knight and no more took his place. Snatcher thwacked another in the head with his mallet. It seemed they'd taken out all of the royal guard at long last. "MR. TORCHWICK!" Snatcher pointed at the cowering Arthur. "GET THE BOY!"

"Gladly." Roman braced the Cudgel, rushing Arthur.

Mozenrath raised his fist high, letting burning hot magic bubble up in it like liquid and spill over onto the pinned Merlin. Merlin, however, was faster. He simply wasn't there anymore, and Mozenrath's new attack hit the stone harmlessly. The witch blinked, confused.

A bright blue dragonfly buzzed away from the two magicians; it transformed back into Merlin's proper form when he'd reached a safe distance. "As I was saying," he grumbled, "I have had it up to HERE with ALL OF YOU!" He drew back his arms, then flicked them, casting the spell he'd intended to from the start.

Mozenrath and the witch stared at him blankly. Roman had seized Arthur by a shoulder, pressing the Cudgel against the boy's chest, while Snatcher went for the sword at the boy's hip.

Then, in a glittering flash and with four squeaks of indignation, Mozenrath, Snatcher, Roman, and the witch were all transformed into rats, plopping down hard on the floor. Each was the color of its human body's hair – one jet-black, one lavender, one red-orange, and one somewhere between black and dark gray.

"There!" Merlin put his hands on his hips. "That should teach you all a thing or two!" He immediately turned to Arthur, running to the boy in concern. "Are you all right, my boy – "

In a puff of brilliant purple smoke and a cloud of glitter, the witch transformed back into her human self. "Nice try, Merlin," she gloated, "but you should have known that wouldn't work on me!"

Mozenrath tried in vain to undo his own transformation, but with no luck. He gritted his rodent teeth, cursing out that Merlin had been able to overpower him and magically lock him down. That raised a lot of questions about the power level of the witch.

"What will it be, then?" Merlin asked indignantly. "A challenge, as usual? More rules you lay down so you can break?"

"Oh, I was thinking this time, I'd just shorthand it and burn down your castle," the witch remarked offhandedly. "But not without my new pets!" She reached down and scooped up Mozenrath into a hand. Mozenrath let himself be picked up; he didn't see any better options right now, and it seemed beneficial to him to get on the witch's good side.

Roman and Snatcher, following his train of thought, bolted toward the witch, and she scooped them up as well. Xerxes flitted behind her head for refuge.

"Y-You're not really going to burn this castle down, are you?" Arthur asked nervously.

"I thought you knew me better than THAT!" the witch huffed before transforming. The rats were suddenly cradled in one hand, which became an enormous reptilian claw. Rocketing into a great height, the witch became an enormous dragon, bright purple and rounded in shape. She drew in one gigantic breath, then expelled it in the form of fire. All of the multicolored banners of the throne room became enveloped in flames, turning the color scheme of the room bright red-orange.

"Y'know, I think I like this woman," Roman remarked.

"Oh, good…" Snatcher sighed with relief. "We've retained our power of speech after all."

"This. Is. Humiliating," Mozenrath grunted.

The witch then knew she had to move fast. She was cocky, but she knew Merlin was clever, and she recalled quite well what had happened last time she'd pulled the dragon trick around Merlin. Having no interest in playing host to the wizard in the form of a germ that would have her laid up in bed for weeks, she took that moment to disappear. She couldn't think of a higher note to leave on than setting the castle on fire, anyway.

"MERLIN!" Arthur cried. "What do we do?"

"Just hold on, my boy!" Merlin told him. "I'm about to set this right as rain!"

At the wizard's request, great dark clouds formed near the ceiling of the room. After a brief thunderclap, rainwater poured down from them, dousing the fires set by the witch.

After a silence in which Arthur took stock to make sure that the flames were in fact put out, he sighed, "I sure learned a lesson today about strangers."

...

When the woman reappeared in the woods at the kingdom's edge, she was in human form again, the three rats cradled in her hands and Xerxes floating nervously nearby. "Well, aren't you three just the most adorable things!" she cooed. "Though you were admittedly cuter when you were trying to destroy Arthur's castle."

"We were actually going for his enchanted sword," Mozenrath admitted. "And to kill the king."

"It was all in hopes that we'd become the new lords of this land," Snatcher added.

"Getting to shoot all the guards was just a bonus," Roman chimed in.

"Who are you, anyway?" Mozenrath asked. "The fact that you were able to undo Merlin's transformations and I can't says a lot."

"Oh, I've done my fair share of shapeshifting," the witch bragged. "In fact…" The next thing the trio of rats knew, their holder was singing: "From dragons to hornets, I can take any shape, whate'er leaves destruction within its wake! With Darkness and magic, I'm filled to the brim! For I'm the magnificent, marvelous Mad Madam Mim!" This was followed by a round of high-pitched giggling.

"Well, Madam Mim," Mozenrath asked, "can you undo the transformation on us?"

"Ohhhh, goodness, no," Mim informed him. "I can only transform myself! Transforming others is a completely other matter. I've never wanted or needed to do it, you see, so I'm out of practice. But I MIGHT know somewhere you can be transformed…for a price."

"Name it," Mozenrath told her, "though we can't promise we can pay it."

"Next time you pull a stunt like that again," Mim asked, "with mass destruction and murder, you'll let me in on it!"

"I actually might have an agreement that would work out for both of us," Mozenrath told her. "My associates and I happen to be in the business of world conquest."

"Which world?"

Mozenrath hadn't expected that response from Mim. "All of them. So you know how many are out there."

"Oh, there are INFINITE worlds to turn into gruesome wastelands!" Mim cackled. "In fact, the place we need to go to fix you up is on another world entirely!"

"That makes things easier already," Mozenrath sighed. "Anyway, as you can see, we're a bit lacking in numbers, and we could use some magical backup. You joining us would be as much of a help to us as it would be fun for you."

"How lovely!" Mim crowed. "Then you've got yourself a deal! But first, now that you know who I am, tell me who YOU all are."

A few minutes were spent on introductions. After hearing about Mozenrath, Roman, and Snatcher's résumés, Mim decided that they were the best fit for her after all, and she agreed to join their ranks, which appealed to all three of them. Mim then informed them that in order to access the part of the world she knew that could undo the rodent transformations, they would have to either break into a palace or talk their way in. With everyone but Mim out of commission in the combat department, it was agreed upon that they should try a more diplomatic approach.

"Besides," as Roman put it, "I'm STILL impressed with how Archie just got them to LET US IN THE FRONT DOOR."

"Don't call me th…" Snatcher sighed. "Suppose I'm stuck with that name from you, then?"

"You know you love it." The orange rat nudged the darker rat playfully.

"Of course, a rat can't talk his way into a kingdom," Snatcher pointed out. "Madam Mim, you'll have to be the mouthpiece of his operation."

"And what am I supposed to tell them?" Mim asked. "That I want to steal alchemical materials from them in order to turn three evil knights back into humans?"

"You might be the one doing the talking," Snatcher reassured her, "but I'll supply the words. I recommend you find some sort of cloak with a hood. That way, I can speak to you from your shoulder unseen."

Mim made a grabbing motion in the air. She flicked her hand, and a length of deep purple fabric snapped into it. As Snatcher climbed up onto her right shoulder, Mim flung the cloak around herself gently, fastening it loosely at the neck. If one was really looking, one could see a slight bulge where a rat was sitting at her shoulder to advise her.

"And Roman and me?" Mozenrath asked.

"And me!" Xerxes chimed in.

"And Xerxes," Mozenrath sighed.

"You'll just get to stay in here." Mim produced a purse from thin air in much the same way that she'd rustled up the cloak.

Mozenrath tentatively climbed inside. The purse's interior was bigger than its exterior, and its innards turned out to be a storage facility for a myriad of objects, all of which seemed rat-sized. There were even some slightly weathered cushions for Mozenrath, Xerxes, and Roman to sit on. When Mim moved while wearing the purse slung over her left shoulder, the interior remained stable, and its passengers didn't feel as though they were moving at all.

"There's a lot of impressive magic going on here," Mozenrath remarked.

"If I told my old boss that there were this many people running around with real magic," Roman pointed out, "she'd flip a lid."

"We're all set!" Mim crowed. "OFF WE GO!"

"To where, exactly?" Snatcher inquired.

"Why, to the Kingdom of the Sun!" Mim announced before vanishing.

...

The skies were even brighter over the Kingdom of the Sun than they were over Arthur's England. The elevated palace, carved in the rough shape of a squarish face bearing a fanlike crown, was made entirely of gold, and those milling about in the village below tried to avoid looking directly at it during the afternoon for fear of being blinded.

Within this palace, there was a room where the throne was elevated as well, high above all who came to see the emperor among the walls of crimson. The emperor himself sat here: a bony young man with raven-black hair, robed in bright red and bearing a crown that matched the shape of the palace.

Down below, a burly guard, painted half blue and half red and bare-chested to show this off, approached the throne. "Emperor Kuzco," he announced. "There is a visitor here to see you from one of the outer villages."

"Well, don't keep 'em waiting!" Kuzco said excitedly. "Show 'em on in!"

Two other guards flanked the cloaked Mim as she entered. Snatcher got a good look from his vantage point on her shoulder, but Mozenrath and Roman had to have a little squabble over who got to peer out of the top of the purse first. When Mozenrath got a look at Kuzco, he seriously regretted it. He'd always thought he was incredibly accomplished for his age, but in the past two hours, he'd faced down a king several years his junior and an emperor who looked to be exactly his age. It wasn't humbling so much as it was infuriating.

"Hey there!" Kuzco greeted the stranger. "So. What can I do ya for?"

"He's not much like that Arthur child at all," Snatcher muttered.

"You're not much like that Arthur child at all," Mim stated out loud.

Snatcher groaned. "Not. YET."

"Whoops!" Mim clapped a hand to her mouth.

"Um…what?" Kuzco asked, baffled.

"Oh, nothing!" Mim shook her head. "I've come here with…er…"

"Grave tidings," Snatcher whispered.

"Grave tidings!" Mim finished.

Snatcher whispered more into her ear.

"You see, where I come from, everyone's fallen ill with a dreadful plague," Mim informed Kuzco. "They're dying left and right!" She said all of this with a great grin upon her face at the thought.

"Um…no offense, but you seem a liiiiiiittle bit too happy about all the death in your village," Kuzco pointed out.

"Madam Mim!" Snatcher hissed. "I realize an incurable pandemic is a source of infinite joy to you, but for the sake of all of us, play the part! Show some grief!"

"I'm not happy about it at all." Mim slapped on a frown. "In fact…" She buried her eyes behind an arm, pretending to cry. "I'm DEVASTATED! OOH BOOHOOHOOHOOHOOOOOO!" Her wails echoed off the walls.

"Hey…" Kuzco grabbed onto the cord of a decorative pendulum that hung from the ceiling, using it to slide down to the floor. "Hey, it's okay!" He approached Mim gingerly, reaching out to pat her shoulder comfortingly – thankfully the left one. "There there. We're gonna figure this out, okay?"

"I've heard," Mim blubbered through her crocodile tears, "that there was a laboratory here…that was used for all sorts of medicines and cures. You don't suppose there's a way…"

"Well, I've never heard of anything like that being down in that lab," Kuzco told her, "but we can sure check it out, okay? Come on. Let's go."

He led the overacting Mim out of the throne room and down toward the laboratory in question.

...

The lower levels of the palace were much more grim in palette than the upper. There was a distinct lack of gold and crimson, replaced instead by gray and black stone. Kuzco led Mim and her hidden entourage through a labyrinth of claustrophobic tunnels until they reached a stone head of an unknown animal carved in the wall. Two of its bottom teeth were carved upward to form long levers. Kuzco took his place before the stone head, gesturing to it; "Would you like to do the honors and pull the lever?"

"WOULD I?" Mim shrieked happily, darting toward the stone head.

"Not gonna lie," Roman whispered to Mozenrath and Xerxes. "A little jealous that she gets to pull the lever."

"Hmmmm." Mim looked over her two choices.

"It's the one on the – " Kuzco began.

"THIS one!" Mim wrenched the left-hand lever down.

Kuzco managed to sputter "NO, NOT THAT ONE!" before the tile beneath him on the floor opened up, plunging him down below. There was a distant splash. Then the tile closed back over.

"…I believe you've just murdered the emperor," Snatcher pointed out.

Mim shrugged, almost sending Snatcher flying. "Oh well!"

A section of the wall opened up, and Kuzco strode back into the hall, kicking a crocodile in the jaw so it wouldn't follow him; the wall closed back up behind him, sealing the crocodile away. "O-kaaaaay!" Kuzco announced. "Where were we?"

This time, Mim pulled the correct lever, sending Kuzco, herself, and all her hidden passengers flipping around to the other side of the wall, landing in a two –person cart. As a voice overhead advised to please keep arms inside the cart at all times, Snatcher barely had time to wonder who was even speaking before the cart plunged downward on a stone rollercoaster track.

Inside the purse, Mozenrath, Xerxes, and Roman only felt a gentle incline. Mim and Kuzco, sent on a rushing ride, screamed with joy, throwing their hands into the air. The unfortunate Snatcher dug teeth and claws into the fabric of Mim's shirt and cloak, hanging on for dear life lest he get flung off the back of the cart and splatter against the stone.

At last, the cart pulled to a halt, flinging Mim and Kuzco off. As they landed, they found themselves dressed in white lab coats. "Yeah, don't mind this," Kuzco said, shrugging off his coat. "The last person to own this place had some…quirks."

Down in the purse, Mozenrath, Roman, and Xerxes listened intently to what was going on above. They were briefly interrupted when Snatcher crashed in on them, immediately collapsing. "I…need…stability," he gasped.

"Um…you okay there?" Roman put a paw on Snatcher's foreleg comfortingly.

"I am most likely about to be sick," Snatcher answered. "One of you get up there and do the talking." He bit back what would have been a wave of vomit.

Mozenrath took that as his cue to scramble out of the purse and up Mim's sleeve to rest on her shoulder, leaving Roman to tend to the thoroughly disoriented Snatcher ("You're okay, Archie, just take a deep breath…").

"So anyway, here's the lab." Kuzco gestured around to the enormous chamber, which was filled with glass beakers and distillation and alchemy equipment of all sorts.

Mim and Mozenrath's attention was diverted by a flicker of gray movement somewhere between all the beakers on one of the tables. As Mim turned to get a better look, a haughty gray cat with a thick and luxurious coat came into view, glowering at Mim for daring to trespass upon her territory.

"Let's see…" Kuzco looked around. "I know THAT was where our last royal advisor kept her transformation potions…" He pointed to a large owl-shaped cabinet; the doors were carved as wings.

That was exactly what Mim had been waiting for. With an "OOH!", she rushed to the cabinet and flung the wing doors open wide to find the shelves completely empty.

"Don't bother," a high-pitched voice sighed. Mim turned to see that it was the cat who had spoken. "They threw all of THOSE out to keep me in line."

"Oh!" Kuzco strode toward the cat. "This, by the way, is Yzma. And she is completely one hundred percent evil, so don't listen to a word she says."

"There was a time when the whole empire listened to every word I said!" Yzma reminisced. "There was a time when I was the beautiful, glamorous royal advisor!"

"You let a talking cat be your royal advisor?" Mim asked in wonder.

"I WAS A HUMAN THEN, YOU IMBECILE!" Yzma screeched.

"Yeah, she was a pretty great royal advisor," Kuzco elaborated. "And a GREAT mad scientist. Right up until the point where she tried to kill me but accidentally turned me into a llama, and then she became the world's WORST empress for about two days before I turned back up, she became the most wanted criminal, and now she's our adowable widdle mascot!" Kuzco ruffled Yzma's fur, much to the cat's displeasure. "Awen't you just da cutest widdle THING!"

"Don't touch me," Yzma grumbled.

Mozenrath's interest had become severely piqued. So this cat had once been a conqueror as well; a now disgraced one. And one with flair, too, it seemed, if her manner of speaking was any indication.

"So what you're saying is you're completely out of human transformation potions?" Mim asked.

"Yeeeeessssss?" Kuzco answered. "But we weren't looking for that. We were looking for a cure for your plague."

Mim waited for advice to be slipped to her. Mozenrath whispered, "Tell him that is the cure for the plague."

"That is the cure for the plague," Mim parroted.

"So you're saying the plague turns people into animals." Kuzco was growing skeptical.

Mim waited once more for counsel.

"Drop the pretense," Mozenrath hissed. "After all, he's too young to have any avenging heirs."

"I'm afraid we're done doing business here," Mim told Kuzco with a sly smirk.

Yzma watched with interest. This was taking a turn she hadn't expected, and she was liking it.

"Uh…what are you doing?" Kuzco asked nervously as he watched Mim's form begin to change shape.

Mim transformed into a large lavender jaguar studded with black blotches. Her purse of holding dangled from around her neck, and Mozenrath sat square upon her back, just behind her shoulders. She gave a snarl.

"Uhm…lady…?" Kuzco backed up nervously.

Yzma, at about this time, was wishing she had some snacks to eat while watching this delightful show.

Mim waggled her shoulders in true cat fashion before making a lunge at Kuzco, claws extended.

Kuzco leapt backward, just out of the way, as those claws came down on empty air. He fumbled, finding a cord that dangled from the ceiling, and yanked it hard.

"Uh-oh," Yzma muttered.

The walls opened up to reveal lines of guards at attention with raised maces; an alarm bell was sounding repeatedly. "TRYING TO KILL ME!" Kuzco sputtered, pointing at Mim. "CRAZY CAT LADY TRYING TO KILL ME!"

Maces hoisted high, the guards charged Mim at full speed.

"RUN!" Mozenrath yelled out of pure instinct.

Mim turned and bolted down a nearby hallway as the guards gave chase. "I could take them if I were a dragon, you know!" she growled.

"There are too many, and there are still too few of us!" Mozenrath reminded her. "You realize that ordinary sized humans HAVE slain dragons before, right? Just get us back home!"

"WAAAAIIIIIIIT!" The high-pitched cry came from Yzma, who had made pace with Mim's gait. "TAKE ME WITH YOU!"

"And why should I?" Mim asked indignantly.

"Because I'll make you all the human transformation potions you want!" Yzma promised. "All I need is a lab, the right materials, and a pair of actual hands to do the work for me! But please, PLEASE don't leave me here! I can't put up with being Kuzco's 'adowable' mascot one more day! I want to be my glorious human self again! I want to be an EMPRESS again! You just tried to murder the emperor, so you must want what I want!"

"We are in the business of world conquest," Mozenrath informed Yzma, leaning over Mim's shoulder to address her. "And I will admit, your story intrigued me."

"You're the one who needs to be turned human, right?" Yzma deduced. "Take me with you, and you'll have it! And so will I!"

"If you promise to help us with our mission of dominating every kingdom and collecting as much magic as we can get our hands on," Mozenrath offered, "you're in."

"You won't regret this!" Yzma promised.

"Mim," Mozenrath commanded, "take us home."

The jaguar, the three rats, the eel, and the cat all vanished, and the guards skidded to a befuddled halt.


	3. The Vault of the Huntsclan

1\. The Vault

"And now," Yzma announced from her seat atop the Hotland lab counter, "if all of the ingredients have blended correctly, the potion has been distilled to perfection, the heat has remained at a steady 100 degrees, and it has been stirred EXACTLY five times counterclockwise, you should have completed a human transformation potion."

Mim turned a valve on a distillation bottle hanging upside down, and the now cooling pink potion dripped bit by bit into a large bowl. She'd gathered materials and set up all of the laboratory equipment to Yzma's exact specifications, though she found the whole process rather tedious. "You have to do this every time you want to turn into something?" she asked Yzma.

"Hard work pays off," Yzma reminded her.

"If I was capable of feeling sorry," Mim told her, "I would for you."

"I'm not sure how to take that," the cat admitted.

When the bowl was full, Mim shoved it across the counter toward the three rats, a bit spilling over onto the counter as she did so. Yzma observed that the liquid remained stable after splashing out; the fact that it didn't burn a hole through the counter was a good sign that the process had been done correctly.

"FINALLY," Roman sighed as he, Snatcher, and Mozenrath leaned up over the lip of the bowl and began lapping at the pink liquid fervently. Within thirty seconds, there was a sparkle of magic in the air; all three regained human form at the exact same time and promptly fell off the counter, tumbling hard onto the floor.

"Graceful," Yzma commented.

"Not a word," Mozenrath sighed as he got up and dusted himself off, with Roman and Snatcher to follow suit soon after.

"So that's what you really look like," Yzma observed. "You have a good sense of color coordination. This won't be a COMPLETE disappointment."

Snatcher realized then that his clothes, as well as Roman's and Mozenrath's, had come right back when they'd transformed. He decided not to give himself a headache trying to work out where they'd gone and why they'd been included as part and parcel of their bodily metamorphosis. Doubtless the others weren't giving it a second thought.

Yzma bounded over to the bowl, lapping up the rest of the potion that sloshed around the bottom of it. She daintily leapt off the counter before her own transformation took place, landing on her paws right before they turned into feet enclosed in stiletto heels. Her body molded itself into that of a tall and bony elderly woman with striking purple skin; she was clothed in a shimmering purple cocktail dress topped off with a matching beret. "MUCH better," she sighed, turning a 180 and craning her head about to look at her regained true form.

"Now that THAT humiliation is behind us," Mozenrath suggested, "maybe next time, we can strategize a little better BEFORE we go barging into a kingdom at random."

"Lesson learned," Roman sighed. "Respect the paperwork."

"Our apologies, Lord Mozenrath," Snatcher said with a brief incline of the head.

"Well, it wasn't a complete waste," Mozenrath pointed out. "After all…our side is now two people stronger." He grinned at Yzma and Mim. "Welcome aboard, ladies."

"Glad to be aboard!" Mim bowed.

"Eh." Yzma shrugged. "Beats spending another day with Kuzco. I take it from your implications that you have our next move plotted out?"

Roman had attempted to retrieve a cigarette from his pocket, but somewhere during all the transformations and invasions, he'd lost his whole pack. "Our next move better include a supply run," he grunted.

"Perhaps to stock up for a celebratory feast!" Snatcher suggested.

"What are we celebrating?" Mozenrath asked. "We lost. Twice."

"SOMEONE'S a pessimist," Mim grunted.

"Have you been using this laboratory to forge weapons?" Yzma glanced around the room, seeing the leftover scrap metal from Roman's endeavors. "If that is the case, I demand one of my own!"

Mozenrath shrugged. "You know what? If you want to stay behind and gather supplies, fine. If you want to forge weapons, that's fine. The next mission I had in mind was one I can do alone. I'll take any volunteers who want to come along, of course."

"Well?" Mim asked eagerly. "What is it?"

"As I was telling Torchwick and Snatcher before our little escapade through your kingdoms…" Mozenrath lifted his right hand, and a rolled-up page appeared in it with a slight puff of scented smoke. He unrolled the paper to reveal a sketch of a skyscraper with gothically arched windows and a red gable, situated in the midst of a crowded city. "This is the building that houses the Vault of the Huntsclan. An organization dedicated to slaying all kinds of magical creatures. They ended up stockpiling magic from their own world and a few others in order to make their killing more efficient. Then, in one night, every single member of the Huntsclan was killed by a mysterious force. I wouldn't stick around on that world for too long knowing that something capable of destroying the entire Huntsclan in one night was there…something like that could probably give Maleficent a run for her money. However, a quick trip into that vault should yield a few interesting artifacts."

"Sounds boring," Mim commented.

"As much as I love a good break-in," Roman added, "I have to agree that this one sounds on the boring side."

"Does ANYONE want to accompany me to the Vault of the Huntsclan?" Mozenrath asked before anyone else could complain.

He was met with silence. Yzma coughed.

"Then I'll go on my own." Mozenrath rolled up the paper, clenching his fist and sending it away. "It should be a fairly easy mission. I'll be back in time for whatever feast you manage to cook up, victory or otherwise, and I'll bring back some items of magical caliber that should give us a better edge."

"We look forward to seeing the spoils!" Snatcher told him earnestly.

With that, Mozenrath vanished, leaving the other four alone in the laboratory.

"So," Yzma asked, "where can I find a blowtorch?"

...

The Huntsclan's former headquarters was a spear protruding from the heart of one of the infinite New York Cities of the multiverse, surrounded by honking traffic and walls of chrome. No one had really bothered to check out the building. Everyone in the nonmagical sector of the city who knew about it knew that it had belonged to an eccentric and very wealthy man, and that man hadn't been seen for a long time. As long as he refused to put in an appearance, nothing could be legally done with the building.

Everyone in the magical sector, however, was well aware of the mass death of the Huntsclan, and even those of pacifist bents caught themselves praising the fact that such mass murderers had finally disappeared from the world. A few of them even knew the tale of the Huntsgirl who had been saved from death at the last moment and devoted herself to fighting on the side of magical creatures' defense instead of their destruction.

The Vault was located in the lower levels of the building, far belowground. Nonmagical folk would have been surprised to see the arched stone tunnels that networked below the skyscraper, lit with archaic lanterns. Mozenrath wasn't fazed by the sight when he appeared in the midst of it. It looked to him exactly how every magical vault should look.

He found his way through the labyrinth of tunnels by trial and error, at last coming across a wall engraved with two elaborate weapons modeled after spears (a pair of Huntstaffs, though Mozenrath didn't know the exact terminology) crossed above a regally calligraphed "H." Mozenrath recognized it immediately as not a wall but a door. He raised his right hand to it, willing the door to move; it shifted to the side, reacting to the magic in his gauntlet, revealing a vaulted room beyond.

Mozenrath stepped into the newly uncovered room to find that it was a mausoleum…or should have been. Alcoves in the walls, from the bottom to the top, were filled with polished coffins. However, when Mozenrath curiously removed the lid from one, he found it empty. "Strange…" he muttered to himself.

There were a few doors set in amongst the alcoves, giving Mozenrath a few choices to search out for artifacts. However, it occurred to him that instead of trying every single door and searching out every single shelf, potentially wandering down miles and miles more of tunnels, he could find himself a guide. The Huntsclan might all have been dead, but that wasn't really an obstacle to a necromancer. He did need a slight idea of who he was bringing back, but "the leader of the Huntsclan" was enough to go on.

He raised his right hand, pointing at the floor. A bright circle of blue appeared in the center of it, and a body rose up from the depths, housing a newly returned soul to the realm of the living.

...

At the base of Mt. Ebott, in the town of Knightdock, a grocery store employee was restocking the shelf with pasta sauce. It seemed that ever since the monster population of Mt. Ebott had integrated with the humans of Knightdock, the store had been constantly running out of spaghetti sauce, not to mention actual spaghetti.

"Excuse me," a voice said from behind the stocker. "I was wondering if you could direct me to the free food and cigarettes?"

"I'm sorry, the what?" the stocker said without turning around.

"You know. The best gourmet food I don't have to pay for. Preferably if you wrap it up for me in a nice package. And I'm about dying for a cigarette right now, so the sooner you hand them over, the better."

"Look." The stocker turned around. "I'm not in the mood to kid around, okay? We don't offer free food, and we definitely don't give out free cig – "

He found himself face-to-face with the barrel of the Melodic Cudgel. It wasn't a conventional gun by any standards, but it was still easily recognizable as a gun.

"I think we're having a bit of a misunderstanding," Roman emphasized. "Because I see free food all around here. Now, would you be so kind as to hand it over, or do I have to start blowing brains out until I can get some good customer service?"

The stocker shakily handed a jar of alfredo sauce over to Roman.

Roman smirked. "Good start."

...

The leader of the Huntsclan was clothed in a green tunic with a brown cape fastened about his shoulders with a brilliant chartreuse stone. Most strikingly, his head was covered with a sharp-looking helmet fashioned out of a dragon skull. Between the jaws, his head was wrapped up in black fabric. Between that and the shadows of the skull, the only piece of his face – or his body at all, really – that was visible were his eyes, which, in the current light, looked crimson. These crimson eyes took in the sight of the Huntsclan crypt with some surprise before finally falling and fixing upon Mozenrath.

"Where am I…?" the man asked in a deep voice.

"You're alive again, for starters," Mozenrath explained.

"But how?" The man only needed to think it over for a moment before he came up with the answer: "You're…a necromancer…"

"Indeed I am," Mozenrath confirmed proudly. "And I'm in need of a guide around this place. I don't suppose you'd be willing to help me out with that, would you? After all, I did just restore your life force from what was either an agonizing existence in the River Styx or a neverending torment in Tartarus. I think you at least owe me a look around."

The newly resurrected man wasn't fond of being ordered around, but the necromancer was right, and he was unarmed. "What is it you seek?"

"Magic," Mozenrath answered.

"There is much magic to be found here," the resurrected man informed him. "What manner of magic is it that you want?"

"The most powerful."

The resurrected man thought it over. "Very well. I can show you a host of items that might be of use to you. After all…there is no longer a Huntsclan to make use of them."

"Well, there's at least one Huntsman now," Mozenrath pointed out. "What do they call you, anyway?"

"They called me just that: the Huntsman," the Huntsman explained. "And that is what you shall call me."

"Then lead the way, Huntsman."

"Not before I know your name."

"Mozenrath," the sorcerer answered. "Lord Mozenrath, formerly of the Black Sands. Soon to be lord of much, much more."

"Come this way, Mozenrath," the Huntsman beckoned, crossing the room to open one of the doors. It led into a tunnel with smaller alcoves set in the walls; various artifacts from different times and cultures rested there, with explanatory plaques and cards. The Huntsman brushed right past these early finds; the more powerful objects were kept deeper in the vault.

Mozenrath caught up and kept pace. "Rumor has it your clan collected magic from various worlds."

"For one purpose and one alone," the Huntsman clarified. "To destroy magical creatures. Especially dragons."

"What did dragons ever do to you?"

This earned Mozenrath a sullen silence.

"Just making conversation," Mozenrath clarified. "I can go either way on them, myself. I'm guessing you killed the one you're wearing."

"Those who graduated from apprentice level would traditionally wear the skull of their first kill," the Huntsman explained.

"And if the first kill is a gremlin?" Mozenrath teased.

"One can only ascend the ranks by killing a dragon," the Huntsman countered.

"And how many dragons have you killed?"

"A great many."

"You know," Mozenrath brought up, "we could use a warrior like you."

"And who is 'we'?"

"My little band of conquerors," Mozenrath explained.

"The ones who are helping you take over this 'much, much more,'" the Huntsman clarified.

"The same," Mozenrath affirmed. "I know you haven't much been in the business of usurping thrones, but with your magical repertoire, your fighting spirit, and your ability to kill things several times your size, you'd go a long way in that business. And as of right now, if I have my facts right, you don't really have many other options, do you?"

"I must follow my calling," the Huntsman insisted. "Those born with the mark of the dragon are destined to slay them."

"So where's your mark?"

"Nowhere you're about to see."

"That's the nifty little thing about conquest," Mozenrath explained. "Once you've taken a territory over, you can kill whoever and whatever you want in it. You help us plant a flag in a place, all the dragons in it become yours for target practice."

"I will consider it," the Huntsman resolved. "But first, you may want to turn your attention to the shelves here. There is much that a discerning magical eye would find of interest."

...

Of Roman Torchwick, Archibald Snatcher, Mad Madam Mim, and Yzma, only the latter could cook. She was used to delicate measurements and laboratory precision. To her, the act of boiling the water for pasta was an art. However, whenever she asked for help from one of the other three, she learned quite the hard way that Mim preferred to speed things up by setting them on fire, Roman's idea of working an oven was to press every button on it, and while Snatcher was all too ready to obediently marinate vegetables in lemon, he had absolutely no sense of taste, and proclaimed that he'd done the job perfectly only for Yzma to place a chunk of bell pepper in her mouth and become overwhelmed with sour citrus. In the end, she'd shooed all of them out of the kitchen so she could work in peace.

At long last, Yzma reappeared from the kitchen with a plate of quesadillas, baked with as many vegetables as she could stuff in and held together with a heavy layer of cheese, held aloft victoriously. "Dinner is served!" she proclaimed. "And not a single one is poisoned, on my honor."

Roman, Snatcher, and Mim cleaned up the game of poker they'd been invested in – using pieces of candy found around the kitchen as chips – so that Yzma could lay the plate down. "Mozenrath hasn't returned?" she asked in surprise.

"I guess he's still looking for magic in that vault," Mim said with a shrug.

"You don't suppose he's been captured by enemy forces…?" Yzma wondered out loud.

"Eh, if he doesn't come back in three days, we'll launch a search party," Roman resolved.

"At the very least, we should wait to eat until he returns," Yzma suggested.

The absolutely hungry look in the other three's eyes told her that wasn't happening. She was pretty sure there was a bead of drool forming at the corner of Roman's lip. Yzma even had to admit to herself that the smell of the quesadillas was hitting her hard, making her stomach protest rather loudly.

"All right." She plunked the plate down on the table. "Dig in."

She took a seat, and soon, each had his or her own quesadilla, munching away happily.

"I must say this is quite a fine victory feast," Snatcher proclaimed, mouth full. A nagging itch was developing at the side of his neck; he reached for it with one hand.

"Thank you," Yzma said briskly. "And I couldn't have done it without all of you leaving me alone."

"Happy to not be of service!" Mim joked.

"You…okay there, Archie?" Roman asked, noticing Snatcher's scratching. The skin he was fussing with also seemed to be gaining a few bright crimson hives.

"Just an itch," Snatcher dismissed; the hives were now spreading to his face. "But truly! This is a momentous occasion! For the four of us…no, that's the five of us, with Lord Mozenrath…have become the truly elite! Soon, they shall be singing our praises in the streets! They shall be throwing confetti at our arrival! They shall be…what are you all looking at?"

Yzma, Mim, and Roman were frozen in horror, staring wide-eyed at Snatcher. For one, they didn't understand where this half-tangent about being praised was coming from. But more importantly, Snatcher's speech was becoming slurred by his swelling lower lip and left cheek.

"N…nothing," Roman managed.

"As I was saying!" Snatcher went on. "It is we who are truly fit to be kings and queens of this and all worlds, as Lord Mozenrath proclaimed! Far unlike Lord Portley-Rind and his band of White Hats. Imagine if they could see me now! Dining like an emperor with his fellow…his fellow…" As he struggled to find the wording, his left eye was swelling shut. "Dash it all, his fellows. And if I ever saw THEM, why, I'm free now to do as I wish. I don't have to put up with their mockery anymore! I don't have to put up with their degradation anymore! If that Lord Portley-Rind showed his face around here, why…I'd murder him with my bare hands."

"That's…erm…fascinating," Yzma sputtered. "You…by any chance, you're not allergic to – "

It clicked for Roman, and he quickly leaned over and slapped a hand over Yzma's mouth before she could continue.

"WHAT did you say?" Snatcher, now bloating all over the left half of his body with the right half starting to follow suit, turned on Yzma, fixing her angrily in the sights of his currently good eye.

"Mmrmph!" Yzma struggled to break Roman's grip.

"Allergic to NOTHING, that is, Lady Portley-Rind!" Snatcher went on. "You think you can see me as a lesser being over such a thing? Well, you and your band of white-hatted imbeciles can forget it! I'm the one who'll be tasting the finer cheeses from now on, and it'll be all you can do to sit and watch!"

Yzma finally wrestled Roman's arm away. "What did you just call me?"

"YOU HEARD ME, 'LADY' PORTLEY-RIND!" Snatcher got up from his seat to yell at her. "I'VE HAD IT UP TO HERE WITH ALL OF YOU! YOU AND YOUR BRATTY LITTLE DAUGHTER THERE!" He pointed right at Mim with a blubbery hand. "WHY DON'T YOU BOTH JUST GO JUMP IN THE RIVER AND DROWN YOURSELVES? BETTER YET, I'LL THROW YOU IN MYSELF!"

He lunged for Yzma; she leapt out of her chair, and Snatcher collapsed to the ground. "What is WRONG WITH YOU?" Yzma shrieked.

"Wrong with ME!" Snatcher grabbed the edge of the table so as to right himself. "You should be asking what's wrong with – " He pulled the table lopsided so that all of its remaining dishes crashed onto him; he hardly noticed.

Mim burst into laughter at the collapse of the dishes.

"SO YOU THINK I'M A LAUGHINGSTOCK, DO YOU, LITTLE MISS PORTLEY-RIND!" Snatcher accused, finally getting to his feet. "WON'T BE LAUGHING SO MUCH WHEN I HAVE MR. TORCHWICK SHOOT YOU, WILL YOU, WIN-I-FRED? TORCHWICK! SHOOT THIS PAMPERED LITTLE BRAT RIGHT THROUGH HER COIFFED CURLS!"

"Um…I don't think I want to," Roman replied. "Who is that, exactly?"

"Winifred Portley-Rind!" Snatcher growled. "Daughter of His Idiotship! And THAT over there is his wife!" He jabbed another ballooning finger at Yzma.

"And who am I?" Roman asked.

Snatcher fixed a baffled gaze upon him. "You're Roman Torchwick. Have you lost your memory or something?"

"How come he's not hallucinating YOU?" Yzma seethed at Roman.

"I…don't know," Roman said gingerly.

"I! AM NOT! HALLUCINATING!" Snatcher bellowed at Yzma before toppling to the ground yet again. "I'm just…having a…bit of a dizzy spell. BUT WHEN IT'S OVER, IT'S THE RIVER FOR YOU TWO! AM I NOT RIGHT, MR. TORCHWICK?"

Roman slowly backed toward Mim. "Teleport me into town," he whispered to her.

"Where in town?" she hissed back.

"What are you WHISPERING about?" Yzma called over to them.

"RIVER!" Snatcher insisted.

"There's a pharmacy on 3rd and Dindal," Roman whispered. "Take me there. Now would be nice."

As the shimmer of teleportation magic surrounded Mim and Roman, Yzma realized she was being ditched. "Don't LEAVE ME HERE WITH HIM!" she cried in horror.

But then they were gone, and Snatcher was on his feet, staring Yzma down with rage in his eyes.

"You want to throw me into the river, then?" Yzma asked. She darted into the kitchen, only to reappear with a carving fork brandished like a weapon. "JUST YOU TRY IT!"

...

Going along the way down the vault, Mozenrath took notice of several items that he wanted to collect. He'd taken a page from Mim's book, so to speak, shrinking them so they could fit in his pockets before moving along to collect some more.

His attention was caught by a sheaf of papers with no explanatory plaque. "And what are these?" he asked the Huntsman.

"We weren't quite sure," the Huntsman admitted. "It is said these are pages ripped from the Codex of Abraham the Mage. We retrieved them from a heated battle with a witch. However, none of us was ever able to translate the writing. It may contain a spell of great power, or it may contain useless information about events lost to time."

"Still worth a look." Mozenrath shrank the pages into his inventory. He moved one alcove down and was stopped short in his tracks. "You…have it."

"What?" the Huntsman replied.

Mozenrath took the wooden box into his hands. "The Heylin Puzzle Box," he answered. "I was just reading about this, actually. You know there's supposed to be a witch trapped inside."

"She was released," the Huntsman explained, "but trapped again. And released again, and trapped yet again. Her world was caught between two forces, much like those caught between Light and Darkness. In her case, it was the Xiaolin and the Heylin, warring over ancient magics. The two sides clashed one final time, and the Heylin lost. Or so they say. For all we know, we may have been fed lies, and the box is empty."

"Is there a reason you never opened it to check?" Mozenrath asked.

"The same that the pages from the Codex, if that is where they truly originated, were never translated," the Huntsman explained. "None could open the box. Furthermore, it was decided that was for the best. We did not know if the witch would take our side. We could not give her a reason to."

"What did the Heylin want?" Mozenrath asked.

"From what I understand," the Huntsman replied, "conquest. Much like you."

"Then I could give her a reason to be on our side," Mozenrath resolved.

"By all means," the Huntsman invited.

Mozenrath gripped the puzzle box hard in his right hand; blue light seeped out over it, filling in all its grooves and niches. With a shimmer, the box threw itself open, and from it plumed a cloud of lavender smoke. Within this cloud, miniature flashes of lightning glimmered, accompanied by tiny booms of thunder, and a high-pitched, throaty laugh echoed throughout the hallway.

Mozenrath reverently set the box back in the alcove of the wall. It had served its purpose. It was empty now.

The purple smoke congealed into a blob, roughly the size of Mozenrath's head, with tendrils curling out from it to act as tentacle-esque limbs. The image of a red and white mask with yellow eyes settled in as the ghostly blob's visage. Her cackling ceased, and she looked over Mozenrath, who appeared nothing short of pleased as punch, and the Huntsman, whose expression was unreadable. "So, you've let me out," the incorporeal witch stated. "What are you? Conquerors? Evil-doers? Fellow Heylin?"

"Actually, we're – " Mozenrath began.

The witch gasped. "Something is wrong! Why can I sense no Shen Gong Wu? Where have they all gone? How long have I been in that box? Tell me!"

"You have been in that box for less than a year," the Huntsman informed her. "You sense no Shen Gong Wu because there are none on this world. You were removed from that world and brought into mine for my purposes."

"YOUR purposes?" the witch scoffed. "And what would THAT be?"

"Until now, the hunting and slaying of dragons," the Huntsman informed her. "But recently, our goal has changed."

"To what?" the witch asked haughtily, crossing a pair of tendrils.

"World domination," Mozenrath told her. "Of mine, yours, his, and whatever we can take."

This lightened the witch's mood. "Ohhhhhhh…NOW you have my attention."

"And who knows?" Mozenrath shrugged. "Maybe we'll stop by your world on the way and find some of these…Shen Gong Wu you talked about. What does that term mean, anyway?"

"Shen Gong Wu are magical items of incredible power!" Wuya explained. "We of the Heylin battled the Xiaolin Monks for their possession! We wanted to use them to dominate the world and spread the forces of evil. The Xiaolins preferred to keep them locked away where they were useless. And now, those no-good monks probably have them ALL!"

The Huntsman was hung up on a phrase she'd uttered: "the forces of evil." He'd never considered himself evil. He'd known quite well that people saw him that way, but he was, in his mind, pursuing a noble cause by slaying dragons. He was ridding the world of monsters, the way he saw it. Yet he was contemplating joining forces with one who called herself blatantly evil. She wanted what Mozenrath wanted, and what Mozenrath wanted came with the promise of what the Huntsman wanted. Did Mozenrath consider himself evil? Perhaps there was no harm in associating with evil, the Huntsman thought, though he himself was not sure the label applied in his case. Perhaps it had finally come to the point where "good" and "evil" did not matter anymore: only the pursuing of goals.

"How would you like to form a bit of a business partnership?" Mozenrath asked Wuya.

"With you?" Wuya replied. "I'll need one thing first. Call it a guarantee of bad faith."

"And that would be…?"

Without further warning, Wuya plunged right into Mozenrath's head, her ghostly body phasing right through him. He could feel her aura sliding through his like oil over skin, and he could sense that she was probing his conscious thoughts from where she rested inside his brain. When she emerged, she had everything she needed.

"You…just…" Mozenrath sputtered.

"Looked at your mind to make sure you were what you said you were," Wuya supplied for him. "And you are. Consider me on board. And if nothing else, I color coordinate with the rest of your team."

"Then we'll just finish up taking whatever other magic we can find here," Mozenrath announced, "and – "

The sound of a loud BOOM emanated from the area of the crypt. Mozenrath, Wuya, and the Huntsman weren't alone in the Vault anymore.

"WHAT was that?" Wuya hissed indignantly.

"Whatever it is, it won't interrupt us for long." The Huntsman grasped a weapon from the wall – a huntstaff, of the same make and shape that Mozenrath had seen carved on the door – and turned to barge down the hallway. Mozenrath and Wuya followed, one on foot and the other gliding through the air.

The door to the Vault had been blown to bits by an explosive projectile that had, before its combustion, resembled a skull. The man who'd walked through the hole the bomb had left wasn't just old, but quite undead. His skin was as purple as Yzma's, and he wore a robe of a slightly darker purple, with a cape one shade darker than that and a golden headdress. His frame was quite thin, and his posture hunched over at the shoulders. Somewhat jumpy, he peered around at the Vault. "Helloooooo?" he called out experimentally. "Is anyone home?" Ideally, he would get no answer. This was the first place he'd found in a while that he considered safe.

He was wrong. The Huntsman rushed to greet him brutally with the huntstaff, with Mozenrath and Wuya in tow. "INTRUDER!" the Huntsman roared.

The intruder flinched, ready to bolt…but then he laid eyes on Mozenrath. "What? It's YOU! Mozenrath himself, in the flesh!"

"Stop," Mozenrath commanded the Huntsman.

The Huntsman brought himself to a halt, fixing suspicious eyes on the intruder. Mozenrath took his place between intruder and Huntsman while Wuya hung back. "Why do you seem familiar?" Mozenrath asked the intruder.

"Because I'm from the same parts as you!" the intruder proclaimed. "I would have thought you'd recognize me, Mozenrath!"

"Can't say that I do…" Mozenrath was quite perplexed.

"The name's Ayam Aghoul," the intruder introduced. "Duke of Decay! Monarch of Morbidity! Guru of the Grim!"

"Not ringing any bells…"

"Oh, come now!" Aghoul snapped. "I nearly wed the princess of Agrabah! I nearly trapped Aladdin himself in the Netherworld not once but twice! I very nearly destroyed everyone in Agrabah by entrapping their shadows!"

"I'm hearing a lot of 'nearly,'" Mozenrath pointed out.

"But you!" Aghoul went on. "You've become a hero to us villains of the Seven Deserts! Everyone's heard of your defiance of Maleficent and how you broke free not just of the Netherworld, but of the UNDERWORLD! The public would demand to know where you are if they didn't have bigger problems."

"Bigger problems?" Mozenrath raised a brow.

"Why, don't you know?" Aghoul told him. "The deserts have been thrown into utter chaos, and I don't mean anything to do with that little flying cat thing. Why do you think I'm HERE and not THERE?"

"I think you'd better explain," Mozenrath demanded.

...

"I didn't realize this night would turn out to be THIS much fun!" Mim giggled as she and Roman appeared in the aisles of the drug store Roman had specified.

"This is your idea of…" Roman stopped himself short. "Of course it is."

"It's been YEARS since I've seen hives that brilliantly red!"

Roman just waved her aside, storming up to the pharmaceutical counter. The pharmacist on duty, a monster with white fur and long ears, turned to greet him: "Hello! Can I help you?"

Roman immediately aimed the barrel of the Cudgel at the pharmacist. "Epinephrine," he demanded. "Now."

"I…" The terrified pharmacist stared in shock down the barrel of the gun. "Sir, I'm afraid we…we can't just hand over…"

"DO YOU THINK THIS IS SOME KIND OF JOKE?" Roman shifted the Cudgel a few degrees downward. Earlier, he'd loaded it up with a different sort of dust than his usual explosive mix in order to rob the grocery store. When he fired, a long and jagged icicle crystallized out of the barrel, embedding itself in the pharmacist's leg. The pharmacist cried out in pain, staggering.

"Now hand it over," Roman demanded, "or I aim higher."

"All right…" The pharmacist, as interested in self-preservation as he was in the treatment of others, hobbled over to the shelf where the drug could be found. "Wait, did you say you wanted epinephrine?"

"Was I not CLEAR ENOUGH?"

"Not any of the antidepressants?" the pharmacist went on, baffled. "The sedatives?"

"YOU HEARD WHAT I SAID!"

"You're…only robbing me for epinephrine."

A click emitted from the Cudgel.

"All right, I'm getting it!" the pharmacist shrieked, setting about the task as best he could with one functioning leg.

...

"After you caused all that commotion in the Underworld," Aghoul explained, "Maleficent decided to eliminate any other competition that came out of the woodwork in the Seven Deserts, starting with evil incarnate herself!"

"Mirage," Mozenrath realized.

"And Mirage isn't one to take a challenge lightly!" Aghoul went on. "She rounded up the worst of the worst in all the Seven Deserts, starting with giving me a free pass out of the Netherworld! They were all there…Abis Mal. Mechanicles. Amin Damoola. You'd never seen such an army of bandits, thieves, sorcerers, and rogues assembled in the deserts before!"

"And you lost," Mozenrath supplied.

"I'm getting there!" Aghoul stamped a foot indignantly. "…We lost. Most of them were taken into Maleficent's custody, but I slipped out of her clutches! Since then, I'd been looking for a safe world where I could…plan out my next move!"

"Hide," Mozenrath corrected.

"I wasn't about to hide!" Aghoul put his hands on his hips. "You know what it's like to take her and her henchmen on alone! But now that I've found you, all of that is about to change."

"Because you're about to hide behind ME," Mozenrath suggested.

"If you're going to keep putting words in my mouth…"

"I'm not turning the suggestion down," Mozenrath told him. "After all, I am assembling…somewhat of an army. What can you offer us if you joined us?"

"Why, all sorts of spells!" Aghoul claimed. "You don't spend that much time in the realm of the dead without figuring out a few grisly ways to make others meet that fate, you know! See here?" He waved a hand, bringing a skull into existence in its palm.

"It's a skull," Mozenrath observed. "Your point would be…?"

"Not just any skull," Aghoul boasted. "Watch THIS!"

He lobbed the skull at one side of the mausoleum. It exploded, bringing down several alcoves and shattering the coffins within them to splinters.

"You've just DESTROYED property of the Huntsclan!" the Huntsman roared.

"They were empty," Mozenrath reminded him. "Anyway, that's not bad, not bad at all. Though I do have to wonder. How do I know you're not a spy sent here by Maleficent to bring me down from the inside?"

"Well – "

Mozenrath held up a hand to stop Aghoul. "I don't need you to give me a reason. I just need HER to give me a reason."

Recognizing her cue, Wuya floated around Mozenrath and through Aghoul, causing him to shudder as his thoughts were searched. As Wuya emerged from the back of his head, she announced, "He checks out."

"I'll give you the same offer I gave these two," Mozenrath told Aghoul. "Come with us. Join our move toward conquest. If you do, you can take whatever you want from the spoils, provided you share with the team. Put your skills to good use. We'll see in time whether you match up to our standards. And in return, we'll provide a safehouse from Maleficent. I'm guessing that appeals to you."

"Most certainly," Aghoul confirmed.

"This trip turned out to be more productive than I thought," Mozenrath remarked. "It's time to show you New Home."

He opened up a Corridor, and Aghoul dashed through it eagerly, the Huntsman striding after him.

"You know, your little mind-reading ability is going to come in handy," Mozenrath told Wuya. "So long as you help me, there's only one person who I can never be sure won't betray me."

"And that person is?" Wuya asked.

"You," Mozenrath answered.

"I guess you'll just have to give me good enough reasons not to," Wuya cackled before zooming through the portal.

That was good enough for Mozenrath, who strode through himself before closing the portal behind him.

...

The world came back into view, solidifying as reality. Snatcher blinked. He was rather perplexed. He remembered sitting down to dinner, and now was standing at the head of the table, looking at his three companions. Yzma was tightly gripping a carving fork, Mim looked positively giddy, and Roman was pocketing some sort of medical pen furtively. All of the dishes had somehow ended up on the ground.

"…How did those get there?" Snatcher asked, gesturing to the plates.

"I knocked them off the table," Roman said hastily. "Because Yzma's cooking was disgusting."

"WHAT?" Yzma hissed.

Roman bent down to scoop up the remains of the quesadillas. "Yup. All inedible. Shame, really. You know, this never would have happened if you'd just let me run the oven like I asked."

"There was nothing wrong with my food!" Yzma stomped her heeled foot. "SOMETHING in that recipe caused Snatcher to – "

"Miss out because I saved him from the fate of eating those DISGUSTING quesadillas." Roman dumped the lot in the garbage. "Though you're not completely without room for improvement. We'll talk, Yzma. I'll show you how to do it the RIGHT way."

"But – "

"I said," Roman growled, "we'll talk."

Yzma gave a growl of dissent.

"Also, a carving fork?" Roman shook his head.

"I never even broke skin with it!" Yzma protested.

"What's all this about – " Snatcher tried to ask.

"Never mind." Mim waved her hand dismissively. "You wouldn't get it. Which is really too bad, because we had a LOT of fun with – "

"A stupid in-joke," Roman finished off. "Really, you didn't miss much."

"You're hiding something," Snatcher realized. Deep down, he had an inkling of what it was, but he wasn't about to bring it to light.

"Everyone's got their secrets," Roman countered. "I'm sure you hide things from us, Archie."

Snatcher had nothing to say to that. "Well, then. Have we got a plan in place for a replacement meal?"

"Of course we have." Yzma glowered at Roman. "Roman is about to go out into town and retrieve us something…edible."

"No skin off my nose," he told Yzma. "Everyone up for ramen? I hope so, 'cause you're getting ramen."

That was when the Corridor opened, spilling out not one but four travelers. Yzma, Roman, Mim, and Snatcher regarded Aghoul, the Huntsman, Wuya, and Mozenrath with interest.

"Are we too late for the victory feast?" Mozenrath asked.

"Only the first one!" Mim informed him.

"What do you mean…" Mozenrath replied.

"It doesn't matter," Yzma told him. "I see you've brought guests."

"That I have," Mozenrath explained. "Meet Ayam Aghoul, rogue undead sorcerer of the Seven Deserts; Wuya, the Heylin witch; and…"

"'The Huntsman' will suffice for all of you," the Huntsman grunted.

"And as for all of you…" Mozenrath turned to face his three new companions. "Meet Yzma, our alchemist; Archibald Snatcher, our ruthless diplomat; Roman Torchwick, our gunner and master thief; and Mad Madam Mim, a witch of all trades." He stepped out to face the group at large. "Provided none of you disappoints…I think we might finally have enough of a group put together to actually bring the worlds to their knees."

"We should have some sort of catchy team name," Mim suggested.

"I don't see what use THAT would be," the Huntsman grunted.

"I like the idea, myself!" Aghoul chimed in.

"We don't need a team name," Mozenrath sighed.

"You know," Roman pointed out, "back home, in the various combat schools, they had this tradition of putting together teams of four and arranging the first letters of their names to make a word that sounded like a color. Not sure we could swing the 'color' part, but we might be able to make something out of our initials. We have an R, an A, a Y, an M, another M, an H, another A, and a W…"

"I think our next move should be this." Mozenrath interrupted Roman by bringing out the Codex pages. "These pages went untranslated by the Huntsclan for years. They just might contain something that can give us the upper hand next time around."

"WHAM ARMY!" Roman blurted out.

"…What?" Mozenrath replied.

"When you put our initials together," Roman explained, "you get 'WHAM ARMY.' And you should be glad you got that W in there, or else we'd have ended up being the 'HAM ARMY.'"

"Which, sadly, would have been fitting for this group," Yzma pointed out.

There was a moment of silence before Yzma, Roman, Snatcher, and Mim laughed aloud at this. Wuya and Aghoul, being new to the group, had only their word to go on, but having seen each other in action, they had a feeling the label was accurate. And while the Huntsman was not easily moved to laughter at all, he had to admit this was a little amusing.

Fighting back a grin, Mozenrath resolved, "All right. WHAM ARMY it is."


	4. Peace and Quiet

4\. Peace and Quiet

As Roman stormed into the Hotlands laboratory, the first words out of his mouth were "We need to talk."

Yzma looked up from where she was welding metal together, a heavy mask over her face. She lifted this mask in order to look Roman in the eye. "I'll ask you not to smoke while I'm working," she told him briskly.

"So," Roman began, "since you poisoned the food on your first day – "

"You're blaming ME?" Yzma practically screeched.

"Okay, let me rephrase," Roman sighed. "When I first met Archie, he was trying to convince Hades he shouldn't have been dead because he couldn't have died the way he did. Do you wanna take a guess how he died?"

Yzma just stared dumbfoundedly.

"Milk allergy," Roman clarified. "I'd been wondering which one of them was wrong. And now I know."

"Well, why didn't he say anything?" Yzma asked.

"Because if he's anything like me," Roman told her, "he'd rather die than let anyone know he has a weakness like that. Especially because back where he came from, cheese was some sort of big deal with the government and rich people."

"And what makes you think he's so much like you?"  
"He knows how to work a crowd, he tried to crush an annoying kid with a modified Paladin, and he's an artist with an eyeliner pencil," Roman reminded Yzma. "He's like me."

"And why do you care so much about him, anyway?"

Roman shrugged. "Maybe I like that he's the only other guy I know who I saw in action arguing with death. That takes guts. And maybe, just maybe, this team, unlike my last one, is less of my co-workers and more of my…" He stumbled on the word. "F. Fffff. Frrrrrr…"

"Friends," Yzma supplied.

"That just sounds WEIRD," Roman told her with a shudder. "It's only a theory, by the way. Since we only JUST assembled. But let me just say that this is the first time in a long time I haven't wanted to punch every single member of my team but one in the face."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Yzma looked down to her creation to realize that it was finished; she stripped off her mask and set it off to the side. "There! My weapon is complete!" It had cooled down enough that she could pick it up by the grip, and so she did, displaying an apparatus that looked like a trumpet without the bell.

"So what's that?" Roman asked.

"I based the design on an atlatl," Yzma told him.

"And what's it do?" Roman held up a hand. "No, wait. Don't tell me. It atls atls."

"Ha! Humorous." Yzma plucked a metal arrow – albeit one without fletching – from the table. As she touched it, something clicked, and the arrow extended to the length of a spear as she loaded it into the atlatl. She turned to the wall, flicking her wrist and pressing a button on the atlatl. The projectile within was launched directly into the wall, embedding itself halfway deep. "Perfect," Yzma purred.

"I am NOT fixing that hole in the wall," Roman pointed out.

"Neither am I," Yzma replied. "I suppose we just have a hole in the wall now."

"It is one SWEET weapon, if I do say so myself," Roman complimented. "Soooooo…as far as dinner goes…"

"Dairy is off the menu."

"All I ask."

...

"I don't understand," Aghoul told Wuya as they made their way down to the laboratory. "Why can't Mozenrath just resurrect you?"

"Because I'm not that kind of spirit!" Wuya explained. "I'm not actually dead. That's why I need Yzma and her potions instead."

"You're not DEAD?" Aghoul gaped. "But you're a ghost!"

"Spirit."

"Were you EVER dead?"

"No."

Aghoul folded his arms, giving a huff. "Lucky for you. Do you know how long I've spent trying to claw my way out of the Netherworld?"

"Ohhhhhh, very lucky," Wuya sassed. "Lucky that I got to spend fifteen hundred years inside a puzzle box without even a deck of cards."

"…I'll admit that doesn't sound appetizing," Aghoul relented. "Well, then. You must be grateful Mozenrath came along to let you out."

"Ohhhh, I am," Wuya confirmed. "Especially because he has such a fervor for evil. Hopefully he won't turn out to be as much of a disappointment as the last people to let me out of the box."

"What happened to them?"

"A series of betrayals."

"Pardon," Aghoul asked, "but how can we be sure you won't betray us?"

"You can't," Wuya told him. "You just have to hope nothing better comes along for me."

"Fair enough."

They entered the lab to see Roman and Yzma in conversation. Aghoul and Wuya briefly looked to where the spearlike dart was embedded in the wall before deciding it was better not to ask. "Do you have it?" Wuya asked.

Yzma nodded. "One moment." She opened a nearby refrigerator. She had wanted to present the pink potion in a crystal vial with an elaborate stopper, but as Wuya had to soak in it, she'd been forced to put it in a mixing bowl and cover it unceremoniously with plastic wrap. Setting the bowl on the counter, Yzma unceremoniously uncovered it from the plastic wrap before announcing, "It's all yours."

"YES!" Wuya flitted down to the bowl to lower herself into the potion with a relaxed "Ahhhhhhhhhhhh." Her ghostly form absorbed the potion as she did, and her outline began to glow. When she realized she was transforming, she levitated out of the bowl, hovering over the counter. Her smoke expanded and warped, then solidified and took on new colors. Fully human, she was a woman of average height, with a waterfall of red hair cascading down her back. She was clothed in a gown of black. "MUCH better," she sighed; her voice was now deeper.

If Aghoul's heart still beat, it would have been thumping ferociously. "You didn't let on that you were so…ATTRACTIVE," he gushed. "I don't suppose a woman like you would be in want of a husband, would you?"

"You couldn't handle me and you know it," Wuya told him sternly.

"Oooooh, shot DOWN!" Roman jeered.

Aghoul sighed. "What's a man to do when Maleficent's thrown his other three wives in a dungeon?"

"THREE?" Yzma said in disbelief.

"I don't see you rushing off to rescue them," Wuya pointed out, clambering off the counter.

Aghoul shrugged. "What can she do to them? They're already dead."

"If that's a requirement for being the fourth," Wuya told him, "the answer just went from 'no' to 'heck no.'"

...

The untranslatable pages from the Vault of the Huntsclan had been spread out across the floor of the throne room, resting atop the petals of the myriad golden flowers. Mozenrath arranged stacks of books around them, as well as crystals and all manner of writing utensils. "I have a feeling there's something of interest in these pages," Mozenrath explained to the only other person in the room.

"Perhaps you can discern what we could not," the Huntsman replied.

"I'm going to be devoting my full attention to these pages," Mozenrath went on. "I don't intend to leave this room until I've figured out what they mean."

"Not even to eat or to sleep?"

"I'll take care of that on my own time. In the meantime, I'm going to need absolute peace and quiet. No interruptions. I trust you can pass that message on to the rest of the group."

"Absolutely," the Huntsman vowed. "You shall not be disturbed."

"And one more thing," Mozenrath went on. "Someone's going to need to feed Xerxes and clean out his litter. I'm assigning that task to you. He is, of course, a magical creature, but I'm forbidding you from harming him right now. He's a magical creature I need around."

"And what purpose does he serve, exactly?" the Huntsman asked.

"When I look at him, I'm reminded that no matter how bad things get, at least I'm not him," Mozenrath answered, and the Huntsman wasn't sure if he was joking or not. "I'd better find him alive and well taken care of."

"He will be."

The Huntsman left with a sense of finality, closing the heavy doors upon an already hard at work Mozenrath. The young sorcerer intended to make himself practically dead to the world; to him, the entire multiverse now consisted of these pages and only these pages.

...

Just down the hall from the throne room, Mozenrath had converted one of the small bedrooms into a chamber just for Xerxes alone. It had been outfitted with all the comforts an eel could want, which basically consisted of leaving the human-sized bed in it and adding a self-refreshing water fountain. The Huntsman, well aware that eel feeding time was approaching, eased open the door to this room only to find it occupied by another of the human occupants of the castle. Snatcher, seated upon the bed, idly threw a dog treat into the air for Xerxes to catch.

"I see you've already tended to this creature," the Huntsman observed, casting his gaze about the room. The litter box Mozenrath had mentioned was cleaned out.

"That I have," Snatcher confirmed.

"Good," the Huntsman sighed. "I do not understand the attachment Mozenrath has to this…"

Xerxes flashed the Huntsman a lopsided grin.

"…beast," the Huntsman concluded. "Or, for that matter, your attachment to it."

"Well, I, er…" Snatcher was hesitant to explain before realizing he had more or less nothing to lose by it. "I'd had a pet when I was a much younger man. A rat my parents caught in the middle of the tailor's shop. They were to kill it before I took it into my own hands. I'd like to think I gave that creature the better years of its life. Now, you…I'm to understand you've always been more concerned with the destruction of creatures than their care."

"That is correct," the Huntsman confirmed.

"And to what purpose?"

"It is its own purpose," the Huntsman insisted. "Dragons are a menace that must be eliminated from this and all worlds. It is the sworn duty of the Huntsclan to keep the worlds from falling into disrepair at the hands of such beasts."

"Of course." Snatcher nodded. "I've never known a dragon myself, but I've known my fair share of subhuman creatures. They lack aspiration. They lack will. They lack everything a man has and needs to become truly great."

"You've hunted yourself, haven't you?" the Huntsman realized.

"Trolls," Snatcher confirmed. "Nasty little creatures, but quite useful. The best little builders to be found in my world. For ten years, I collected them in order to put them to work producing machines for my purposes, then I traded their deaths for quite a lot of power. Or I would have, were I not FOILED…" He gritted his teeth momentarily.

"Trolls are generally docile," the Huntsman pointed out. "The smaller variety hardly ever fights back."

"Hardly," Snatcher emphasized. "But apparently, they will change their nature if and when it suits them. And it doesn't help one bit that they had the protection of a boy who didn't know when to keep his nose out of things."

"Now I understand," the Huntsman replied. "The creatures of my world were protected by dragons who could take human form. The American Dragon in particular was not only a constant source of humiliation, but an annoyance as well. Would that these protectors could see that their efforts are futile…"

But he couldn't finish the statement, as Snatcher and the Huntsman were both testaments to the fact that the actions of Eggs and Jake Long weren't in vain after all.

"…I shall leave the eel in your care," the Huntsman decided. "I'd much rather not deal with it if I don't have to."

...

The heart of the castle was connected by a long golden hall with wide arched widows and thick, imposing columns. It was from here that pathways branched off to everyone's quarters. As Yzma, Aghoul, Wuya, and Roman left the lab, they were joined here by Mim, and decided to take a moment to relax.

"I'm not sure how much longer I can take it," Yzma sighed. "Only one dress to speak of, and one pair of shoes! It's practically inhuman to live this way!"

"You're going to make me shoplift frilly dresses for you, aren't you?" Roman sighed.

"And do you have a problem with that?" Yzma snapped.

"Just leave me your measurements," Roman sighed.

"I might have a better way," Wuya suggested. "After all, I currently have no limitations on my power. What clothing do you absolutely dream of?"

"I'm in a bit of a mood for pink," Yzma admitted. "With plenty of sparkle."

"Done." Wuya flicked a hand in Yzma's direction. Yzma was enveloped in bright light, and soon she found herself clothed in a long, shimmering gown of bright pink. A feathered headdress and gem-studded stilettos finished it off.

"How did you DO that?" Yzma gasped in awe, wishing she had a mirror so she could look at how gorgeous she now was.

Wuya chuckled. "You have no idea of the things I can do. I might very well be the most powerful of you all."

"You might well WHAT?" Mim's anger flared up.

"Ohhh, are you about to defend Mozenrath as being more powerful than me?" Wuya jeered.

"No!" Mim asserted. "I'm about to defend MYSELF as being more powerful than you!"

"Well, that's a laugh," Wuya remarked. "They kept on putting me in that puzzle box for a good reason, you know."

"But they were still able to catch you and put you in it," Mim pointed out, arms folded. "They were never able to lay a FINGER on me."

"Shall we put our powers to the test, then, Mim?" Wuya challenged.

"A wizard's duel!" Mim agreed.

"Not here, you won't." The voice came from further down the hall, and the group turned to see the Huntsman and Snatcher approaching. "Mozenrath has required quiet for his work," the Huntsman went on. "If you're about to begin a duel, you won't do it here."

"We'll just have to resolve this later," Wuya decided. "But I look forward to kicking your butt, Madam Mim." She chuckled.

"Well, then, I'm afraid you're just going to have to be disappointed," Mim informed her.

"In the meantime," Yzma asked, "Wuya, COULD you bring in a mirror?"

Wuya merely snapped her fingers, and a full-length mirror appeared where Yzma could admire herself in it. "Hmm…" She thought it over. "It's almost perfect, but the headdress could use some tweaking. Perhaps if it were purple…"

"Easily fixed," Wuya reassured Yzma, flicking a hand and switching out the headdress for an arrangement of lavender feathers.

"Or perhaps blue," Yzma suggested. "A sort of robin's egg color."

Wuya swapped the headdress out as Yzma had wished.

"Perhaps the feathers are the wrong direction," Yzma decided. "Try a pink beret."

As Wuya switched out the headgear yet again, Snatcher groaned, "Will you JUST go back to the pink feathers? Everything else is jarring against that – "

He stopped when he noticed everyone else staring at him. "And what's all this about?" he asked of the group at large.

"How do YOU know so much about women's fashion?" Wuya asked.

"Having to pose as a fashion forward seductress in order to further my goals of deception left me with quite a bit of knowledge in that department," Snatcher explained. "Not to mention growing up the son of the town tailor and dressmaker."

"Seriously, he makes one HOT woman," Roman pointed out.

"Though it's…only for the purposes of deception," Snatcher quickly covered. "The majority of the time, I couldn't care less."

"Why do I get the feeling that's not quite true?" Wuya pressed.

"I am a man among men," Snatcher asserted through gritted teeth. "And if you're implying – "

"It doesn't MATTER!" Yzma broke in. "Wearing dresses for evil schemes, wearing dresses for things that aren't evil schemes, I don't care! And none of us SHOULD care! But if you have an opinion to weigh in on this hat, then OUT WITH IT!"

"It doesn't matter," Snatcher mocked, looking around the group…who all appeared to be largely nonchalant, merely awaiting his answer rather than stringing themselves out from tenterhooks to snap at the first opportunity to mock him. It then occurred to him that he was far away from the jeering judgments of his hometown. Perhaps, just perhaps, here was a place he could risk acknowledging the freedoms he enjoyed with his alternate persona. "Though the matter may be…somewhat of a hobby as well as a tool of deception."

"And the hat?" Yzma pressed.

"The pink feathers were the ONLY proper choice."

Wuya replaced the feathers on Yzma's head, and Yzma had to admit they were indeed the most fitting.

"If anyone else needs an outfit switched," Wuya offered, I'm feeling generous."

Snatcher was then awash with relief, for this seemed to be where the conversation regarding him and women's couture started and ended. Truly, these people were of a different caliber than the ones he had known.

"I never saw the point in all this," Mim sighed. "Why women…" She glanced over at Snatcher. "And, yes, men always see the need to spend all day fussing in front of a mirror. You're not going to catch me in one of those frilly dresses! Or with silly paint all over my face!"

Yzma, Wuya, and Snatcher spoke in unison: "Your loss."

"I prefer to focus on the important things in life," Mim asserted. "Like what methods of cruel and unusual punishment are the most absolute fun!"

"Now, that's something I like to hear!" Aghoul chimed in.

"Or the most entertaining ways to watch people die!" Mim went on. "Or which pestilence is the most destructive, or what should be set on fire, or how to humiliate your enemies…"

"You're a woman after my own heart, Madam Mim," Aghoul replied. "…Say. You wouldn't happen to be…single, would you?"

"He's married," Yzma warned.

"Three times over," Wuya added.

"I'm not interested in being anybody's wife!" Mim insisted. "Though you are MOST flattering. So…what method of slow death is YOUR favorite?"

"Well, when it comes to SLOW deaths, I do enjoy witnessing a good famine," Aghoul told her. "But overall, you can't beat a good iron maiden! Can we get one of those in this castle?"

"We should put in a formal request for a full torture chamber!" Mim cackled.

"That would be useful," Yzma agreed. "Though what this place could really use is a dance hall."

"Why would we need a dance hall?" the Huntsman asked in exasperation.

"To relax and let off steam," Yzma answered.

"Wouldn't do if we didn't have an outlet for our more creative expressions," Snatcher added, falling into line behind Yzma to literally back up her argument to the Huntsman.

"I've only just gotten a human body back," Wuya added, moving next to Snatcher. "It would be a pity if I couldn't put it to its full potential on the dance floor."

The Huntsman turned to Mim and Aghoul. "Surely you two see this as a frivolity."

"Oh, not at all!" Mim asserted. "I think a dance hall sounds highly entertaining!"

"I used to dance in my younger days," Aghoul added. "I was always the unlife of the party! Unlike you, Huntsman."

"We must focus on our goals of conquest," the Huntsman asserted. "A dance hall will only distract us, not further our purpose!"

"Well, you're a real KILLjoy," Aghoul teased.

The Huntsman took two steps forward to pick Aghoul up by the front of his robes; "IS YOUR ENTIRE EXISTENCE TO MAKE PUNS ABOUT DEATH?"

"It's a bit of a specialty," Aghoul argued, nonplussed.

There was a crack of thunder, and the Huntsman felt an agonizing jolt of magic run through both his hands. He immediately dropped Aghoul, shaking off the pain.

"And DON'T pick him up like that again!" Mim huffed.

Aghoul, realizing she'd struck the Huntsman's hands in order to rescue him, gave her a playful bow. "I thank you, my lady!"

Mim curtsied in return.

"You know…" Roman observed. "We've actually already got a pretty good dance hall right here. It just needs a few tweaks. Like, say, better lighting."

"You mean like this?" Wuya cast her magic about the room, and suddenly it was much darker, the light from the windows obscured by heavy tarps; colorful lights and strobes flashed in from every angle.

"Nice!" Roman complimented.

"I don't think this is at ALL a good idea," the Huntsman broke in.

"And how about some tunes?" Roman suggested.

At Wuya's behest, a jaunty tune soon boomed throughout the room. Wuya fired off a proud smirk in Mim's direction.

"Oh, just because you can put up decorations and play music, that suddenly makes you better than me," Mim huffed.

"And what about one of those corny disco balls?" Roman asked.

Much to his delight, Wuya soon had a reflective sphere spinning from the ceiling.

"If we're going to dance," Yzma began.

"Which we most certainly are NOT," the Huntsman growled.

"I'll need this gown to be more suited for it," Yzma concluded.

With another smug look at Mim, Wuya shortened up Yzma's skirt a bit and lowered her heels so that she wouldn't trip in the middle of her dance. "I can make your clothes more suitable for this, too," Wuya offered Mim.

"My clothes are just fine for dancing," Mim insisted.

"Suit yourself. And so will I." Wuya switched her black gown out for a silver number edged in fringe and sprayed with sequins.

"Regarding our recent conversation," Snatcher broke in, "Miss Wuya…if you WOULD be so kind, I might…"

"I think I have an idea." Wuya winked before sending a current of magic to envelop Snatcher. When it abated, it left him clothed in a flattering gown of soft blues and purples that intertwined, with puffed sleeves off the shoulders and a skirt that flowed from just under the knee in front to below the ankle behind; this was offset with a coiffed red wig, an expertly painted frieze of makeup, and shoes that were only slightly shorter in heel than Yzma.

"Why, thank you, darling," Snatcher told Yzma in his more effeminate voice.

"I demand you stop this all this INSTANT!" the Huntsman roared. "No doubt Mozenrath has heard the music by now! He gave express instructions NOT to be interrupted!"

"Stop being such a stiff!" Aghoul laughed as he took Mim's hand and twirled her onto the dance floor, beginning a fast-paced step.

"AND NO MORE OF THOSE PUNS!" the Huntsman bellowed.

...

Mozenrath believed he had cracked the first cypher on the pages. The language in them was more than just in archaic language; it was in code. Finally, he was starting to put together letter substitutions that made absolute sense.

That was when the bass line kicked in.

Mozenrath made a point to ignore it, setting an inked quill to a blank page to copy down the translation he'd just made. However, the more he wrote, the louder the music emanating from down below seemed to become.

His quill scratched against the page, leaving an unintended mark.

At last, he could stand it no longer. He threw down the quill, leaving an ink stain on the petals of one of the flowers. He stormed across the room to throw open the doors. He thought about teleporting, but figured his anger would show much more clearly if he stormed in on foot.

The scene he stormed in on left him speechless. The strobe lights ricocheted off the disco ball almost violently, throwing light around the otherwise dark hall that had once been known as Judgment Hall. The music, which was coming from absolutely nowhere, was loud enough that Mozenrath felt his own body vibrate with the beat. The room was divided in half. At one end, Mim and Aghoul clapped to the beat, cheering on Roman Torchwick. At the other, Yzma and Wuya clapped even harder, letting out whoops and hollers in support of Snatcher. As for Roman and Snatcher, they had engaged in a heated battle where the aim of each was to utterly out-dance the other. While Roman's moves were packed with energy, Snatcher moved with a graceful flow.

"You'll have to be faster than THAT to catch up with me, Monsieur Torchwick!" Snatcher taunted in his best feminine voice.

"Just give it up already, Frou Frou!" Roman called out to him. "You're losing, and you know it!"

"Will you BOTH STOP THIS MADNESS?" the Huntsman bellowed. "ALL YOU'VE DONE IS GET LOUDER AND MORE DISTRACTING! AND IT'S ONLY A MATTER OF TIME BEFORE YOU CATCH THE ATTENTION OF – "

Mozenrath cleared his throat loudly.

"MOZENRATH!" The Huntsman flinched. Roman and Snatcher halted midstep. Mim, Aghoul, Yzma, and Wuya had time for one last clap.

"WHAT." Mozenrath began. "ARE YOU – "

"WE CAN'T HEAR YOU!" Yzma yelled over the music.

"GET RID OF THAT NOISE!" Mozenrath demanded.

Wuya snapped her fingers, and the room was bathed in silence. The strobes went down; the natural light went back up.

"I believe I asked for peace and quiet," Mozenrath said calmly. Then his tone escalated: "Does this…seem like peace and quiet…TO YOU?"

"I've seen worse," Mim said offhandedly.

"I tried to stop them!" the Huntsman protested. "They wouldn't listen to me! I would have used something stronger than words but for the fact that I know you wanted them all alive at the end of the day."

"Tough talk," Wuya interjected. "You really think you could take on a witch at full power?"

"I've taken on FAR more magical things than YOU!" the Huntsman snapped.

"And I think you're bluffing," Wuya said coolly.

"Your dance party is OVER," Mozenrath stated. "If you all want to remain part of this operation, you will move OUT OF THIS HALL as soon as possible. And I expect NOT TO BE BOTHERED AGAIN."

"Come now, Mozenrath, don't be such a stiff about it!" Aghoul cajoled.

"You already used that one," Yzma pointed out.

"Don't you want to have a little FUN?" Aghoul continued.

"What I WANT," Mozenrath spelled out, "is to figure out the secret of those pages. Which, incidentally, is fun for me. Now get…out…of this hall."

"Party pooper," Wuya muttered under her breath as she turned to lead the way out of the hall.

As Mozenrath turned to head back to the throne room, Aghoul called after him, "I don't suppose now would be a good time to put in a bid for a torture room, would it?"

The glare Mozenrath shot him could have melted ice.

"Later, then," Aghoul resolved as he followed the motley group outside.

...

Down in the streets outside the castle, the Huntsman had set up several cloth and canvas dummies he'd been able to round up throughout the city. The previous occupants seemed to have been very fond of them. "The least we can do is put our skills to practical use," the Huntsman explained, arranging the dummies in groups. "We shall each practice using our own weapon or magical skill against them."

"Erm…Miss Wuya," Snatcher said in a hushed tone, "if you could provide a somewhat more…battle appropriate ensemble…"

"One of these days," Wuya told him, "you'll have to learn to dress yourself." Still, she put him back in the clothing he'd been wearing before she'd supplied the elaborate gown for their dance. While she was at it, she gave Yzma a striking purple pantsuit.

"This is absolutely perfect!" Yzma remarked as she twirled around in the new suit.

"You're welcome," Wuya replied with a smirk.

"Enough foolishness!" the Huntsman barked. "Get in line!"

He pointed his huntstaff, and Yzma, Wuya, Mim, Aghoul, Roman, and Snatcher fell into an orderly line, weapons brandished.

"On your mark," the Huntsman announced. "And…BEGIN." He turned and spun at a group of dummies, slashing their heads off.

Aghoul threw a skull-shaped bomb that he'd produced from nowhere, obliterating his targets entirely. Yzma reloaded dart after dart into her modified atlatl, spearing dummies through where their hearts would have been. Roman fired a few explosive blasts in the regular way before switching to trick shots, hooking a blast on the end of the Cudgel and sliding it behind his back before letting the energy fly. Snatcher efficiently fired bolt after bolt of lightning at the dummies, singing them all.

Mim shifted into the form of an eagle, swooping in from above to rip off the head of a dummy. Nearby, Wuya, seeing this, kicked a dummy down before catching it in a headlock and ripping off its canvas head. Mim transformed into a leopard, scratching out a dummy's chest. Wuya spin kicked a dummy into the air before blasting it with regular fireworks of magic.

"So you still think you're so great," Mim hissed – quite literally, as she'd taken on the form of a python and compressed another dummy.

"As a matter of fact, I do," Wuya confirmed, enveloping a dummy in an energy cage that collapsed in on it. "Why is it taking you so long to get the picture that I'm better than you?"

"BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT!" Mim, in the form of a water buffalo, impaled a dummy on her horns before launching it right at Wuya.

Wuya caught the dummy with magic in midair, turning it around and throwing it right back at Mim. Mim reverted to human form, pointing at the dummy; it combusted from the inside out before it could reach her.

"I believe we discussed a duel earlier," Wuya said stonily.

"It's the only way to settle this!" Mim stated with a nod.

Yzma lowered her weapon first. "What ARE they doing?"

"It looks like we're in for a show," Aghoul answered.

"It's technically still practice," Roman told the Huntsman, knowing already what he was thinking.

"All right," the Huntsman sighed. "I'll allow it."

"Last I checked, you weren't in charge of us anyway," Snatcher reminded him. "All you did was organize our current activity."

Wuya and Mim were arranging their duel up ahead, in the scrapped remains of destroyed dummies. "First, we have to set limitations," Mim announced. "Make the rules."

"Where's the fun in that?" Wuya asked. "I say no limits."

"You know what?" Mim replied. "I like the way you think! …For once. We'll pace it out on ten."

"That sounds fair," Wuya agreed.

The two women went back to back. "One!" they counted, each taking a step forward. "Two!"

At that moment, they both spun around and threw heavy blasts of energy at each other, each woman hoping to get the jump on her opponent. The two magics collided and exploded in a fiery column.

"This is already good!" Roman laughed.

Mim spun back out of the fray, twirling to a halt to get a look across the square. Wuya flipped through the air, landing on one foot before staring Mim directly in the eye. The Heylin witch extended a hand, curling her fingers in a beckon.

"OHHHHH, YOU ASKED FOR IT!" Mim transformed into a rhinoceros, charging Wuya full speed. Wuya waited until the last minute to make another gravity-defying leap, this time landing so hard that her foot displaced several stones in the road. Mim went crashing right into the lower level of a nearby building, putting a large hole in the wall.

Wuya spun to face Mim, telekinetically lifting three intact dummies and launching them at the other witch. With a flick of the hand, Mim summoned a broomstick from nowhere, leaping upon it to fly around the path of each dummy. Balancing on the stick by the soles of her feet, she flew directly toward Wuya, fingers sparking with magic.

Wuya teleported out of Mim's way, reappearing at the far end of the square, where she raised her hands out over the cobblestone. Meanwhile, Mim's next shot of magic went wild, and another wall fell victim to her damage. Wuya summoned up two golems of stone from the street itself, creating two sizeable potholes in the process. The golems rushed Mim only to find themselves running at a dragon rather than a human sorceress. Mim spun around once, her tail smashing into both golems and sending their bits flying, pockmarking every wall.

Yzma, Aghoul, Snatcher, Roman, and the Huntsman had by this time run for cover, taking refuge inside a nearby shop.

"You realize this isn't safe," Yzma pointed out.

"NOWHERE'S safe!" Roman reminded her.

"At least it's the next best thing to front row seats!" Aghoul gestured out the window to where a clear view was to be had of the battle. As he did so, a large rock, the forearm of one of the golems, came crashing through the window, and if Snatcher hadn't quickly forced Roman to the floor, the airborne stone would have left a bloody mess where the gunner's head had been.

The dragon was a large target, and so Wuya resorted to the strategy of throwing lightning bolts. Mim responded in kind by transforming into a housecat, easily able to dodge each bolt as she rushed toward Wuya. When she reached her destination, Mim enlarged into a panther, lunging. Wuya sidestepped her with incredible grace. As soon as Mim hit the ground, Wuya clapped her hands, and a ring of green flame flickered into being around the magenta cat. Mim reverted to human form then, reaching right out to pluck the flames with her bare hands, turning to lob them at Wuya like baseballs. Wuya stamped the ground, and the stone rocketed up into a protective wall in front of her; the flames bounced right off. Mim, seeing an opportunity, took the form of the rhinoceros once more, barreling right through the stone and smashing it. Wuya was no longer there. The Heylin witch watched from atop a skyscraper, awaiting her time to strike. Once Mim was in the shadow of the skyscraper, Wuya sent the whole building toppling down.

"Eh…?" Mim looked up in shock to see tons and tons of stone headed directly downward to her location.

As the massive building hit the street with enough force to shake the ground, Yzma sighed. "There goes Mim. Pity. I was growing attached to her."

"Aww, she was fun!" Roman moaned.

"Who else can I find around here to properly appreciate a good old-fashioned iron maiden?" Aghoul groaned.

"I don't believe she's down for the count just yet…" Snatcher theorized.

Wuya glided down to the pile of debris, smirking to herself. "I know you're smarter than that," she called out.

"And you'd be RIGHT!" Mim laughed, transforming from a flying beetle back to her human form across the square.

"SHE'S ALIVE!" Aghoul cried in joy.

Gritting her teeth, Wuya gathered up as much magic as she could muster, running toward Mim at high speed. Mim had the same idea, rushing Wuya with both hands full of energy. Halfway toward each other, they got ready to launch.

They came to an abrupt halt when Mozenrath appeared directly between the two of them, holding his hands out, palms up, to each. If his glare before was killer, now it was downright serial murderous. "What part," he seethed, "of PEACE AND QUIET…DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?"

Wuya and Mim immediately disposed of their charged-up magic…by throwing it aside, knocking a smaller building to the ground.

"Not to mention that you're DESTROYING MY ONLY KINGDOM!" Mozenrath yelled.

As Yzma, Aghoul, Snatcher, Roman, and the Huntsman crept out of hiding, Mozenrath pointed at the Huntsman. "I suppose YOU'RE going to claim you tried to stop this too!"

"Actually, the entire target practice setup was his idea," Snatcher snitched. "Not to mention he endorsed this duel as a…test of skill."

"I did not realize – " the Huntsman sputtered.

"Get…out…of New Home," Mozenrath growled. "I don't care where you go. For all I care, you can go to Snowdin and have a snowball fight. But until I am finished with these pages, I don't want to hear one more crash, thunderclap, or inappropriately timed musical number out of ANY OF YOU! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

"Understood," the other seven grumbled in unison.

Gritting his teeth so hard he almost worried for them cracking, Mozenrath returned to the throne room in a flash of blue.

Wuya looked guiltily to Mim. "You really WERE impressive," she admitted.

"And you really showed your stuff!" Mim replied cheerily. "Maybe you ARE all that."

"I shouldn't have underestimated you either," Wuya admitted. "This looks like the beginning of a BEAUTIFULLY evil partnership!"

Then the entire group finally got moving as Mozenrath had ordered, hoping to avoid any further rage from him.

...

Finally, Mozenrath was able to spend hours in peace and quiet. He rushed from this book to that, peering at letters through prisms, holding papers up to mirrors and transcribing his findings onto a new page. With every iteration, the words seemed to become that much clearer, until at long last, Mozenrath realized he was writing a paragraph that made absolute sense. He kept going, and the entire translation came down on the page coherently. Finally, he could see its secrets! And what a secret those pages had held! As he read it over, he could hardly believe what he'd discovered.

It had to be shared immediately. But first, he had to figure out where his overly excitable faction had gone.

It took him a couple teleportations, but eventually, he appeared in Snowdin Town, a rather small settlement with sparse buildings where for whatever reason, there always seemed to be a fresh layer of snow on the ground. There, he was able to spot Roman and Snatcher right away; they were busy packing snowballs and stacking them up from behind a massive wall of the white precipitation.

"I've finally translated the pages!" Mozenrath announced. "And you won't believe…what's…" It dawned on him. "You're…actually having a snowball fight, aren't you?"

"It's not a SNOWBALL FIGHT," Roman groaned.

"It's a tactical battle simulation," Snatcher clarified. "Upon your suggestion, we realized this was perhaps the best way to test our skills of athleticism and deception with minimal risk of gravely harming one another."

"It's a snowball fight," Mozenrath reiterated.

"Auuugh, so what if it is?" Roman moaned. "You're standing in the middle of Fort RedHatBlackHat. If anything, you're the enemy. We could have blasted you five times over by now. You would be DEAD."

"You realize you're in range of each other," Mozenrath pointed out.

"We've forged an alliance," Snatcher explained. "Turning on one another would be bad form. Miss Wuya already got the jump on Mr. Aghoul by claiming she was on his side and waiting for his back to turn."

"But then we got the jump on HER by cornering her from BOTH sides," Roman recalled with a chuckle. "A snowball fight full of magic users, and we haven't died ONCE."

"That's the other rule," Snatcher quickly explained. "A hit from a snowball equates to one from an actual weapon. Taking snow to the leg is tantamount to losing it. Taking one to the vitals is equivalent to dying. Once you've died, you simply start fresh. The Huntsman, as we speak, is alive, but reduced to one leg."

"He agreed to this?" Mozenrath was skeptical.

"It's a tactical battle simulation!" Roman reminded Mozenrath. "Of course he agreed to it! I think he wanted an excuse to hit us all with something anyway!"

"IT'S A SNOWBALL FIGHT!" Mozenrath repeated.

"Anyhow, what were you saying about those pages?" Snatcher asked Mozenrath.

"Well…" Mozenrath began to explain.

At that moment, as the three were distracted, the other five mobilized, having forged a temporary alliance to bring down Fort RedHatBlackHat. Wuya took her place on a rooftop next to Mim, looking down from above. Yzma and the Huntsman hid around the corner. Aghoul had covered himself with snow as strategic camouflage. All five pairs of eyes widened when they saw a much more tempting target – Mozenrath himself – appear in the midst of the "fort."

"We shouldn't," the Huntsman cautioned Yzma.

"But we will," Yzma whispered back.

All readied their snow to open fire upon Mozenrath.

"The pages were encrypted incredibly well," Mozenrath explained. "I have to admit that a bit of it was just pure luck. But I found out what they hold. And it just so happens to be a spell that would allow us to become masters of – "

At the exact moment that Wuya and Mim leapt down to ground level, Yzma and the Huntsman revealed themselves, and Aghoul rolled out of his camouflage, Mozenrath turned around and waved his gauntlet so that a veritable tidal wave of snow rose up and collapsed on all five of them. Once it settled, their stunned heads popped out of the snowbank one by one. Mozenrath let loose laughing at the sight.

"I suppose this is why he's our leader," Yzma sighed.

Without turning back around to look at the remaining duo, Mozenrath flicked his wrist. Roman and Snatcher had each picked up snowballs, but dropped them immediately once the snow had swirled up around them to cover them both up to the neck.

"Now that I have your attention," Mozenrath went on, "I believe I've discovered the key to our domination of the entire multiverse!"


	5. The Happiest Place in the Multiverse

5\. The Happiest Place in the Multiverse

"Whoso rules the Heart of All Worlds rules all worlds and all hearts. One may be as a god and bend the many worlds to one's will by dominating the twelve great elements of existence. Gather together these things: fire and water, earth and air, life and death, time and space, light and darkness, aether and entropy. Bring them all together in their greatest concentration and use them to take hold of the elements themselves. Only by asserting dominance over these twelve can you hold the heart of all worlds in the palm of your hand. Then you will become king of all, and all who live and all who will live shall answer to you and you alone."

Mozenrath paused after reading the passage aloud, looking around the throne room at his seven cohorts for reactions.

The first to speak was Yzma: "I was expecting it to rhyme."

"In its original language, it probably did," Mozenrath explained. "I had to translate it several times over, after all."

"So all we have to do," Roman recapitulated, "is bring together that stuff, and we become overlords of the multiverse?"

"It won't be as easy as mixing a cup of water with a pile of dirt," Mozenrath pointed out. "The spell calls for the twelve elements in their greatest concentration. The only way to make this work is to obtain magical artifacts of great power that represent these twelve elements. Then, we will rule the Heart of All Worlds itself."

"You expect us to believe that the spell for taking over all of existence was just lying around in some vault, and easily translated within a matter of hours?" Wuya asked skeptically.

"First of all, it wasn't that easy to translate," Mozenrath reminded her. "Were the task attempted by someone less intelligent, I doubt they would have figured it out. Second, even if this spell were translated, gathering twelve artifacts that represent those elements and were powerful enough to actually affect the Heart of All Worlds would be incredibly difficult. As of right now, I can only think of one, and it's no picnic to just walk in and get. And third…it may be a dud spell, but we won't know that until we try it, now, will we?"

"He's got a point," Roman agreed. "Might as well. I mean, it beats what most of us were doing before."

Thinking back, they all realized Mim was the only one who was all that well off before Mozenrath had assembled the eight into a group, but she was having too much fun to leave for anything better.

"So you can think of one artifact," the Huntsman reiterated.

"That I can," Mozenrath affirmed. "It will be well guarded, but I happen to know of something that isn't just a powerful beacon of light. It's a pure concentrated source of Light magic that protects an entire kingdom." He paused then.

"Well?" Yzma urged.

"I believe Lord Mozenrath was pausing for dramatical effect," Snatcher observed.

"To obtain the element of light," Mozenrath revealed, "we're going to need the Cornerstone of Light."

...

Disney Town was a candy-coated metropolis of lopsided buildings and whimsical architectural choices; many a clock around town was seen with white gloved hands pointing out the time, and rows of multicolored flags ran from roof to roof. At the heart of it rose Disney Castle: a sprawling fortress of blue and white, towering up to scrape the sky.

Mozenrath, Yzma, Mim, Aghoul, Roman, Snatcher, the Huntsman, and Wuya stood at the very edge of town, gazing up at the castle's summit. "Inside that castle is the Cornerstone of Light," Mozenrath announced. "Whatever happens, be prepared to fight. The inhabitants of that castle are going to be ready to protect that stone to the death, and the stone itself has a weakening effect on Dark magic like ours."

"I believe we are more than ready," Snatcher informed him.

"Then let's go," Mozenrath commanded.

The eight walked in line toward the border of Disney Town. The moment they hit the city limits, it was as if Mozenrath, Mim, Wuya, and Aghoul had slammed right into an invisible wall; they lost balance and fell over backward while Roman, Snatcher, the Huntsman and Yzma watched.

"Don't – " Mozenrath started to say from the ground.

He was too late. Roman was already shaking with suppressed laughter, which quickly became out-loud laughter. As the four who'd fallen picked themselves up off the ground, Yzma began fighting her own convulsions of humor.

"All right, you had a good laugh," Mozenrath muttered. "It's not THAT funny."

He locked eyes with Snatcher. Snatcher, who'd been attempting to keep his composure, let out a snort. He had to turn away and hide his chuckle in his sleeve.

"It isn't humorous at all," the Huntsman grunted. "This could present us with a serious obstacle."

Mozenrath put out his right hand. He could definitely feel some sort of impasse, even though from where he was standing, it looked like thin air he should have been able to pass right through. Mim, Wuya, and Aghoul were feeling the barrier as well, and from the placement of their hands, one could almost see a wall taking shape.

"It's only those who carry magic inherent in their auras who can't pass through," the Huntsman observed.

"Didn't you say something about the Cornerstone of Light and Dark magic?" Yzma brought up.

"It mustn't just weaken Dark magic," Mozenrath realized. "It also keeps it out of the city." He very nearly cursed.

"Couldn't you just take that gauntlet off and walk through?" Aghoul asked.

"That is NOT an option," Mozenrath growled. "And even if it was, it would still leave us unable to use magic to transport the Cornerstone. We have to find another way in. Some way to circumvent the barrier. In the meantime…those of us without magic can still reach the castle."

"We may still be able to fight our way to the stone," the Huntsman volunteered.

Mozenrath shook his head. "We're going to operate with a new plan. While the four of us who have magic figure out a way around this barrier, the four of us who don't are going to scout ahead. They don't know us on this world, so just like in the Kingdom of the Sun or Arthur's kingdom, you can talk your way into the gates. Find out where the Cornerstone is hidden. That will make it easier for us to get to when we come back. Until then, we can keep in touch by scroll."

"I still think Spicer called them 'phones,'" Wuya corrected.

"And I think you've never even USED a scroll," Roman taunted, removing his phone – that is to say, scroll – from his pocket and waving it in Wuya's face.

"Wait a moment," Yzma realized. "I may have a solution that could circumvent all of our problems."

"Go on," Mozenrath encouraged.

"The Huntsman has containers that resist magic, do they not?" Yzma recalled.

"Yes," the Huntsman confirmed, "but they are only large enough to carry around on my person. The Cornerstone of Light is enormous."

"I have a recipe for a potion that could shrink it," Yzma stated. "It will take time to brew, but it will only involve alchemy. No Dark magic whatsoever. Go and make it. When you come back, hand it off to one of us at the border, and we will shrink the Cornerstone and have the Huntsman carry it out in his pocket!"

"It's almost too simple," Mozenrath remarked.

"And not very much fun," Mim pouted.

"But it will get us what we want fairly easily," Mozenrath insisted. "We can have more fun when we gather the other components of the spell. For now, let's focus on what we know will work."

"Grave tidings again?" Roman asked Snatcher.

"I was thinking a trade agreement," Snatcher corrected. "We are from a nation that specializes in something this kingdom lacks."

"Subtletly," Yzma suggested, taking a look around at the architecture.

"Or Dust," Snatcher countered. "They've none of that here."

"I like the way you think," Roman commented.

"Then it's settled," Mozenrath decided. "Mim, Wuya, Aghoul, and I will see about this shrinking potion. The rest of you…find out what you can."

The two groups parted ways.

...

To Yzma, the Huntsman, Roman, and Snatcher, Disney Town only got worse on the eyes the further they went in. Furthermore, all of its citizens were ridiculously cheery.

"This place is too happy," Yzma whispered.

"We are in complete agreement on that point," the Huntsman whispered back.

After what seemed like far too long meandering around garish gables and flapping banners, the quartet at last reached the towering doors of Disney Castle, which stretched far, far overhead.

Snatcher assumed the lead, raising a fist to knock firmly upon the door thrice. He was taken aback when a smaller door, just about his height, opened up within the massive doorway. It turned out the larger doors were just for show.

"Pardon the intrusion," Snatcher told the opener of the door, "but…" He trailed off when he saw that he was speaking to an animated broomstick with arms, walking on split halves of its tuft like stubby legs. The broom didn't care that Snatcher didn't finish his sentence, waving him inside with one spindly arm. Gingerly, Snatcher followed. Yzma and Roman gave each other a dramatic shrug before entering themselves, and the Huntsman brought up the rear, on guard. While it was highly unlikely they'd be attacked from behind in this scenario, it always paid to be careful in his line of work.

The broom wandered through many halls, past other brooms that were busy cleaning out the hallways. Snatcher supposed that if any inanimate object were going to be in charge of maintenance, there was no better choice than a broom. The path ended at a cavernous white throne room. The pristine white was broken up by an enormous red banner on the far wall, bearing the Disney Town crest: three black circles arranged in the vague silhouette of a mouse's head. A pink carpet led up to a blue raised platform on the floor, and upon this platform rested a golden throne. Snatcher might have called the three beings arranged on and around the throne the strangest he'd seen all day if not for the broomsticks. To the left, an anthropomorphic duck donned wizard's robes and a pointed hat. To the right, a tall anthropomorphic dog wore the garb of a knight. And on the throne itself was the king: an anthropomorphic mouse clad in a red suit that looked more like activewear than regal robes.

"Well, hey there, fellas!" King Mickey Mouse greeted with a wave, hopping up off the throne to approach the quartet. "What brings ya here?"

It took Yzma, Roman, the Huntsman, and Snatcher more than a moment to fully process what was happening. The Huntsman was already sizing up these creatures, trying to guess how easy they would be to slay…but he knew Mozenrath would want him to keep a low profile for the time being, not to mention that as the rulers of this strange nation, they would likely be far more powerful than they looked, especially if the duck had as much magic as his clothing suggested.

Snatcher found his voice at last. "Your Majesty," he began, "we have come here from across great distances, from a kingdom to the East – "

"Hang on," Mickey realized. "You're from another world, aren't ya?"

That stopped Snatcher in his verbal tracks.

"It's all right!" Mickey reassured him. "We know all about the worlds out there! Ya don't have to hide it from us if you're not from around here! I just don't remember any people like you bein' on my world."

"…As a matter of fact, we are from another world," Snatcher replied. "'To the East' is somewhat of an understatement. Not many of the common folk would understand, after all."

"I'm hoping one day, we all will," Mickey said with a nod. "So what world are you guys from?"

Snatcher faltered here. He hadn't expected this question. He had to come up with the perfect lie…

And Roman beat him to it. "You heard of Remnant?" the gunner asked.

Mickey shook his head. "Can't say that I have." He turned back to his mage and knight. "Fellas?"

"Nope!" Royal Knight Goofy shook his head.

"Not me!" Court Mage Donald Duck added.

Mickey turned back to his guests, shaking his head. "Guess none of us have ever been there."

"Well, that's where we're from," Roman insisted, and his three cohorts backed him up with nods of varying intensity.

"So, fellas," Mickey asked warmly, "what brings you here all the way from Remnant?"

"The hopes of forging a trade agreement with your kingdom!" Snatcher announced.

"A cross-world trade agreement?" Mickey reiterated. "I don't think that's ever been done before!"

"Well, our world has something to offer that can be found on no other," Snatcher asserted.

Roman removed a red Dust crystal from his pocket, holding it up in front of the royal trio. As Donald fixed his eyes upon it, Roman could actually see the reflection of the crystal replacing the duck's pupils, and a faint "cha-ching" sound emanated from his direction. "A ruby!" Donald identified.

"But don't all worlds have rubies?" Goofy wondered out loud.

"Some more annoying than others," Roman sighed. "But THIS is not a ruby. THIS is Dust. While your average gem just sparkles, this kind is magic."

"Can ya show us what it does?" Goofy asked.

"Not if you want to keep all the walls in this building intact," Roman told him. "Red ones explode. The green stuff makes tornadoes. You've got water, lightning, ice, steam, earth…the possibilities are endless."

"Hmmm…" Mickey eyed the Dust suspiciously. The refusal to demonstrate it didn't sit well with him, and he wanted to make sure he wasn't being conned. A plan to figure out if these four were telling the truth about the nature of Dust at least was formulating in his mind. "That sounds real interesting! Why don't we talk about it more over tea?"

"That would be lovely!" Yzma replied.

"Donald, Goofy," Mickey asked, "why don't you take our guests out to the garden and set up a tea table? I'll be there to join ya in a minute!"

"We're on it!" Donald promised.

As soon as he could, Mickey slipped off. He had a database to check about this world called "Remnant."

...

Yzma, Snatcher, Roman, and the Huntsman were led to the garden, where shrubbery trimmed in the shape of miniature castles and other landmarks formed a miniature labyrinth. The duck and dog set up a small white table for them all to have tea around, bringing out many chairs and a tea set brimming with the burning beverage. In the process, they set the chairs on each other's feet at least three times, and Goofy accidentally spilled a large amount of the tea down the front of Donald's robes, inciting a temper tantrum from the duck. The quartet of guests watched this scene unfold with minimal amusement. Soon, they were arranged around the table, and Donald had assumed control of the teapot, using magic to levitate it and pour out just the right amount of tea into everyone's cups.

"Why, thank you, Donald," Yzma said as she took hold of her cup. Then she faked a dramatic gasp: "I've JUST remembered! I…needed to use the little girls' room."

"But we don't have any little girls around here," Goofy replied. "Minnie and Daisy are all grown up!"

"She means the bathroom, ya palooka!" Donald thwacked Goofy on the back of the head with an ornate wizard's staff. Turning to Yzma, he offered, "I'll help ya find it!"

"Ohhhh, really, that's all right," Yzma told him. "Just…tell me where it is, and I'll manage."

Donald pointed to a door leading out of the garden and back into the castle. "Take a right, then the third door on the left! It's got a sign on it! Ya can't miss it!"

"I will be RIGHT back!" Yzma dashed toward the door Donald had indicated. Snatcher, Roman, and the Huntsman watched her leave with a sense of satisfaction, knowing full well she wasn't headed for the restroom.

"So," Goofy asked, "what're things like in this Remnant?"

"It's a long and sad story," Roman informed him. He'd decided it would be best to tell a modified version of the truth. "We left for a reason, you know."

"We've got time for a long story," Goofy replied. "Though I'm real sorry it's a sad one."

"You have no idea," Roman told Goofy with fake glumness. "Everyone thought the four kingdoms of Remnant were supposed to live in peace and harmony. Boy, were we ever wrong. See, it all started about a year ago. The biggest thing anyone had to worry about were a few isolated Dust thefts by some…ruthless vagabond."

Surgically omitting any mention of him being a master criminal or instigator of fear, Roman began to relate the history of the past year of Remnant.

...

Yzma slunk stealthily down the hall, pressing herself up against the wall and peeking around every corner before darting to hide behind the nearest convenient vase or suit of armor. She didn't know exactly where to find it, but she knew what she was seeking: a repository of books. Somewhere in a castle this large, there would be a history book or two that talked about the Cornerstone of Light and dropped hints as to its whereabouts.

She flickered past a door just as she heard a high-pitched voice behind it: "Mickey! What are you doing?"

As Yzma prepared to make the dash to the next hiding place – behind a column that looked of Greek make – she heard King Mickey's voice respond: "I was just about to look up a world called 'Remnant' in the Datascape. It should tell me everything I need to know!"

Yzma stopped short. This sounded important. How could this king, who'd never heard of Remnant until a few precious minutes ago, have a way to research it?

"I thought the Datascape could only tell you about worlds Sora, Donald, and Goofy had been to," the other voice, belonging to Queen Minnie Mouse, went on.

"Actually," Mickey told his wife as he settled down to his colorful computer, "it turns out the journals were just a gateway into something a lot bigger. The Datascape has information on all the worlds out there! I think that's why Maleficent must've wanted it so bad!"

Yzma's jaw dropped.

"Now, let's see here…ah, here we go! Remnant!" Mickey scanned the screen. "It looks like this world only has four kingdoms on it. The people there have their own special powers to protect them. "Semblances"! And whaddaya know! The entire world is powered by Dust! It comes in crystals that give it powers like magic! So they WEREN'T lying! About the fact that Remnant has Dust, anyway."

"Remember to hide the Datascape so that no one can take it from you," Minnie warned. "Especially if strangers are around here."

"You're right." Mickey nodded as he ejected the Datascape disc from the computer, locking the screen so that one needed a passcode to activate it. "Our guests seem nice, but you never know!"

Yzma heard the shuffling of Mickey's feet over the floor; he was headed toward the door. By the time he opened it, Yzma was thoroughly hidden behind the column.

Taking a look up and down the hall, Mickey decided it was safe to proceed. He set a course for the Datascape's hiding place, unaware Yzma was following him.

...

"And then," Roman continued relating, "just when Goldilocks earned the right to rest on her laurels…with NO warning, she turned and punched Black right in the ankle. Shattered the leg completely."

Goofy gasped.

"NO!" Donald cried.

"It gets better," Roman assured them. "See, we all THOUGHT we saw Black's leg get crunched. But more on that later. At the time, we just wanted to see Goldilocks pay for her crimes…"

...

From within a suit of armor, Yzma watched Mickey enter a pair of brown doors with a red-orange gemstone set over top. She waited a moment, and soon enough, he exited, whistling a happy tune. Once he was gone, Yzma clanked her way into the room, still wearing the awkward armor.

It was a library. On one hand, it was fortuitous that the infinitely valuable Datascape was hidden somewhere in the exact location that Yzma had been looking for from the start. On the other, she supposed the Datascape was hidden within a secret room that could only be activated by pulling the right book off the shelf, and the curved golden shelves held a vast multitude of books, some of which were only accessible by ladder. To search for the one that triggered the Datascape's hiding place by pulling books one by one would be a fool's errand.

A much easier task would be to find a history book detailing the Cornerstone of Light. Discarding the armor, Yzma began poring over the shelves. Soon enough, she came across a thick tome called "From Timeless River to Disney Town: A History." Flipping through it, she gathered the highlights. The Cornerstone of Light had been part of the kingdom since its oldest days. It was kept hidden away somewhere in the castle, but "It is never far from the king himself, and is the foundation beneath all his rulings."

"Well, that obviously puts it hidden somewhere underneath the throne," Yzma muttered. "You don't have to be a genius to figure that one out."

She removed her scroll from her pocket, dialing Mozenrath's number.

...

Mozenrath set the most recent iteration of the shrinking solution to boil over a Bunsen burner while Wuya ground the remaining ingredients together with a mortar and pestle. Mozenrath's scroll beeped a jaunty little tune, letting him know he had a call. The eight associates had been sure to put pictures of each other in for caller ID, but some had done better in front of the camera than others, and Yzma's picture showed her caught in the middle of asking why the camera was taking so long to snap.

Mozenrath answered the phone with "What happened?"

"I found the…who's all listening?" Yzma replied.

"I'll put you on speakerscroll." Mozenrath activated the speaker mode of the phone, laying it down on the counter. "You're now live with me and Wuya."

"Just you and Wuya?" Yzma repeated. "Where are Mim and Aghoul?"

"We couldn't trust them not to burn or break anything that shouldn't have been broken or burned," Wuya explained. "So we chased them out. We're not sure exactly WHERE they ended up. I guess we'll just have to track down wherever the giant crater in the ground is later."

"How is the potion coming?" Yzma inquired.

"Almost done," Mozenrath answered, "though not without a price. I've already burned the palm of my left hand trying to make this solution."

"Do you want to explain exactly HOW you burned your hand?" Wuya was smirking broadly.

Mozenrath sighed. "I asked Wuya if she was more afraid of breaking a nail or singing her delicate little hands. So she set my hand on fire."

"You get one of those for every sexist comment," Wuya informed him.

Mozenrath thought about saying something about women being quick to anger, but he knew this would only end in some other body part being set on fire.

"Well, I've got good news on two fronts," Yzma explained. "First of all, I know the location of the Cornerstone of Light."

Wuya suddenly cursed, shaking her hand furiously.

"Something wrong?" Mozenrath asked.

"No," Wuya replied innocently, hiding her hand behind her back. She'd just gotten another reminder of why having a physical body was sometimes more trouble than it was worth. But there was no way she was about to admit to Mozenrath that she'd just broken a nail on the pestle.

"What's the other front?" Mozenrath asked Yzma.

"You aren't going to believe this," Yzma told him. "In this castle, there happens to be the key to something much, MUCH bigger. If I understand it correctly, it will make gathering magical artifacts AND taking over thrones a good deal easier!"

Mozenrath broke out into a smirk of malicious glee. "I'm listening."


	6. Claymores

6\. Claymores

Yzma quickly scurried back out to the tea table. "My apologies," she said hurriedly as she retook her seat.

"Don't worry about it," Donald told her. "Roman was almost done telling us his story." He didn't even look at Yzma; his eyes were glued on Roman, and he was visibly distraught.

"As I was saying," Roman continued somberly, "I was just trying to get out of the city when all of a sudden, Tin Man's robo-soldiers stopped firing on the Grimm and started firing on US. The people. I mean, I knew the guy had a few screws loose, but I didn't think he was a genocidal maniac! All I knew was that I had to get out of there. So I ran. As you can see, I avoided getting shot by any of the robo-freaks, but it sounded like a lot of the people of Vale…weren't so lucky. I found these three waiting for me outside of town, and we decided to hop the first airship out of Vale and head for Haven. That's where we've been conducting business ever since. Sometimes I think about the kingdom we left behind, and I just…can't BELIEVE it." He hung his head.

"Gawrsh," Goofy replied, on the verge of tears. "That was one sad story…"

"Awwwwwww," Donald moaned.

"It's been hard on all of us," Snatcher picked up, gently patting Roman on the back. "Especially with the looming fear that the General might come after us next. But we've been determined not to let this set us far back! Life shall go on!"

"Good thinkin'!" Goofy commented.

By then, Mickey had also returned to the table. "Sorry 'bout that," he apologized. "What'd I miss?"

"Roman told us all about the kingdom they were from on their world," Donald recapitulated, "and it's really sad! There was a war, and terrible villains, and creatures that sound like Heartless, only stronger!"

"Gosh," Mickey replied. "I had no idea."

Of course you didn't, Yzma thought, glaring at Mickey. That Datascape should have told him about the Grimm at least. The mouse was putting up a good poker face to make sure no one knew about his little research trip.

"I move we transition to a happier subject," Snatcher suggested.

"Y'know, fellas," Mickey brought up, "I had been hopin' to see some of this Dust in action. Are ya sure there isn't any you can show us?"

"Well…" Roman fished about in his pockets to find a few other crystals. "I'd say the red one still packs too much of a punch, but I COULD show you a few others…"

The Huntsman leaned over to Yzma. "Did you find what we were looking for?" he whispered.

"That and more," she hissed back. "We wait for word from Mozenrath before we make a move."

...

Once Yzma had finished explaining the Datascape to Mozenrath and Wuya, the pair had hustled up to finish and pocket the shrinking solution. They found Mim and Aghoul strolling along the coasts of Waterfall; Mim sought out as many water lilies as she could find to wither in order to have something to do while the pair talked about all manner of things grotesque. Mozenrath made short work of catching them up on the state of affairs.

"This 'Datascape' most likely has even more information on the worlds than I do," Mozenrath explained. "I have no doubt that it would lead us right to the other eleven artifacts we're looking for to pull off this spell. Not to mention it would let us know about the various pressure points of the worlds we want to rule. Say we wanted to reel in a few smaller catches on the way to the Heart of All Worlds. Now, we can either have the four we already stationed there take forever trying to dig it up without getting found out…or we can storm the castle."

"You realize you could probably get into the grounds if you left your gauntlet behind," Aghoul suggested.

Mozenrath scowled. "Not an option. Besides, that would leave me without any firepower."

"Well, we can't take any of OUR magic into the grounds," Wuya reminded him.

"So what do we do?" Mim asked. "Use someone else's magic?"

"Or…" An idea occurred to Wuya. "In this case, Jack Spicer would usually send a horde of his incompetent robots. Where you can't use magic, you can use technology."

"Merlin's always complaining about technology!" Mim replied. "Calls it all one big mess, he does!"

"It is," Wuya confirmed, "unless you can get it to work for you."

"I didn't think there WAS technology on your world," Aghoul pointed out.

Mim shook her head. "There's not! But Merlin goes zippity-zap around to all the different worlds. The way I learned about so many of them was following him around to shake things up! And there's one world where he complains about the technology more than anywhere else!"

"And that world would be?" Mozenrath asked.

Mim named a place he was well acquainted with already. And knowing what he did about it, Mozenrath realized it more than likely held a reservoir of potential weaponry for his scheme.

...

The town of Radiant Garden bustled with afternoon shoppers seeking out everything from weaponry to ice cream to bolster their personal supplies. Among the colorful wooden shops and evenly tiled streets peppered here and there with foliage, three teenagers made their way through the crowd: a brunette boy dressed in black, a silver-haired boy in yellow and blue, and a red-haired girl in pink. Several of the townspeople recognized them, as they were frequent visitors of this town and had done many an incredible deed to protect the world. The names of the Keybearers Sora, Riku, and Kairi were somewhat well known.

At the counter of the accessory shop, Kairi held out both wrists, each encased in a different bangle. "Okay," she asked her two male companions. "Which one do you think is better?" She held up her right wrist, showcasing the red bangle upon it. "This one will protect me from fire." Then the left wrist, ringed with blue. "But THIS one will protect me from ice. What do you think?"

"Hmmmm." Sora thought it over. "Whenever I get in a fight, I tend to see a lot more fire."

"They're both important," Riku pointed out. "Can you afford both?"

Kairi nodded. "But I didn't know if I'd have to save for anything else. Like potions and ethers."

"Once you learn the Cure spell, you won't need as many potions," Riku pointed out. "It's better to be protected from the elements."

Kairi nodded. "Okay!" She turned to the counter, retrieving a purse from which she removed a handful of glimmering munny crystals. "I'll take both."

As the trio turned away from the shop, Kairi asked, "So…is there anything else that's important to have in order to become the next Keybearer?"

"There is one more VERY important thing," Sora emphasized.

"What's that?"

Riku didn't say a word. Somehow, he knew what the answer would be.

"Ice cream!" Sora said with a smile. "My treat!"

Riku grinned. "That's pretty important."

The line outside Scrooge McDuck's ice cream parlor was rather long, as it tended to get on warmer days, but the three friends didn't mind waiting. "After this," Sora suggested, "we should visit Leon and the rest of the Restoration Committee. I wonder how they're doing!"

Riku noticed Kairi staring in the opposite direction of the parlor, out toward the massive castle. "How does it feel after all this time?" he asked.

"Strange," Kairi answered. "I know this is the world I come from. But it's all so different from what I remember. Part of me feels like I'm at home, and part of me feels like I've never been here before."

"We'll stop at the library in the castle," Sora promised. "I KNOW you've been there, and that place hasn't changed much."

"I think I remember a bit of it," Kairi confirmed. "I think I even remember my favorite book. I wonder if it's still there."

"We'll find out," Riku promised. "Just don't drip any ice cream on it when you read, okay?"

"I won't! I'm more worried about Sora doing that."

"Hey!" Sora retorted.

"She has a point," Riku chuckled. "You do spill food a lot."

"Oh yeah? Well…your room's always a mess!"

"You wanna go there?" Riku put Sora ("Hey! Stop that!") in a teasing headlock, ruffling his spiky hair.

...

Mozenrath, Wuya, Mim, and Aghoul stepped out of their Corridor on the other side of town, beyond the bailey. There were no shops here, and no throng of people to lend this part of the city life.

"Watch your back," Mozenrath warned. "Maleficent likes to call this world a base of operations. She'll have eyes everywhere, and it will be crawling with Heartless."

On cue, a Darkball Heartless materialized in midair, turning its spherical body so that it faced the four sorcerers. They braced for action, but before anyone could make a move, a white circle of energy formed on the ground beneath the creature. A glowing sphere shot upward from it, colliding with the Heartless; the way the creature shuddered, it appeared to have dealt out a lot of pain. The Heartless quivered, then dissipated.

"Well, that was anticlimactic," Aghoul sighed.

"Actually," Wuya pointed out, "I thought it was interesting. I wonder if there are any more of those."

"Something about all this seems familiar," Mim mused.

"We don't have time to mess around," Mozenrath asserted. "We need to figure out the next step of our plan. Mim, if you've been here, you can't be seen in town without causing a riot."

"And proud of it!" Mim said enthusiastically.

"That leaves the other three of us," Mozenrath continued, beginning to walk in the downtown direction, "to search the town. Unless, of course, we wanted to go directly to the castle – "

A host of Darkballs sprang up right in Mozenrath's path. And yet again, before Mozenrath could blast them out of existence, the white energy circles appeared on the ground and took care of the job for him.

"Now I remember!" Mim recalled. "They're called Claymores! All I know about them is that Merlin hates them!"

"Do you know where they come from?" Mozenrath asked.

"Well, I would presume that committee that Merlin's always hanging around," Mim mused. "Why do you ask?"

"If they could do that to a Heartless," Mozenrath pointed out, "think about what they might do if they were turned on the Disney Castle royalty."

"I like the way you think," Wuya purred. "Now, how do we get these Claymores for ourselves?"

"Tell me more about this…committee that you've seen Merlin with," Mozenrath urged.

"Well," Mim recalled, "they keep trying to put the town back together after what Maleficent did to it. They all used to meet in Merlin's house, but now I think they use the castle. They figured out it's safer there. Safer from things like me, that is!"

"Well, then," Aghoul mused, "all we have to do is teleport inside that castle, and…"

"I wouldn't advise just teleporting inside a building we've never been to before," Mozenrath interrupted. "Unless, of course, Mim has."

Mim shook her head. "Nope! Never been inside!"

"I make it a rule never to appear somewhere if I don't know where all the walls and furniture are," Mozenrath explained. "That way, I avoid the nasty fate of ending up with a wall splitting me in half. And the more people teleport somewhere unknown, the greater chance there is of someone getting split in half by a wall. That's why you always want to start outdoors when you make a portal to a world you've never been to."

Wuya flinched at the mention of being severed in two by a wall. Mim and Aghoul both found the idea delightful so long as it wasn't happening to them.

"We'll need to find another way into the castle," Mozenrath muttered, casting his gaze about. His eyes alit upon the wall that ran the perimeter of the kingdom. "I wonder…"

In a flash, Mozenrath had brought himself, Mim, Wuya, and Aghoul to the top of that wall. An empty canal ran across its surface; there had very clearly been water in it at one point. Towers were set along the wall at intervals.

"What are we doing?" Aghoul wondered out loud.

"Playing a hunch," Mozenrath told him. "After all, all the water in a kingdom tends to come from the same place."

...

The towers along the wall led into a dark and spacious system of underground canals that both brought fresh water to the fountains and plumbing of the city and carried away its sewage. The paths that Mozenrath found his way along were presumably for maintenance purposes. His three companions followed him closely all the while. Mozenrath kept in mind the location of the castle as he'd seen it on the surface, making sure to angle his path in that direction. Every now and again, he would come across a locked gate, but those were easily melted away with a bit of magic. Entire stone walls would block the way at other times, but a carefully planted skull bomb easily reduced any one to rubble, revealing a larger network of canals beyond.

The further Mozenrath progressed, the more he felt a looming presence. "We're getting pretty close to a lot of raw magic," he announced. "That bodes well for us getting closer to the castle."

When the resonance of the magic became overwhelming, Mozenrath began the journey upward, finding a stairway. More locked doors and gates met their demises at the hands of the four sorcerers. Finally, they found themselves in new scenery: the crowded, greenish walls of the subterranean waters gave over to metallic silver.

They had made it inside the bowels of the Radiant Garden castle.

Upon examination, they found several rooms of interest. One chamber, seeming almost to be a mile high by a mile wide, was filled with what seemed to be cannons.

"Are these weapons?" Aghoul wondered out loud.

"Why would anyone build this many cannons just to point them at each other inside of a room?" Wuya snapped.

"It looks more like a factory of some kind," Mozenrath observed. "This might be what we want. Or it might not. I'm looking for some kind of information repository."

"Like a computer?" Wuya corrected.

Such a device was found in an adjacent room to the factory. The terminal was quite large, with a screen several feet across. "That will have the information you're looking for," Wuya pointed out.

Mozenrath hovered over the terminal, not quite sure what to do with it. He tapped a key experimentally, trying his best to look like he knew what he was doing.

"Oh…HERE!" Wuya shoved him out of the way, taking over the keyboard. "I'd better not be the only person in the entire group who knows how to USE one of these things!"

Her fingers flew over the keys, typing queries about Claymores. Eventually, she was able to load up a program marked "Radiant Garden Defense Systems." It was guarded with a five-level password. Wuya thought it over before typing the word "Merlin" experimentally; it was accepted.

"Who are the other members of this committee that Merlin throws in his lot with?" she asked Mim.

"Well, let's see." Mim rummaged around in her memory. "There's Cid – "

Wuya's attempt was marked as an error.

"That's 'Cid' with a 'C,'" Mim corrected.

That time, the name went through.

"Yuffie," Mim rattled off. "Leon."

Two more correct hits.

"And what was that last one?" Mim asked herself. "Eris?"

Rejected.

"Alice."

Rejected.

"Try 'Aeris' with an 'A' at the beginning."

Rejected.

"Oh! OH! AERITH! THAT WAS IT!"

The program unlocked fully. "I'm in the Claymore system," Wuya announced. "Find me a CD to copy it to."

Mozenrath, Mim, and Aghoul looked at her blankly.

Wuya gave a sigh of exasperation. "A round, flat object that has a label on one side and is shiny on the other."

Still trying to look like he knew what he was doing, Mozenrath rummaged around the room until he came up with a tray of blank compact discs. Wuya inserted one into the terminal, initiating a backup copy of the Claymore program onto the disc.

"HEY!" a voice barked out from behind the four mages. "What the FUCK do you think yer doin' in here?"

The quartet whirled to see a very angry and rather well-built blond man in a white T-shirt and blue pants glaring at them with arms folded. Behind him were a raven-haired girl in black leather, a long-haired brunette woman in a pink sundress, and a long-haired brunette man sporting a jacket and pants of black along with far more belts than he needed.

"Don't tell me," Aghoul groaned. "Cid, Yuffie, Leon, and Aerith."

"How do you know our NAMES?" Yuffie gaped.

"Because one of them has been here before," Leon answered, striding to the front of the group while reaching back to draw a weapon from its sheath. "That witch is one of Merlin's enemies." He withdrew his bright silver gunblade, aiming it at the four intruders.

"You're RIGHT!" Yuffie realized, retrieving several shuriken from her pockets. "That IS her!"

"Don't draw your weapons just yet," Aerith cautioned. She looked to the intruders with concern. "Why are you here?" she asked.

"To take what's not ours," Wuya replied with a toothy grin. She spun in place, gathering up a ball of energy that she let loose upon Aerith.

A swirl of golden stars surrounded Aerith, blocking the bolt. Yuffie threw herself in between Aerith and Yuffie, charging the Heylin witch by flipping hand over foot over hand over foot, dealing a kick toward Wuya's face. Wuya was able to catch Yuffie's foot in one hand, twisting the young ninja around and slamming her against the floor. Yuffie squirmed out of Wuya's grip and leapt to her feet, striking out again and again; Wuya parried or dodged every blow and returned several of her own. Yuffie leapt back a few feet, loosing a trio of shuriken at Wuya; Wuya grabbed all three out of the air nimbly, shooting them right back at their owner. Yuffie winced as cold metal bit into her upper arms.

Aghoul lobbed a skull-shaped bomb at Cid, who responded by tossing a stick of lit dynamite. The explosives crossed paths in midair en route to their targets. Cid ducked and rolled to avoid the exploding skull; Aghoul hit the ground and let the dynamite pass over him. After the great BOOM, Aghoul and Cid both returned to their feet, Cid drawing a spear and Aghoul calling up a scythe. "Think you can just go an' hurt my family like that?" Cid raged, leaping into the air to drive his spear downward at Aghoul.

"I was planning on hurting a lot of families in the long run!" Aghoul laughed, barely dodging the spear and letting Cid drive it into the ground before swinging his scythe at Cid's head. Cid ducked just in time, wrenching his spear free from the ground in order to clash it against the scythe.

Mim immediately went to the form of the panther, lunging at Leon. Leon raised his blade and swung it hard in response, aiming right at her exposed stomach. Halfway through her flight, Mim transformed into a falcon, swooping upward, out of reach of the blade. She turned in midair to dive straight down at Leon; he set off three rounds of fire at her, and she dodged all, colliding with his face and leaving deep scratches around his eyes. Leon was barely able to bat her away with the flat of the blade before she could blind him.

Mozenrath and Aerith had reached a stalemate. Mozenrath cast blast after blast of brilliant blue energy at the woman in the pink sundress, but her entire body shimmered with gold, indicating a deflection spell that caused all of Mozenrath's shots to simply bounce off of her. She retaliated with a spell made of white light, but Mozenrath was able to put up his own deflection shield before it could do any damage.

"But why?" Aerith reiterated. "Why are you doing this?"

"Simply put," Mozenrath told her, launching another projectile, "I've decided your Claymores should become our Claymores."

"What are you going to do with them?" Aerith asked; Mozenrath's blasts bounced off her again, and she refocused her magic from defense to offense in order to let another burst of white light out at him.

"Using them on those teeny little Heartless was just wasted potential," Mozenrath remarked, waving a hand to blow the holy attack aside. "Now, if you could just be a good girl and go back to fixing the ruffles on that dress or something, that would make my job a lot easi – "

He was caught off guard by Aerith's next blast, thrown backward against the wall.

"Thank you," Wuya told Aerith over her shoulder. "Saved me the trouble." She threw Yuffie over her shoulder while casting a glance at the computer screen. The data was only 50 percent copied.

...

Kairi removed a red-spined book from the castle library shelf. "It is still here," she said reverently. "It's a book of old fairy tales from this world." She flipped through the pages, looking at the delicate script, the intricate illustrations. "The story of The Green Unicorn. The Dragon and the Chalice. The Five Clever Sisters. It's all here. My grandmother used to read these to me every night!"

"Hey, I have an idea!" Sora suggested. "Maybe you could read some of them to us!"

"Are you kidding?" Riku laughed. "That's kid's stuff." Though as childish as the idea sounded, he had to admit he was interested.

"That sounds like fun!" Kairi exclaimed.

"Okay, fine," Riku relented. "But only because you two want to."

"I think you secretly want to hear the stories, too," Sora teased, lightly elbowing Riku.

"…Maybe." Riku gave a sincere smile.

A loud crash alerted the trio to the fact that they probably wouldn't be investigating the fairy tales of Radiant Garden that day. "What was that?" Sora wondered out loud.

More rumbling and crashing followed. "Sounds like trouble," Riku commented.

"It sounds like it's coming from the lower level!" Sora identified. His Keyblade materialized in his hand in a streak of light, and he slung it over his back. "Come on! Let's go!" He broke into a run, heading out of the library.

Riku followed for a few steps before noticing that Kairi wasn't following. And when he stopped to see why, Sora noticed that neither was following him, and he also halted. "What's wrong?" Sora asked.

"I…" Kairi hesitated.

"You don't know if you can handle whatever's down there, if it is a real problem?" Riku guessed.

"I don't want to get in your way," Kairi said softly.

"Are you kidding?" Sora encouraged. "You did GREAT back at the World That Never Was! That's why Yen Sid wanted to see YOU so bad! You'll do great here too!"

"And you won't get in our way," Riku confirmed.

Kairi's brow furrowed. Then she gave a nod, breaking into a run for the library door. Sora and Riku resumed their course as well.

...

An enormous shuriken appeared in Yuffie's hand. She flung it, and it circled around the room once before honing in on Wuya. Wuya let it get as close as it could before leaping up into the air, levitating so that the giant shuriken passed right under her and made a beeline for its thrower. Yuffie sidestepped slightly too late; a cry of pain escaped her lips as blood flowed from a newly opened gash in her side.

Leon had struggled with his blade against the horns of a water buffalo Mim until the witch had just decided to transform into an elephant and bowl Leon right over. She realized she could have squished him right then and there, but it was more fun for her to take the form of a goat first so that she could dance on his back as she trampled him slowly.

Cid and Aghoul were almost even matches with scythe and spear. All it took was for Cid to slip once, and the scythe blade cut into him, drawing crimson blood that stained the front of his white shirt.

Hearing and seeing her friends in distress, Aerith broke the stalemate, focusing her energy neither on offense or defense but on a full-party Curaga. As healing magic settled in over Yuffie, Leon, and Cid, rejuvenating them, Aerith was thrown backward into the wall by Mozenrath's next blast; her head swam and her ears rang. She collapsed to the floor, disoriented.

"AERITH!" Yuffie cried, abandoning Wuya to run in between Mozenrath and her fallen friend. This only allowed Wuya and Mozenrath to fire bolts of plasma at Yuffie at the same time, knocking her completely out cold. Wuya then turned her attention to helping Aghoul; she flipped through the air and planted a kick square on Cid's back, knocking him to the ground. Mim, in the meantime, had disarmed Leon, using her goat form to knock the gunblade from his hand, and once he was without a weapon, she was easily able to wind around him in the body of a boa constrictor, squeezing him ever tighter.

When Sora, Riku, and Kairi burst into the room, it was to see Mozenrath trying to decide whether to give the killing blow to Aerith or Yuffie, Aghoul with his scythe at Cid's neck, and Mim expelling the life from Leon's lungs. It took them no longer than a split second to realize action needed to be taken.

Riku launched into a Dark Splicer, shooting his entire body, Keyblade outward, at Aghoul. As he rammed into the undead sorcerer, Aghoul dropped the scythe in shock, trying to run. Back and forth Riku shot across the room, slamming into Aghoul quite a few times and whacking him with the Keyblade.

Kairi ran right up toward Mim and slammed her Keyblade into the boa's head. With an "OUCH!", the snake collapsed to the floor, freeing up Leon, who ran for his blade immediately.

Sora launched his Keyblade at Mozenrath, and it collided, throwing the sorcerer off balance. No sooner had he retrieved it than he threw it again, hitting Mozenrath while he was already down. This Strike Raid went on far too quickly for Mozenrath to begin charging up another blast. Once it ended, Sora charged Mozenrath directly, swinging his blade; Mozenrath quickly raised his right hand to shield his face.

Wuya looked around at the scene. Mim was getting absolutely battered by the redhead girl. The silver-haired boy was far too quick for Aghoul; Wuya watched him try to produce a skull bomb only for the Keybearer to shoot it with Dark Firaga, causing it to explode in Aghoul's hands. The spiky-haired boy was whaling on Mozenrath faster than Mozenrath could get any attack braced, and the poor sorcerer was now just trying to keep the boy from bruising his face. And on top of it all, Leon had just picked up his sword and Cid had shaken off Aghoul's last attack, meaning the fight was about to become four on five.

A "ding" let her know the Claymore data had been completely written onto the disc. At the very least, they'd gotten what they came for. Wuya quickly spun and ejected the disc, then telekinetically ripped the entire computer terminal out of its spot against the wall and launched it hard at Leon. Leon responded by slicing clean through the flying terminal with his blade, causing the two halves to fall to either side of him, sparking with electricity.

Gritting her teeth, Wuya conceded defeat. "Let's GO!" she urged before disappearing into a Corridor of Darkness.

Having been thoroughly beaten and humiliated, Mozenrath, Mim, and Aghoul did the same, all hoping that they had the same destination in mind.

Once they were gone, Sora, Riku, Kairi, Leon, and Cid halted a moment to survey the scene and catch their collective breath. "Who were THEY?" Sora asked.

"One of them was an enemy of Merlin's," Leon explained. "The others…I don't know. This was the first time I'd seen any of them."

"They were after our Claymore technology for some goddamn reason," Cid added, "and from the looks of it, they got ahold of it!"

"Sora!" Riku called out, drawing attention to the unconscious Aerith and Yuffie. "Kairi!"

"Oh, no!" Kairi cried once she saw their prone bodies.

"They're okay," Riku informed them. "Just out cold." He lightly touched Aerith's shoulder. "Heal."

"Heal!" Sora echoed, pointing his Keyblade at Yuffie.

The two women were cured of the shock from Mozenrath's attacks, and slowly, groggily, they began to stand. "Urgh…did they get away?" Yuffie groaned.

"Yeah," Sora told her. "But we're just glad you're all right."

"Did they get…?" Aerith began.

"Yes," Leon confirmed.

"I don't like this," Riku stated. "Something tells me we haven't heard the last of those four."

...

Mozenrath, Wuya, Mim, and Aghoul were all livid, and they all knew this about each other the second they arrived back at Mt. Ebott.

"THAT was a fluke," Mozenrath growled. "He caught me off guard."

"What WERE those things, anyway?" Aghoul raged. "Who ever thought making a sword shaped like a key was a good idea? It's one of the stupidest things I've ever seen!"

"Stupider than an oversized gardening tool for a weapon?" Wuya retorted.

"The weaponized scythe is a tradition that goes all the way back to the Grim Reaper!" Mim argued.

"The weaponized – what she said!" Aghoul chimed in.

"Let's just…FORGET that happened," Mozenrath snarled. "We need to find a way to get those Claymores to do what we want."

"Back to Hotland?" Mim suggested.

"No," Mozenrath told her. "We need live test subjects."

"But we have all sorts of those right outside this mountain!" Aghoul pointed out.

"We need to keep a low profile in Knightdock," Mozenrath informed him. "If they find out there's a legion of conquerors in this mountain, we might have a whole army to deal with trying to stamp us out."

"You let Torchwick run around shooting whoever he wants in town," Wuya pointed out.

"Because he never lets anyone pick up his trail," Mozenrath reminded her, "and because he brings back supplies for free."

"Well?" Aghoul turned to Mim. "You seem to be full of knowledge about other worlds lately. Where can we go?"

"Hmmmmmmmm…" Mim thought it over. "Now, I don't know if they have the computer technology we need, but I can think of a place that's disgustingly happy that I want to take down a peg."

Mozenrath shrugged. "That works for me."

...

Even though it had been broad daylight in Disney Town and Radiant Garden not too long ago, the new world where the four sorcerers arrived seemed to be in the dusk hours.

"Have I ever mentioned that I hate sunshine?" Mim asked.

"I don't believe you did," Aghoul answered.

"Well, I do," Mim huffed, arms folded, "but I hate sunSETS even more! And this world is ALWAYS in a sunset!"

"That's probably why it's called 'Twilight Town,'" Wuya pointed out.

"All the more reason we should make it miserable!" Mim emphasized.

"Now," Mozenrath wondered out loud, looking around at the buildings that towered above him, "where do you suppose we can find a computer where we can test out our new trump card?"

The city was immeasurably huge. The four wandered around for a while, looking for a town hall or a factory of some sort – anything that might have a more advanced computer system than your average home. After locating a train station, Mozenrath kept it in the back of his mind, thinking perhaps they would have to ride on to another district in order to find a place to get their work done. He was just about to cut his losses and suggest that plan of action when Wuya discovered the hole in the wall.

That on its own was worth investigating. It seemed odd that a town like this should have such a conspicuous gap in its wall that no one had bothered to patch up. It led into a forest, and Mozenrath couldn't help but wonder if it was an intentional entrance to a new path or just damage from some recent catastrophe. That question only became more prominent when on the other side of the forest, a great mansion with arched windows and an iron gate loomed.

"A computer system might be a little too much to ask out of this place," Mozenrath observed, "but it's still worth investigation. You don't know anything about this, do you, Mim?"

"Not a clue!" Mim chirped.

The gates were locked, but once again, no lock Mozenrath had met yet proved a match for his magic. Once the iron bars were sufficiently melted, the quartet strode on into the front yard.

They split up inside the mansion, each looking at a different room. Aghoul surveyed a room where a thick wooden table had been smashed in half by some immense force, wondering what sort of conflict had gone down inside this house. A taxidermized unicorn head on the wall also caught his attention, striking him as something the Huntsman might enjoy. Mim poked around the front lobby, noticing that a small castle sculpture in a glass case had toppled over there; she shattered the case for good measure. Upstairs, Mozenrath found a room that was completely white, and was trying to work out the significance.

Wuya burst into the white room, announcing, "I found something you're going to want to see."

The downstairs library had a giant hole in the floor, where a stairway led to the blue, metallic basement. And in that basement was situated an incredibly complex computer system, one with at least ten different screens. Its design alone put the Radiant Garden terminal to shame.

"Well, that's a stroke of luck," Mozenrath remarked as he and his three companions looked over the intricate system. He sat down at it, looking around at the different screens, trying to figure out how to turn the entire thing on to begin with.

After he'd sat there cluelessly for thirty seconds, Wuya cleared her throat.

"Wuya," Mozenrath said, getting up out of the seat. "You found this room. Would you like to do the honors?"

"And here I thought you'd never ask." Wuya produced the Claymore disc, inserting it into the system as she sat down. With a few keystrokes, she brought the Claymore program up on one screen and a surveillance shot of one of the squares of Twilight Town – the base of a hill, where several people were gathered watching a street performer knock a ball into the air on the edge of a bat – on the opposite. "Now," she asked, "shall we wreak havoc?"

"Back in Radiant Garden, the Claymores just targeted Heartless," Mozenrath pointed out. "Can you change what they target?"

"To what?"

"To human beings."

Wuya grinned. "Let's find out."

...

In the square, the grandstander had just knocked the ball into the air for the hundredth consecutive time, and the highest yet. As he rushed to catch it on its fall, he basked in the cheers he earned from the rapt audience.

Then, all of a sudden, he found himself lying flat on his back, having been very painfully thrown off course by something that had sprung up from the ground. A second Claymore caught the ball on the way down and burst it.

The audience only had a few seconds to stare in confusion before they too were surrounded by Claymores. Then the mass panic set in.

...

Mim and Aghoul couldn't stop giggling as they watched the Claymores devastate the people of Twilight Town. The gleaming energy weapons chased the people out of the square and down every avenue.

Wuya leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. "I could watch this all day."

"So could I," Mozenrath remarked, "but this isn't what we came for. Now switch it so the Claymores only target animals."

"And why would I do that?" Wuya asked.

"Because all four of our associates in Disney Castle are human," Mozenrath pointed out, "but everyone else who lives in that town is not."

"Give me a minute," Wuya told him. "I need to cross-reference an animal database to input all the species you want to fry." If she ever had Jack Spicer to thank for anything at all, it was teaching her the way around a computer. The boy was good for literally nothing else.

"We'll just enjoy the show in the meantime," Mozenrath replied as Wuya set to work.

...

Two girls had been chased into an alley by one of the rogue Claymores. They found themselves backed up against the wall as the light sphere came closer and cloer.

"Maybe we can jump over it!" one of them said worriedly. "Before it goes off!"

The Claymore began to fire rapidly into the air as it neared.

"No!" the other girl shrieked. "NO! Nononononononono – "

Just before it could get close enough to zap the pair, the Claymore halted. Sensing a new target – a rat living in one of the walls – it veered off to the side and disappeared.

"…What just happened?" the first girl asked.

"Don't ask about it!" the second cried. "Just RUN!"

The wall next to them exploded as the Claymore went after the rat, spurring their hasty retreat all the further.

...

"There," Wuya announced. "The deed is done."

"Good," Mozenrath told her. "Now, the fun begins." He withdrew his scroll, dialing the number of Roman Torchwick.


	7. The Cornerstone of Light

A/N: Props to GAvillain for picking the Datascape's hiding place.

7\. The Cornerstone of Light

The four nonmagical members of the team unofficially known as the WHAM ARMY were, in effect, putting on a magic show in the garden. Roman had quite a bit of Dust hidden in his pockets – they had been kept there as backup weaponry in case of a battle – and now he was in the process of demonstrating as many of them as he could with the help of his three lovely assistants.

"And, like I said," he stated, loading the Cudgel up with green Dust, "the green stuff makes tornadoes." He clicked the weapon into the ready position, aimed, fired. A rapid burst of air nearly blew down one of the topiary sculptures before settling into a contained cyclone that whirled round and round. "Now, in order to make ice, you have to mix the green stuff with the water stuff." He mixed a new concoction in the chamber of his weapon, then used his new ability to shoot ice to construct, burst by burst, a crude abstract sculpture amongst the hedges.

"It is to my understanding that the yellow Dust produces electricity," Snatcher chimed in, withdrawing his weapon and using it to obliterate Roman's ice sculpture in one blast. "As such."

Roman sighed. "Really?"  
The Huntsman and Yzma rolled their eyes at the display.

Roman's scroll rang then, signaling communication from the other half. "I gotta take this," he announced. "Archie, Fluffy, Skull-Face, take over for me, will ya?"

As he strode to the other side of the garden, Yzma turned to the Huntsman and announced, "You're 'Fluffy.'"

"I don't see how I could be anything but 'Skull-Face,'" the Huntsman replied. Then, under his breath, "Unfortunately."

As the trio picked up on the display of Dust, showing off various elemental powers before the wide and awestruck eyes of Mickey, Donald, and Goofy, Roman slipped behind a hedge sculpture and picked up on the call on his scroll. "Talk to me, Righty."

"You know how to handle a computer program, right?" Mozenrath began.

"Like the back of my hand. Whatcha got?"

A few minutes later, armed with Mozenrath's exact instructions, Roman returned to the group at large. "So…where did you say that bathroom was again?"

...

Roman booked it all the way to the edge of town where Mozenrath had first been locked out by the invisible barrier. The young sorcerer stood there waiting for him. "Took you long enough," Mozenrath huffed, holding out the disc.

"So I take it the show's over?" Roman asked hopefully.

"You can drop the act," Mozenrath confirmed. "Just as soon as you get this loaded into the castle's computer system and running. It won't harm you, Yzma, the Huntsman, or Snatcher. The king and queen, on the other hand…"

"Gotcha." Roman took hold of the disc.

"Remember," Mozenrath told him, handing over the vial of shrinking solution as well. "This is our ultimatum for the Datascape. Don't leave that castle without it."

"You don't have to tell me twice." Roman pocketed the vial. "You just wait out here with the getaway portal." He turned to part ways from Mozenrath, making his way back through the town.

In a matter of mere moments, he would no longer have to keep up the act of coming in peace. With that in mind, as he strode down the city streets, he decided to have a little fun. He passed through a courtyard where a cow and a horse were playing a variant of volleyball with giant watermelons, apples, and grapes. As Clarabelle Cow launched an apple high into the air, she and Horace Horsecollar were dismayed to see it explode in midair, shot down by a rogue icicle.

Though that random act of cruelty had put Roman in a good mood, he was hungry for a little more – literally. A duckling clad in a red tee and cap made his way through the square with a towering cone of ice cream: five scoops, all different flavors. Roman simply walked up to Huey, smacked him across the chest with the Cudgel's shaft, and knocked him over. Huey somehow managed to keep his ice cream held upright, but no sooner did he have time to think about how much of a relief that was than Roman had swiped the ice cream right out of his hand, continuing his stride as he took a great mouthful of the dessert. Roman could already tell that living with Snatcher, he'd have to take all his dairy-based foods on the sly, and it might be a long time since he saw an ice cream cone he could take advantage of again. Which was a shame, as his old partner in crime had gotten him rather hooked on the stuff.

There really had to be a faster way back to the castle, he mused, than just walking. Already, he'd been gone so long, the royal court must have suspected he wasn't in the bathroom after all. Still, now that he'd been handed a weapon of mass chaos, he preferred to get it under way sooner rather than later. Fortuitously, there was a race track nearby where two other ducklings, identical to the ice cream wielder but dressed in green and blue, were jetting around in airplane-shaped go-karts. Roman waited for one of them to finish a lap before shooting the kart off course, causing it to tip over on its side. Casually, Roman, ignoring a string of protests from Dewey, righted the kart, knocked the duck aside, mounted his new ride, and slammed down the gas, enjoying his stolen ice cream all the while.

Speeding toward one's destination on a hijacked car while eating five flavors of ice cream someone had paid for was truly the only way to travel as far as Roman was concerned. Then again, it would have been even better if the go-kart had come equipped with guns.

...

By the time Roman made it back to the garden, he had finished the last bite of the ice cream cone. Yzma, the Huntsman, and Snatcher had found a way to safely light up chunks of the red Dust one at a time, producing a fireworks show that elicited an "Ooooooh!" and "Aaaaaaah!" out of Mickey, Donald, and Goofy.

"Well, fellas," Mickey announced, "this Dust stuff has been real impressive! I think you've all got yourselves a deal!"

"Sorry to break up the party," Roman said as he walked back in, "but that call earlier was news from home. And you won't believe it." He put on a somber expression, hoping at least one of them would get it.

Snatcher picked up the ball right away. "No!" he cried. "Not the General! Not HAVEN!"

Roman nodded. "Looks like we won't be going home for a while."

"Oh, no," Donald moaned.

"I'm…real sorry to hear that," Mickey said solemnly. "If it's any consolation, there's enough room in Disney Town for you all to stay here as long as ya need!"

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Yzma replied formally. "If there is any way we can repay your kindness, please do let us know."

"In the meantime…" Roman walked closer to the rest of the group, brushing against the Huntsman's arm. The Huntsman picked up the signal, opening his hand for Roman to transfer the vial of shrinking solution into it. "We need to check up on things for ourselves. Got a computer we can use for a minute?"

"Well," Mickey answered, "there is the one in the gummi hangar…but are ya sure you can get a connection to Remnant from here?"

"Uh…" Roman bit his lip.

"There exists somewhat of a technological back door through which business between Remnant and other worlds can be conducted," Snatcher said quickly. "A security installment implanted upon our own world. And one that led us to the knowledge of YOUR world, at that."

"Though as it was set in place by General Ironwood," the Huntsman added, "there's no telling whether he could use it against us."

"Then of course you can use the hangar computer," Mickey resolved, swinging open the door of the castle-shaped topiary to reveal a stairway spiraling down.

"Wait!" Donald threw himself in front of the door. "How do we know this isn't some kind of trick?" He eyed Roman suspiciously.

"Donald!" Goofy scolded. "That ain't no way to treat anybody who's been through everythin' they have!"

Mickey had his suspicions as well; that was why he was only giving them access to the more public computer instead of the one in his own study. "We'll all go together," the king resolved. "That way, you can show us more about this Remnant and everythin' that's goin' on in it."

"Much obliged, Your Majesty," Snatcher responded sweetly.

Down the stairs they moved, into a garage filled with colorful machinery: giant gears and arm-shaped mechanisms that all seemed to be in place to tune up a bright red-orange gummi ship parked in the midst of the hangar. A control booth for the launch crew hung from the ceiling; it was tiny compared to the rest of the hangar, and Yzma caught a glimpse of what looked like two rodents running around up there. Mickey showed Roman, Yzma, Snatcher, and the Huntsman to a computer terminal built into the wall; Donald and Goofy followed just to keep an eye on things.

"Y'know, you're a real pal," Roman told Mickey. "I have known a lot of Faunus in my lifetime, and I think you're the first one who's actually been helpful."

Yzma, the Huntsman, and Snatcher flinched. They better have been getting close to being able to drop their act; otherwise, that comment was just asking for trouble.

But Mickey took it in stride. "Gee, uh…thanks?"

"Now, if you don't mind," Roman went on, "I'd like to be alone for this next bit. It's…just too much to handle."

"Oh, no, you don't!" Donald folded his arms. "We're not going anywhere!"

"It's nothin' personal," Mickey clarified. "We wouldn't let anyone just use our computers without our supervision. It's for our safety."

Roman shrugged. "Suit yourself." He withdrew the disc from his pocket.

"HEY!" Donald pointed at the shining disc.

"What's that disc for?" Goofy asked.

"Oh, this?" Roman pointed to the disc. "Would…you believe it if I told you I needed this in order to connect to Remnant?"

"Maybe…" Mickey thought it over. "Somethin' about all this is suspicious. How do we know what's REALLY on that disc?"

"You let me put it in and see what happens?" Roman suggested.

Mickey shook his head. "Uh-uh!"

"And what are you gonna do if I try it?" Roman asked with a wide grin.

"This IS gettin' suspicious!" Goofy realized.

"Who ARE you?" Donald asked, brow furrowed.

"Me? I'm just a guy from Remnant," Roman answered.

"Put that disc down right now," Mickey commanded, "or else…"

"Or what?" Roman urged.

"Or I'll put you under arrest!" Mickey decided. "For defying a royal order!"

"Well, that's just too bad." Roman lifted the Cudgel, pointing it right at Mickey. "I was hoping we could do this cleanly. Oh, wait. No, I wasn't!"

As the first blast of ice was fired, a Keyblade twinkled into Mickey's hand in time for him to block it.

"Archie," Roman suggested. "Fluffy. Skull-face. If you could hold them off while I do my thing."

Snatcher withdrew his weapon from its sheath; Donald brandished his staff in return. The Huntsman pointed the huntstaff at Goofy, who hid behind his rounded shield. Yzma reached down to lift her skirt up a few inches.

"AUGH, NO!" Roman shielded his eyes.

"MUST you?" the Huntsman scolded.

"PUT THAT HEM BACK DOWN!" Snatcher ordered.

Yzma peeled her skirt up just enough to show where her atlatl and a ring of compact darts had been hidden in a sheath on her thigh. "You're all perverts," she groaned as she retrieved and loaded the weapon.

The Huntsman charged Mickey. Snatcher charged Donald. Yzma loaded up the atlatl to throw a dart at Goofy. And Roman turned to the computer terminal, slipping in the disc.

The Huntsman was fast, striking out with his huntstaff again and again, but Mickey was faster, parrying every shot. "Who are you REALLY?" Mickey asked.

"A slayer of creatures such as yourself," the Huntsman replied. "Your ears will make a fine trophy pinned to my wall." He ejected a net from the end of the huntstaff, and it encircled Mickey, catching the king off balance. Before the Huntsman could deal a killing blow, however, Mickey cast a Pearl of light that burned right through the ropes, freeing him and putting him on his feet once more.

Donald cast a strong Blizzaga spell at Snatcher only for Snatcher to slide right out of the way just in time. Donald attempted Firaga next; Snatcher actually pirouetted out of the spell's path. "HOLD STILL!" Donald cried.

"Not likely!" Snatcher replied coyly. "This is what happens when you try to gun down a classically trained dancer!" He twirled the pistol of his weapon in his hand, letting off a blast of lightning that Donald only just dodged with a "WAK!"

"WILL YOU HURRY UP?" Yzma seethed at Roman. Goofy had entered a Tornado attack, whirling round and round with the edge of his shield pointed at Yzma, and his constant strikes were making it impossible for her to load up a dart.

"Aaaaaalmost there." Roman's fingers danced over the keys. "Just…one…minute."

Claymores materialized on the floor beneath Mickey, Donald, and Goofy. They recognized the DNA of dog, duck, and mouse, all of which Wuya had programmed in for them to target. All three were immediately sent flying by the energy weapons, collapsing in a singed heap some distance away. The Claymores followed them, motivating the trio to get up and run.

Mickey body slammed Roman, knocking him down and standing on the gunner's back in order to look at the terminal. The Claymore program was password locked.

"That's the thing," Roman said smugly from beneath the king. "You don't get the password unless you show us the…"

He became aware of an intense heat building beneath his stomach. Of course. The mouse was on top of him. "Aw, dammit – "

The next Claymore sent Roman and Mickey alike tumbling head over heels. Roman's hat spun through the air. Mickey quickly leapt up to run from another blast. Roman, now aching pretty hard in the stomach area, staggered to his own feet. As he reached out to put a hand on the wall for support, he caught hold of another hand instead. Roman only had a second to turn and look to see whose hand he'd caught hold of – Snatcher's – before Snatcher jerked Roman to his full height, dusting off both his shoulders and setting the black bowler hat back on top of the redhead.

"As I was saying," Roman went on – his three addressees were busy running in circles to keep the Claymores from blasting them while he spoke, and Yzma and the Huntsman fell in intimidating line next to him and Snatcher – "I'll cough up the password to make it all stop as soon as YOU cough up the…" He looked to Yzma. "Thing you found."

"Datascape," Yzma filled in, taking over. "A simple trade. The Datascape for the password.

"NEVER!" Donald yelped.

"Did I mention these things are going off throughout the whole castle?" Roman added cheekily.

Mickey's large ears twitched, and he realized that if he cut through all the noise happening in his immediate vicinity, he could hear the screams of the other inhabitants of the castle as they dealt with Claymores of their own. "MINNIE!" he cried in a panic.

"DAISY!" Donald added. The duck didn't wait a moment longer; he took off at a run to go find and evacuate as many people as he could. The Claymores were hot on his heels, firing rapidly into the air.

"How much longer do you intend to let all of your people suffer?" the Huntsman goaded.

"All right!" Mickey relented. He couldn't believe that he'd been brought to this exact stalemate yet again. He thought he'd seen the last of it with Maleficent's attempt to trade the lives of his friends for the Datascape. And now he was being pushed to make the same decision all over again: his friends' well-being, or the secrets to all the worlds.

There was no correct choice. But he knew the one he had to make.

"Follow me!" Mickey cried, taking off at a run to avoid the Claymores.

"Huntsman!" Yzma barked. "The Cornerstone is located somewhere under the king's throne. Go find it!"

Without a word, the Huntsman stalked off to do as Yzma said. Yzma took off at a run after Mickey, with Snatcher and Roman in tow.

Left alone, Goofy approached the terminal from the right side. As a Claymore formed beneath him, he leapt to the left. When another one formed there, he danced to the right. Back and forth, his feet kept up this two-step as his fingers tapped the computer keys. He was going to call for help.

...

The Huntsman slowly approached the throne. He had all the time in the world, as the Claymores weren't about to target him. That was how the low buzz of a Claymore alerted him to the fact that he wasn't alone in the room.

He turned to see another mouse, this one clothed in a regal pink gown, dancing around the Claymores. "You stop it right there!" Queen Minnie Mouse ordered.

"Out of my way, mouse," the Huntsman commanded, pointing his weapon –

"LIGHT!"

A thick pillar of Light magic shot from floor to ceiling, enveloping the Huntsman in the process. His entire body was wracked with pain, and he was brought to his knees.

"You…" He shakily raised the weapon again.

Minnie responded by casting a Pearl at his hand so that he dropped the staff, never stopping the dance of avoidance of the Claymores. "I'm not gonna let you take our Cornerstone!" she vowed.

The next pillar of light knocked the Huntsman completely out cold.

"QUEEN MINNIE!" Donald rushed into the room, grabbing Minnie by the shoulders. "WE GOTTA GO!"

"But he might wake up and take the – " Minnie protested.

"JUST GO!" Donald urged.

The two hustled before another Claymore could materialize beneath them.

...

Mickey also knew he couldn't stop moving without risking injury. Otherwise, he might have lingered a little longer in the library, traced the spine of the book he removed from the shelf, tried to think of some way to avoid handing it over.

But in his frenzied state, he ripped the book off the shelf and threw it at Yzma's face. She caught it before it could bop her, taking a look at the title and author: "Mary Poppins" by P.L. Travers.

"Wrong book," she scolded, throwing the book back over her shoulder, where Snatcher caught it and began to leaf through its pages. "Now pick the one that opens up the secret passageway to – "

"Miss Yzma," Snatcher interrupted.

Yzma turned to see Snatcher removing a disc from where it had been inserted between the pages of the book. The Datascape.

"That's IT?" Yzma cried. "No secret passageway? You just hid it in a book out in the open?"

"It's a special book!" Mickey squeaked, darting back and forth to evade Claymores. "Now give me the password!"

"You really thought we would hand it to you?" Roman laughed. "Man, are you an IDIOT!"

Mickey suspected this would be the case. But he still had to try and save his domain. Perhaps, he hoped, these ne'er-do-wells wouldn't do as much damage as Maleficent would have with it.

"We should go make sure the Huntsman hasn't botched up things with the Cornerstone," Yzma suggested before the trio turned to stalk out of the library.

"Wait…" Mickey shook his head. "The CORNERSTONE?" He took off at a run.

And once they heard the king's fleet footsteps, the trio of villains put on some speed themselves, making sure to outrun the mouse to the throne room.

...

"Well, that's not good," Roman remarked as he stood over the unconscious Huntsman.

"Search his pockets!" Yzma commanded. "He has to have a container in there somewhere! Roman! Did Mozenrath give you the shrinking solution?"

"Right here." Roman removed the vial from the Huntsman's pocket. He then rifled through the Huntsman's clothing to find all manner of strange magical gadgets, mostly consisting of weapons and chains. "Okay, seriously?" Finally, he turned up a green box. "This looks as much like it as anything."

Snatcher, in the meantime, had been examining the throne itself. If you didn't know what you were looking for, you would probably never find the button located under one of its arms, Snatcher thought, but as he was seeking something of the exact sort, he was able to literally put a finger on it right away. An entire section of the floor shifted to the side, revealing stairs going straight down. At the bottom, set upon a stone pedestal, was a massive glass sphere with a core of Light magic burning brightly away inside.

Mickey arrived just a moment too late. He saw Yzma, Roman, and Snatcher heading down the stairs. He skidded to the bottom of the stairway just in time to see Yzma pouring the shrinking solution on the precious Cornerstone. Once the Cornerstone was small enough to fit in a hand, it went right into the green box, and before Mickey could make a move, the lid slammed shut, dousing the magic of the stone, and things got worse.

Shadow Heartless sprang up from the ground en masse, attracted to the golden Keyblade the king was bearing. "Why, you rotten - !" Mickey called out.

"We'll take that as a compliment," Yzma said with a grin. She, Roman, and Snatcher barged past the king, who was busy with the crowd of newly spawned Heartless as well as the still-active Claymores, in order to get to the top of the stairway.

...

At the edge of town, Mozenrath drummed the fingers of his right hand against the invisible barrier over and over again. When suddenly, there was nothing to drum against, he knew he had his way in.

The streets were filling up with Heartless, and the creatures were tearing down the banners and clawing up the brightly painted buildings. The civilians of the city ran for cover, barricading themselves behind locked doors. Mozenrath cut through a line of Soldiers with a swath of magical energy.

Two thirds of the way to the castle, he ran into Yzma, Roman, and Snatcher, who were arranged in a circle around the unconscious Huntsman; they'd been dragging him out to the rendez-vous point. A horde of Bolt Towers had appeared in their way, forcing them to stop and draw weapons.

Mozenrath's eyes immediately flicked to the unconscious Huntsman. "No," he muttered, then louder: "NO!"

"He's fine," Yzma told Mozenrath. "Just unconscious!"

"Do you have them?" Mozenrath barked.

"Cornerstone? Check," Roman told him. "And Datascape? Check."

Mozenrath had figured the Cornerstone was secure, since he was able to walk into town and see Heartless. "Then let's get back to base," he said sternly before conjuring up a Corridor to take them all home to Mt. Ebott.

...

The Huntsman groggily left the state of sleep in favor of a state of anger. The moment he regained any semblance of consciousness, the first and only thing that came to his mind was the humiliating defeat he'd suffered at the hands of the queen. He grunted as he stirred.

"Took you long enough to wake up," Mozenrath's voice cut through the darkness.

The Huntsman forced his eyes open. He was lying on one of the beds in the castle of New Home, and Mozenrath was standing over him. To the side, a nightstand held a dragon skull and a balaclava, and the Huntsman realized they'd been removed and his face was exposed. He quickly raised a gloved hand to his bald, stern-featured head, which was marked with the edge of his crimson dragon-shaped birthmark.

"Y'know, I just don't understand why you want to cover up a face like that," Mozenrath teased.

"The mouse," the Huntsman growled. "She…"

"Was either destroyed by Claymores or driven out of her own castle, just like the rest of them," Mozenrath affirmed. "The Datascape and the Cornerstone are ours."

"I should have been the one to retrieve the Cornerstone," the Huntsman seethed. "I was there! The throne was in my sights! If I ever see that mouse again…"

"She'll die, right?" Mozenrath offered his right hand; there was a glass of pulply liquid in it. "I know you're not a fan of monster things, but there's a healing factor to this."

The Huntsman struggled to sit up, grasping at the glass and pouring it down his throat. Only when the glass was empty did he ask, "And what is this?"

"Some sort of cider made out of spiders."

"It figures." The Huntsman slammed the glass down onto the table; he had to admit it had made him feel much more energized. He then took the balaclava into his hands and began wrapping it around his head once more.

"I meant it when I asked," Mozenrath asserted. "Why don't you ever take those things off?"

"Because my face is not as important as the marks of the clan," the Huntsman replied. "All who see me must know that I am death to dragons."

"And here I was thinking it was some kind of secret identity protection."

"In the midst of New York, one needs that advantage as well," the Huntsman admitted. "My face was shown to those who did business with me during the daytime hours."

"And what did they call you?"

"It isn't important." The Huntsman settled his helmet back on.

"For what it's worth, we all had a bad day," Mozenrath informed the Huntsman. "Wuya, Mim, Aghoul, and myself had an unfortunate run-in with three Keybearers. They caught us off guard. That's the ONLY reason they're not dead right now. And as soon as your half of the faction was brought home, Roman started complaining about some injury he took to the chest from one of the Claymores and wouldn't be QUIET until we poured a gallon of cider down his throat."

"I suppose you want us to concentrate on the victory," the Huntsman grunted.

"We might as well," Mozenrath reminded him. "After all, you did leave Disney Castle overrun with Claymores AND Heartless. Not to mention that with the Cornerstone gone, Maleficent will probably want to put in an appearance over there, making their day worse and showing her what WE'RE capable of. And more importantly, we now have a database with information on every world in existence…and one of the twelve artifacts we need for our grand spell."

The Huntsman was silent, staring straight ahead at the wall.

"We also found a mansion in Twilight Town that could make a good alternate base," Mozenrath went on.

Still silence.

"Look. If it makes you feel any better, I promise you that I'll get you one really good magical kill to score. I'll set it up, and you deal the coup de grace. Sound fair?"

"I suppose" was all the Huntsman said.

"Now you can sit around here and mope," Mozenrath told him, "or you can come out and see the fruit of our labor."

The Huntsman slid off the bed, following Mozenrath out into the Judgment Hall. It had been converted not into a dancefloor but into a room of spellcasting. An intricate web had been carved into the floor; twelve lines ran to the edges. The green box containing the miniaturized Cornerstone of Light sat on the first line. Mim, Wuya, Aghoul, Roman, Snatcher, and Yzma surrounded the carving.

"One down," Mozenrath remarked. "Eleven to go."

Snatcher glanced over at Roman. "You're feeling better, I take it?"

"Much," Roman responded.

"What exactly was the password to stop the Claymores, anyhow?"

Roman laughed. "I have NO idea. I just pressed a bunch of random keys in a random order and saved it. I couldn't have stopped those things if I wanted to!"

...

The evacuees of Disney Castle stared forlornly at the building from the outer courtyard. Inside, they could still hear the Claymores firing blankly.

The sound of six approaching feet alerted them to the presence of the assistance Goofy had called for. "What happened?" Sora asked breathlessly; Riku and Kairi followed close behind him.

"We had to fight Heartless to get here," Riku commented. "Too many Heartless. Something happened to the Cornerstone, didn't it?"

Mickey, Minnie, Donald, Goofy, and the other evacuees all turned to look at the trinity of Keybearers. "Somethin' happened, all right," Mickey confirmed. "The Cornerstone is gone. The castle's overrun with Claymores, and the Datascape is in the wrong hands!"

"But how?" Sora asked in shock.

"Four no-good villains!" Donald stomped his foot for emphasis.

"Hang on," Sora replied. "Were they a purple-haired witch, a red-haired woman, a purple guy, and a sorcerer in blue?"

Mickey shook his head. "Nope. That doesn't sound like 'em."

"There must be even more evildoers on the loose than we thought!" Minnie wailed.

"What can we do?" Riku asked. "Fight the Heartless here? Shut down the Claymores?"

Mickey shook his head. "We can take care of things here. At least everyone in the castle got out before the Claymores could do too much damage. We don't even know if the Claymores can be shut down, but we're gonna try."

"But what does that mean for us?" Kairi asked.

"It means we're going after the villains who did this," Riku resolved.

"But how do we know where to look for them?" Sora asked.

"They gave us a hint," Mickey replied. "They told us they came from another world. I don't know how much of what they said was true and how much was a lie, but at the very least, you can start looking on the world they brought up. It was called Remnant."


	8. Dust in the Wind

8\. Dust in the Wind

Mozenrath had made short work of bringing the Datascape to life in the Hotlands laboratory, inserting the disc into one of the computer terminals and using magical projections to create multiple screens on which he could put information regarding multiple worlds. It was a digital, colorful version of his makeshift study in the throne room with its now-obsolete papers pinned up on the walls. Since obtaining the Datascape, Mozenrath was enthralled by, almost addicted to his wealth of information. He couldn't even really filter out what was and wasn't relevant. He just wanted to see, to know, to dream. Every byte deeper into the data revealed more worlds, names he'd never heard of before – worlds with strange names, like "Abarat" and "Monstropolis," and even one called "The World of Twelve," of all things – and notes about what in them was magical and what was otherwise crucially important to infrastructure. Now, instead of hours in the throne room, he spent hours poring over this information in the laboratory, barely paying attention to his associates coming in and out to fine-tune their weapons or work up some other scientific wonder until the hour that Yzma roughly seized him by the back of the collar and dragged him out of the room. It was only because he liked her so much that he didn't force her to let go by trying to melt off her face.

"What are you DOING?" he growled roughly.

"You haven't slept," Yzma told him. "You haven't eaten. And you haven't said a word to any of us. Do you have any idea of how many things Mim has destroyed because you weren't there to keep an eye on her?"

"It's not my job to be the Mim Police."

"We're all going down to a local bar for a karaoke night."

"You're KIDDING me," Mozenrath groaned.

"It's not as though you've found anything productive for us to do in all that mess!" Yzma hissed.

"I didn't think Roman could show his face in public without the police jumping down his throat," Mozenrath pointed out.

"About that," Yzma sighed. "He and Snatcher have worked up a…plan."

...

Finding a white gown that fit Roman Torchwick was surprisingly not as hard as one would think. Finding a wig of glossy white hair and styling it up into curls pinned at the top of the scalp was even easier. The difficult part of dressing Roman as a woman in order to earn him a dual identity, as Snatcher soon found out, was getting his face to look different. It took him almost too long to realize that because Roman wore eyeliner and mascara daily, keeping those components made his eyes recognizable. Only when Snatcher completely wiped Roman's eyes clean and added nothing but a glittery silver shadow did he see a difference.

Roman hadn't protested at the idea one bit. In fact, he'd welcomed it enthusiastically. His exact wording had been along the lines of "Just imagine the looks on their faces when they get an eyeful of the TorchCHICK!"

To which Snatcher had responded, "I truly hope that isn't the alias you're running with."

Now, Roman's eyes were closed as Snatcher fussed with the shadow on their lids. "How's it look now?" Roman asked.

"Less like you," Snatcher told him. "Which is what we wanted." He set down the shadow, wiping the remains of it off his finger and picking up a brush. Applying rouge – or, as they called it here, "blush" – was so much simpler on this world than it was in Snatcher's point of origin. He gently dusted it over Roman's cheekbones, highlighting them. As he did so, he couldn't help but think about how Roman had quite fine facial features, admittedly pleasing to the eye.

"But am I sexy?" Roman asked teasingly.

That question was a loaded gun. From Snatcher's viewpoint, the answer was yes. And that only became all the more clear the more he worked at close range like this.

"Enough for our purposes," Snatcher said briskly. "Now don't speak." He uncapped a tube of lipstick.

Thoughts about his associate's attractiveness certainly had no place in the scheming room or on the battlefield, Snatcher resigned. Besides, he was used to taking such thoughts and sealing them away. Back in Cheesebridge, they'd all guessed the truth about him: that he found the sight of a beautiful man a far more enticing prospect than that of a beautiful woman. That became a point of gossip about him, and combined with his station, the way he looked compared to most of the upper class, and later in life, his obvious ambition – why did that seem to scare most people away? Did they not have ambitions of their own, and even less savory than killing trolls? – it had contributed to making him an outcast. The rumor mill churned based on a few slip-ups he'd made speaking to Lord Portley-Rind in their younger days, back when the redheaded lord was actually attractive: a trait that had been dulled by his dismissiveness and his tendency to always be the only thing standing between Snatcher and what he wanted. But while Snatcher had a thick skin off which most gossip could bounce, he didn't dare confirm out loud that he was, in fact, a homosexual. That would have gotten him banned from the Tasting Room for life. He was aware of what a proper man should and should not think, and while the gossip was strong, it was still only gossip.

But here, things were different. (He forced himself to concentrate on this internal monologue as he swiped the lipstick over Roman's shapely mouth, then dabbed the excess gently away with a tissue. Another process that had been simplified on this world.) Here, no one jeered him for wearing the gown of Madame Frou Frou, which he intended to bring out to this pub (or "bar," he supposed) that Yzma had found. And they'd seen a lot of things Snatcher wouldn't have believed possible, let alone acceptable: magic, mice that ruled kingdoms, loopholes against death itself. Perhaps they wouldn't judge him for being what he was. Perhaps another one of them was the same. Perhaps that one was Torchwick –

But as much as it seemed they'd known each other for a long time, it really hadn't been that long at all. Roman was only an associate. No, something a little better than that: a friend. The entire WHAM ARMY was an incredible leap away from the likes of Misters Trout, Pickles, and Gristle: in Snatcher's eyes, far more competent and more appreciative of the concept of having a dream. Roman Torchwick in particular was loud, reckless, and as violent as they came, but as proper as Snatcher had once fancied himself, he liked that his companion was willing to get his hands dirty and had so much fun in it. Roman didn't let dreams slip away from him; he walked right up to them and threatened them into submission at gunpoint, much like he did with anything else. He understood strength and weakness, and working with him was more often than not a joy. Yes, Snatcher relented, Roman was a friend. But so was everyone else in the group, surprisingly. Snatcher could only recall ever finding one person at any given time who he felt deserved his respect, let alone friendship. He supposed it simply came of there being one on every world – or, in the case of Mozenrath and Aghoul, two. But what it all added up to was that even here and now, as Snatcher capped the lipstick and put it down, he was not supposed to be thinking anything overly appreciative about Roman Torchwick's physical features. He was a friend and associate: nothing more.

"All right, then," Snatcher announced. "Have a look."

Roman opened his eyes, then turned to the mirror. Staring back at him seemed to be an altogether different person: a woman of white hair and dress, her face delicately made up. "Whoa," he said softly. "I am HOT."

"There are two more things you'll need before you're to go out like that," Snatcher warned. "First off, you'll want to do something about that voice."

"Right." Roman immediately shifted to a higher register. "How d'ya like me now, boys?"

"It'll take more than that." Snatcher couldn't fight a smirk at Roman's test run. "You'll want to speak with a completely different accent."

"Hmmm." Roman thought it over. The next words that came out of his mouth were not only in a higher range, but in an accent that the people of most Earth territories would have labeled as Russian: "What about this? Does this work?"

"Now make it softer," Snatcher commanded.

When Roman asked "Like this? This good?", it sounded as though the words were spoken by a woman.

"Perfect." Snatcher's smirk only grew wider. "And last, your name. 'Torchchick' is right out, so don't even suggest it."

"Huh." Roman stared at himself in the mirror, thinking it over. He looked at all the white that had been chosen for his palette. On Remnant, everyone was named for color in the great attempt to reclaim creativity and individuality postwar. While he hadn't been the biggest advocate of peace, he was a fan of the aesthetic, though he had to wonder exactly how individual it made you to name your children after the same thing everyone else was naming them. "Is there a word," Roman asked, "for a fire that burns so hot, it's white?"

"I believe the word you are searching for is 'incandescent.'"

"Incandescent," Roman repeated. "That is a TERRIBLE first name. Okay, last name it is. First name's still gotta be fire, though." He snapped his fingers. "Got it."

"Let's hear it."

Roman spread his arms. "Fiammetta Incandescent."

Snatcher loved it. "It's absolutely perfect. Quite…you."

"Thank you."

"Now, out with you!" Snatcher playfully stepped behind Roman and shoved at his shoulders to get him out of the room. "I've got to change yet. It's time for Madame Frou Frou to make her debut appearance in Knightdock, after all!"

...

Mozenrath stared at "Fiammetta" in confusion for a moment before just shrugging it off. "Just don't get recognized."

"Where's Yzma?" Mim asked; she, Aghoul, Wuya, and the Huntsman had met up with Roman and Mozenrath in Judgment Hall, careful not to step on or dislodge the boxed Cornerstone.

"I'm guessing she's trying on the fifth excessively sequined outfit," Mozenrath sighed.

"I could have just helped her with that," Wuya pointed out; the Heylin witch was wearing a tight-fitting purple gown with a slitted skirt and a glittering, plunging neckline. She'd conjured it and its matching amethyst jewelry herself.

"You and your clothes!" Mim huffed. "I still don't understand why you make such a big deal out of it! Waste of time, if you ask me!"

"I'm inclined to agree," the Huntsman huffed.

"You realize that helmet's just going to draw attention," Mozenrath reminded him.

"No one in this world knows of its significance," the Huntsman replied. "Therefore, it remains."

Mozenrath never regretted recruiting the Huntsman. The man was talented as he was ruthless. However, he was constantly reminded that the Huntsman was a great enigma. He knew the basics of why the man sought to eradicate magical creatures, but it always seemed there was something more than the reasons he gave, some personal grudge he wasn't about to divulge. And beyond slaying dragons and their ilk, what else was there to the Huntsman? He'd adopted his profession as his name; was that really all there was to him? No matter how much Mozenrath pored over the Datascape, he knew he wouldn't find the answers there to what lay inside the Huntsman's heart and mind. He did theorize, however, that the Huntsman's reluctance to removing his helmet and balaclava had to do with the fact that no one in the room but Mozenrath had seen him without it, and he wasn't willing to change that.

"Waste of time?" Roman snorted. "Try telling Archie that. He's putting together a bit of a spectacle as we speak. Oh, and by the way, this 'waste of time' is what gets me out on the town without being recognized as public enemy number one."

Finally, Snatcher and Yzma strode into the hall side by side, clad in blue and purple respectively, with more than enough sequins and ruffles. Their matching sets of almost dangerously high heels clicked against the Judgment Hall floor. "We're ready when you are," Yzma announced.

"You mean half an hour ago?" Aghoul responded. That just earned him a smack on the back of the head by Yzma.

...

The bar that Yzma had located was out of the way, but not quite on the limits of Knightdock. The atmosphere was warm and cheery, with humans and monsters alike clinking their glasses in toasts while signing up in alternation for the karaoke. When Mozenrath and his seven associates entered, they turned some heads momentarily, but soon everyone went back to minding their own business, as well as the business of whoever happened to be on the stage at the moment.

Mozenrath had never liked this sort of establishment. It was simply too loud, with too many people being too happy. A quiet night in with a book was more his style. But he really hadn't eaten since discovering the Datascape, and the bar was warm with the smell of fried food. He doubted his ability to order a quality Khoresh Ghormeh Sabzi, but he was ready to try whatever was on the menu to quiet the growling in his stomach.

He and the Huntsman claimed a large table in the back of the bar while the other six crowded around the signup list for karaoke. They'd all had access to enough radios to have heard and taken to heart some favorite songs.

"I don't understand what makes them so eager to sing," the Huntsman sighed. "It isn't as though we're being productive."

"I knew there was a reason I liked you," Mozenrath replied. "If I wasn't starving to death, I wouldn't be here." He then stopped to think it over. "Why are YOU here?"

"It seemed disloyal to refuse to come," the Huntsman admitted. "As our leader, I would think you would have been all the more concerned with giving them your time. After all, if they should decide they don't need you…"

"Wuya has been known to be a chronic backstabber," Mozenrath admitted. "I suppose I should be a little more concerned with mutiny." He watched Mim and Yzma fight over the pen for the signup sheet and found himself smiling. "There is something kind of enjoyable about them, though."

"I suppose," the Huntsman replied blandly.

"You suppose?"

"For some reason, I haven't turned my back on all of you. Perhaps it's simply that I fear you will put me back where you found me. Perhaps it is more."

"What did they have lined up for you, anyway?" Mozenrath asked. "In Tartarus, I mean."

"I should not have been there," the Huntsman replied. "I was truly dead, but I was noble. Only now would I consider myself worthy of Tartarus."

"Because you joined up with us?"

"Precisely."

"And is it worth it so far?" Mozenrath asked.

The Huntsman was silent an indeterminably long time before answering, "Stunningly, I believe it has been."

Mozenrath was about to bring up that the Huntsman was an expert at dodging questions before reiterating that he wanted to know what sort of punishment the Huntsman had suffered at the hands of Hades, but he was interrupted when the rest of the gaggle of villains came back to the table to announce that they'd finished sign-ups. Food and drinks were ordered; Roman tensed up while waiting for Snatcher to pick something, not wanting to deal with another allergenic fit. He let out a sigh of relief when a tray of oysters on the half shell was selected instead. Money was no object, as Roman had seen fit to stock the entire group up by terrorizing the local banks just for outings such as this. Mozenrath pondered the beverage list; while the others were all calling for glasses of alcoholic drinks of various potency, Mozenrath preferred not to dull his senses so. They weren't big on wine and beer where he came from, anyhow. He opted for a coffee instead.

"Penelope Frou Frou" was the first to get called up for karaoke, and while the food was laid out on the table, the others watched Snatcher belt out a soprano ballad with staggering high notes. He hit every one of them perfectly. At some point, Mim noticed the absolutely flabbergasted look on Roman's face. "Fiammetta?" she asked cautiously.

"Nobody told me he had a voice like an angel," Roman whispered, just low enough for the others at the table to hear.

As more and more were called up to the stage, they noticed a rather interesting phenomenon taking place with Mozenrath. While at first he was thoroughly disinterested in the karaoke altogether, he began slowly applauding each of his associates after a song, but then getting more and more enthusiastic about it. After Yzma finished up a sultry number about wanting to be evil, Mozenrath outright stood up and gave her a standing ovation, whistling. Everyone in the bar stared at him.

"What's going on?" Aghoul whispered to Wuya, more than a little concerned.

"I…don't know," Wuya replied.

Her eyes then flicked to Mozenrath's drinking mug. During the days when all he'd been surrounded by was Mamluks, he had no way of knowing how his behavior changed when he was under the influence of such things as caffeine. Now, however, his friends were seeing the result of what happened when you gave the sorcerer coffee.

He fully leapt over the table, planting his foot in Aghoul's plate and kicking over the Huntsman's pint glass, to go scrawl his name on the karaoke signups.

Before Mozenrath could take the stage, he had to wait his turn after "Fiammetta Incandescent." Roman tried his very best to keep up his effeminate, accented voice while singing. However, no matter what voice he used, it didn't change the fact that he was consistently off-key. Mozenrath booed and threw his coffee cup at the stage; Yzma, inspired, joined in the booing. Roman threw a glare in their direction, but refused to abandon the stage until his song was done.

As Mozenrath watched and listened to the horrible spectacle, feeling far too energetic for his own good, he took a moment to consider the lyrics being sung. For whatever reason, Roman had picked out a weepy ballad about how nothing lasted forever and everything in existence was just dust in the wind. Something about the phrase clicked for Mozenrath. Dust. Roman Torchwick. Suddenly, he knew! The answer to one of his conundrums had been staring him in the face all along!

But before he could make his realization known, Mozenrath was called to the stage. Excitedly, he teleported there, shoving Roman out of the way so that he could begin loudly belting an emo-pop number about taking back crowns and being so close to your dream, you could taste it.

"You have to admit, he's surprisingly good," Wuya remarked as she watched.

"At singing, yes," Yzma replied. "Dancing, not so much."

To prove Yzma's point, Mozenrath got his ankles tangled in the microphone cord and fell right over. Being on the floor didn't slow down his song one bit.

...

After a massive caffeine crash, Mozenrath awoke with a throbbing headache in his own bed. He couldn't remember if he'd put himself there or if someone else had brought him in.

Xerxes hovered over him worriedly. "Mozenrath okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Mozenrath grunted. "Last night was the LAST night I convince them to bring me out for…karaoke."

He rolled over in bed only to be struck, like a cold douse of water, with the realization he'd made last night during Roman's song. He scrambled out of bed. How hadn't he made the connection earlier? All things considered, he thought, he really should have thought of this before the Cornerstone of Light.

...

In a few moments, he had the other seven arranged in Judgment Hall to hear him out.

"The element of earth," Mozenrath began. "We're looking for a pure concentration of it. A magical concentration. A supernatural manifestation of earth. Now, what is earth?" He waited to see if anyone would chime in with an answer.

"Dirt," Wuya supplied after a while.

"You know, there was a team at Beacon called DERT," Roman recalled. "And oh, boy, were they a bunch of screw-ups."

"Yes, dirt," Mozenrath confirmed. "Or, as some people like to call it, dust."

"Wait." Roman blinked a few times. "Are you going where I think you're going with this?"

"Capital-D Dust," Mozenrath confirmed. "Powders and crystals that correspond to various magics. All in the form of earth. If we gather enough of it, it might just be what we need to fill in that twelfth of our little web."

"Already covered," Roman stated casually. "Remember my little stash? All we need to do is pop on over to Vale and pick it up."

"Will all eight of us be necessary for this mission?" the Huntsman asked.

"I want us to carry out as much as possible," Mozenrath answered. "So yes. Our next destination will be the kingdom of Vale."

...

Vale was shrouded in gray, the sun blotted out from the sky by overhanging clouds. While the humans who still lived within the kingdom tried to do their best to go about business as usual, they were hindered by the hordes of Grimm that entered the city en masse, invited in by their fears. Many had fled, leaving the city to be half populated by Grimm. The few people who remained were the brave and the strong, trying to scrap together what could be salvaged of the city.

From their vantage point on a rooftop, Mozenrath, Roman, Snatcher, Mim, Yzma, Aghoul, Wuya, and the Huntsman surveyed it all. "So it's a bit of a fixer-upper," Roman remarked with a shrug. "But hey. It's home."

"Fixer-upper?" Mim repeated. "I LOVE it!"

"Why can't we move in HERE?" Aghoul asked Mozenrath. "It's suitably dark and gloomy!"

"If you want to move here and deal with the hordes of monsters breaking down the walls, be my guest," Mozenrath offered.

"How did it get like this, anyway?" Wuya asked. She fired a glance at Roman: "Tell me you had something to do with this."

"Well, SOMETHING, yes," Roman confirmed. "This was actually my old boss' idea. She sent out her three little minions to rope me and a bunch of Faunus into doing all this. It was a great idea in theory. I got to lead an air strike, gun down a few ships full of soldiers, set a horde of killer robots loose on the general public…good times. Real good times."

"But then one of those monsters ate you." Mozenrath gestured upward to where a pair of enormous Nevermores circled overhead, their black wings standing out starkly against the gray sky.

When Roman looked up at them, he momentarily flinched. Hoping no one had seen that, he went on, "Well, there were a few flaws in the plan. Ours is a lot better."

"Do we have to worry about this boss of yours?" Snatcher asked.

"We shouldn't," Roman responded. "This should just be a simple mission. We get in, we get Dust, we get outta dodge. And it's all in the warehouse we're standing on. If we make this quick, we shouldn't have to deal with anything too unsavory."

Mozenrath teleported them all to the ground, and Roman strode toward the warehouse doors. "Ladies and gentlemen," he announced. "And Ayam Aghoul."

"What did I ever do to you?" Aghoul huffed.

"May I present to you…" Roman dragged open one enormous door and gestured inside the warehouse. "Dust paradise."

The looks on his associates' faces tipped Roman off immediately to the fact that something was wrong. "Huh…?" He stepped around the door to take a look inside the warehouse, expecting to see the piles of crates he'd been able to nip the ammo that loaded his and Snatcher's weapons from.

But the storeroom was completely bare.


	9. A Little Birdie Told Me

9\. A Little Birdie Told Me

"Okay," Roman commented at last. "That's…not good."

Yzma tapped her foot impatiently. "If you lied to us…"

"He didn't," Mozenrath said sternly. "This storeroom was full of Dust earlier. It's been moved."

"By WHO?" Roman was now livid. "I was the ONLY one who knew where this was!"

"What about that boss you keep bringing up?" Wuya asked.

Roman clenched his teeth. "Cinder. She shouldn't have CARED enough."

"Is Cinder the boss?" Mim asked.

Roman shook his head. "No. More like the second-in-command. Trust me, you don't want to know about the REAL boss."

"It looks like Cinder got the drop on us," Wuya hissed.

"Maybe," Roman mused. "Or…maybe not. There's one place we could go for information. I'm not sure if it survived the chaos, but if it did, SOMEONE there will know what we're looking for, and for the right price, we can get where all my Dust is out of them."

"Then lead the way," Mozenrath commanded. "And while you do, tell us more about this…Cinder."

"Oh, I'll tell you more about the whole outfit," Roman promised, turning to walk down the street. "Just keep to the sides and don't engage any of the Grimm. Even you, Skullface. I know they're just asking to be made into new helmets, but we don't need to attract attention."

A crow passed overhead: not a Nevermore, but an ordinary sized bird. As it cawed, Roman felt a sudden chill come on. This was frustrating. The last thing he needed was for that last Nevermore from his aerial battle in the Remnant skies to have given him a fear of something as silly as birds.

The crow landed on a rooftop, its shining eyes watching the motley group of villains pass through the streets. This was all wrong. Roman Torchwick was supposed to be dead. The Grimm were supposed to be the biggest threat left in Vale. If Roman was not only alive, but moving about and making schemes…that spelled trouble.

Maybe that girl shouldn't have left home after all, the crow thought. He would trail this group a while to make sure of his suspicions.

...

"So first of all," Roman explained as the eight paraded down a back alley, "there's Cinder Fall. See, unlike on Mozenrath's world, where sorcerers seem to be a dime a dozen, here, we only have four people who can actually use magic. One for each season. All women. Cinder wanted to be the Fall Maiden, but when she tried to kill the previous Fall Maiden for the power, she botched up the job and only got half of it. So a lot of what we were doing was trying to get her close enough to the girl to finish up and get the rest of it. You know what you get when you're the Fall Maiden, by the way? Fire. Lots and lots of fire. That was kind of Cinder's mode of operation. Now, I never saw if she did manage to get the rest of ol' Fall's powers. If she did…well, I'd say watch out, but I'm betting the eight of us could put the smackdown on her.

"Then there's Emerald Sustrai. More of a petty thief than anything. Her Semblance let her basically hack your mind and give you bad trips. She could make you think you were fighting your worst enemy when you were really standing in front of your best friend."

"Was she one of the Maidens?" Mozenrath asked.

"Nope," Roman replied.

"Then how could she use that kind of magic?" Mozenrath continued.

"Because Semblances aren't magic," Roman told him. "You didn't notice how I was able to get past the Cornerstone, but you weren't? Yours is magic. I just have Aura."

"And what does your Aura let you do?"

"Need to know basis, Righty. Need to know basis. But everybody's lets them do something a little different, and Green's – Emerald's – is for hacking minds. No idea what happened to her, either," Roman continued.

"Next, you've got Mercury Black. The most annoying little shit you'll ever meet. Way too many daddy issues, too. Apparently the guy cut off his legs to replace them with weapons. Or maybe Black did that himself. I didn't pay attention to his weepy backstory. Anyway, he doesn't hack minds or throw fireballs, but if he sees you, he will literally kick your ass.

"Finally, there's Adam Taurus. Didn't really know much about the guy. He ran with the White Fang. Y'know, the Faunus. Skull-Face, you'd hate this guy. First of all, I think he'd make your kill list. And second, he and the other White Fangers went around wearing masks shaped like skulls to scare everybody, and trust me, they didn't earn them through kills. You actually made doing that COOL. And there you have it." Roman thought it over. "Actually, wait. There was…one more.

"I ran with a little illusionist called Neo. She didn't hack minds, but she could still make you think you'd seen things when you hadn't. She was the one person out of all of them I actually liked. Too bad she's probably dead now. Last I saw her, she got thrown off the edge of an airship by somebody who claimed to be the hero of the story. Right into a flock of Nevermores. Then again, she always was able to claw her way out of near-death situations. Maybe she did it again. That'd be nice. She'd fit right in with this outfit, y'know."

"But what about the boss?" Yzma insisted.

"All you need to know is two things," Roman told her. "First of all, I'm not even sure the eight of us could take her. Second, her name is Salem. Now will you stop asking?"

Yzma nodded. "That sounds like enough."

They rounded a corner only to be greeted with the sight of a spined, bearlike Grimm roaring in their faces: an Ursa. The eight were taken aback only momentarily before Mozenrath pointed out, "Huntsman, I believe I owe you a kill."

"That you do." The Huntsman withdrew the huntstaff, shoving Roman aside to take the lead. He leapt into the air, driving the huntstaff down toward the Ursa's neck. As its head severed neatly from its body, several more Ursas rounded the corner into the back street, now alerted to the fact that there was prey there.

One of the Ursas was immediately felled by a dart from Yzma's atlatl lodging in its throat. Another was cleaved in two by Aghoul's scythe. Wuya leapt over both of them to deliver a spinning kick to the back of an Ursa, felling it with her superhuman strength, before she ripped a chunk of concrete out of the street telekinetically and crunched the Grimm beneath it. Mozenrath picked an entire Ursa up with the power of his gauntlet, magically ramming it into the wall over and over until a telltale "snap" was heard. Mim met the next Ursa in the form of an equally large bear, wrestling the creature just long enough to pin it down on its back and rip out its vitals with a pink claw and a mad giggle. The last Ursa in the pack charged Snatcher with full force; Snatcher gracefully sidestepped before launching his mallet at the Ursa's head, stunning it. Once the Grimm was down. Roman planted a foot and a Cudgel barrel on its head, delivering the coup de grace.

"And you think the eight of us couldn't take your old boss," Mozenrath remarked with a proud smirk as he looked over the carnage they'd left.

"Trust me," Roman replied, lighting a victory cigarette. "But we do stand a chance against your average Huntress."

"What was that?" the Huntsman asked.

Roman took a drag from his cigarette before removing it to explain: "This world's got its own version of Huntsmen. Not NEARLY as awesome as your version. They're out to get rid of the Grimm AND people like us. They're the types that like to play hero. I'm sure you're familiar."

"Too familiar," Mozenrath and Aghoul growled as one.

"We see any of them," Roman declared, "we pull a maneuver on them like we did on those Grimm. Enough said."

He took the lead of the group once more, leading them across the now bloodied ground. The crow that had been following them decided to take his leave. He'd seen and heard enough. Circumstances had changed greatly. He'd let someone go with his blessing because he'd thought the greater evil was elsewhere. But now it seemed more attention was needed here.

...

The rest of Remnant was not so gloomy gray as Vale. The sun shone quite brightly over a wooded trail. This was the road that Sora, Riku, and Kairi found themselves walking, looking about at the thick forestation.

"So this is Remnant," Sora announced.

"It seems peaceful," Kairi commented.

Riku shook his head. "It's not. The Darkness is strong here. I can sense it."

"Huh," Sora replied. "Have you ever felt that for a whole world before? I thought you could only sense it on certain people."

"I did too," Riku admitted. "But this place…it's covered in the scent of Darkness. I've never felt anything like it before."

Not too long down the path, they realized that there were four other people walking directly toward them. From what the trio could observe, they were, from left to right: a girl dressed all in red, with dark hair; a tall, blonde boy wearing a breastplate and blue jeans; a young man of raven hair wearing a green jacket; and a short young woman with bright orange hair, wearing a pink minidress. As the group approached, the girl in red put up a hand to wave: "Hellooooooo!"

Sora returned the gesture: "Helloooooooo!"

"Looks like Sora's already made a new friend," Riku muttered with a smile.

As the two groups came close, Sora asked, "Which way does this road go?"

"It goes to Patch," the girl in red explained. "And then to Vale."

"You might not wanna go to Vale right now, though," the girl in pink warned.

"Why not?" Sora asked.

The two young men seemed taken aback by this. "Don't you watch the news?" the blonde boy asked.

"Uh…no?" Sora supplied.

"We aren't from around here," Riku explained.

"But everyone in Remnant should know what happened to Vale," the boy in green pointed out. "Or at least that something happened to it."

"Well, where are you going?" Sora asked.

The orange-haired girl thrust a fist into the sky. "ROAD TRIP TO HAVEN!"

"What's in Haven?" Sora inquired.

The four travelers exchanged looks, wondering how much they should share with these three strangers. Finally, the girl in red said, "We think…something bad. And we're going there to try and stop it."

"Maybe we should go with you," Sora suggested. He looked from Riku to Kairi to see if they agreed.

"Stopping bad things is kind of what we do," Riku chimed in.

"If there's any way we can help," Kairi added.

"You wanna help us?" The blonde boy was perplexed. "We only just met."

"It doesn't matter," Sora replied. "If you need our help, then we should give it to you. Think of it as a favor between friends."

"We're already friends now?" The blonde boy was just becoming more and more confused.

The dark-haired boy and Riku became momentarily locked in a staring contest. Each was wondering if the other's group could be trusted. Why didn't this strange trio know about the catastrophe in Vale? Why were these four so eager to get away from that kingdom, and what part had they played in whatever tragedy had gripped it? But Riku couldn't sense any obvious darkness among these four, and the boy in green didn't really have a good reason to see the three travelers as dangerous, so they both relaxed their guard for the time being.

"Well…we might become friends," Sora suggested. "Whaddaya say? Room for three more?"

"I don't see why not!" the girl in red replied enthusiastically. She then looked to her own companions for approval: "Guys?"

"All right," the blonde boy relented. "We can stick together for a little while at least."

"The more, the merrier!" the orange-haired girl chirped.

The black-haired boy simply nodded.

Sora stepped forward, offering his right hand. "I'm Sora," he introduced. "What's your name?"

"Ruby Rose!" the girl in red replied eagerly, clasping his hand in her own and pumping it once.

"Riku," Riku introduced with a nod toward the black-haired boy and the girl in pink.

"Lie Ren," the boy responded with a similar nod.

"And I'm Nora Valkyrie!" Nora rushed forward, grabbing Riku's hand away from his side so she could shake it repeatedly with force. "Nice to meetcha, Riku!"

Kairi stepped forward to face the tallest boy. "I'm Kairi," she greeted, extending her own hand.

"Uh…" The boy got a very good look at Kairi for the first time; his gaze had mostly been directed toward Sora since the three had turned up. She wasn't just beautiful. That red hair and something in the way she carried herself reminded the young man of someone he had known not too long ago; someone he had once loved. And yet, for all she appeared the same, there was something different about her, a sparkle in her eye, the curve of her smile. He felt his face heating up just looking at her. "…Arc," he sputtered at last. "I'm Arc. Arc? JAUNE. My name is Jaune. Arc is my last name. Heheh…meet to nice you. NICE TO MEET YOU!" He gently took Kairi's hand (noting it was very soft) and shook it gingerly before letting go, hoping she wasn't taking notice of his obvious blush.

She just giggled. "Nice to meet you too, Jaune!"

"Well?" Sora offered. "Should we get going?" He, Riku, and Kairi did an about-face to fall in step alongside Ruby, Jaune, Ren, and Nora.

"Onward!" Ruby announced. "To Haven!"

As the seven set out, Kairi asked, "What happened in Vale, anyway? Is that your kingdom?"

"It was our kingdom," Ruby confirmed. "Right now, we still don't know exactly what happened. Everyone was all excited for the Vytal Festival and the tournament in Amity Coliseum, and everybody was having a great time, until…it all just suddenly went wrong."

"Enemies of our kingdom slipped in without us noticing," Ren clarified. "They set up schemes to cause the people of Vale to fall into a panic. They fixed matches of the tournament so that the people we trusted looked like they were hurting other people without reason. That's what caused the Grimm to overrun the kingdom."

"And they fixed it to look like Atlas was attacking us by having their robots go rogue!" Nora chimed in. "But we KNOW General Ironwood would never do that! The bad guys hacked the mainframe somehow!"

"It wasn't 'hacking the mainframe,'" Ren corrected.

"Atlas was framed!" Nora went on. "IRONWOOD WAS FRAMED!"

"And after all this, we still don't know what they want," Ruby concluded. "They managed to fill Vale up with invading Grimm. But why? What do they get out of all of it? The only person I could ask said it wasn't about gaining anything, and he was just trying to survive because the real world wasn't fair. He said he joined the other bad guys because he didn't have a choice. And for a person like him to think there's no other choice or a way to survive because of those other people? What does that even mean?" She had to pause then, blinking hard so no tears would escape. Sora glanced over at Ruby, and he could tell there was an extreme grief embedded in her heart. Riku looked to her as well, and without even asking, he knew that somehow, she'd been struck more personally than just her hometown being invaded and pillaged. Something had happened to leave a great scar across her, and she was doing her best to keep her chin up in spite of it.

"That's awful," Sora told Ruby. "Just…one thing, though. What are Grimm?"

That caused the four travelers from Vale to stop dead in their tracks. "How do you not know what GRIMM are?" Nora asked in awe.

"There are Grimm all over the world," Jaune added.

"What," Nora went on, "do you come from another WORLD or something?"

Sora, Riku, and Kairi were silent for a while. Then, at last, Sora answered, "Well…about that…what if I said yes?"

"OH MY GOSH YOU'RE FROM ANOTHER WORLD!" Nora pointed at Sora in awe, her arm shaking with excitement.

"Really?" Ruby had her doubts. "That's a little…"

"Far-fetched," Jaune supplied.

"Though it would explain how you didn't know what happened to Vale," Ren realized.

"I know it's a little hard to believe," Riku said, "but there's a lot more out there than most people know."

"Hmm." Ruby thought it over. She looked from Sora to Riku to Kairi. Then, after much deliberation, she announced, "I believe you."

"Why?" Jaune asked her.

"There's just…something about them," Ruby replied. "They seem honest."

Ruby had thought that about Emerald Sustrai and Mercury Black once upon a time, Jaune recalled, but he knew better than to play that card. He did have to admit that they seemed genuine enough. And while the idea of other worlds sounded preposterous at first, he didn't have absolute proof that they didn't exist somewhere out there. Only time would tell. And deep down, he hoped that Kairi most of all wasn't a liar. "Okay," he relented. "I won't argue. So do you just go around to other worlds saving people who need help?"

"Basically, yeah," Sora confirmed. "That's what Keybearers do. Well, it's what they're SUPPOSED to do, anyway."

"What do you mean 'Keybearer'?" Ren asked.

Sora, Riku, and Kairi extended their hands, and three Keyblades appeared in synchrony. "This is what we mean," Riku explained.

"I've never seen swords like those before!" Ruby's eyes sparkled.

"They're not just any swords," Sora told her. "They're keys to the hearts of worlds. We can do stuff with them that you can't just do with ordinary swords."

"SO COOL!" Ruby squeaked.

"Thank you!" Kairi laughed.

The loud caw of a crow echoed through the sky, and the attention of the seven was drawn upward. They saw the dark bird wheel through the air and come to land somewhere in the adjacent forest. What they didn't see was that when the crow landed, he transformed, hidden by the cover of the woods. He became a human: a lanky man dressed in gray and black, with a red cape, cropped dark hair, and a good bit of scruff on his chin.

"Tell us more about the kingdoms of this world," Riku demanded as the seven set up their walk again. "You mentioned another one called Atlas."

"We've already told you about Vale," Ren answered.

"Atlas is a kingdom with a strong military," Jaune added. "They sent their ships to Vale to try and protect it. But, like Nora said, somebody took over their technology to make it look like they were attacking Vale. They were already suspicious, anyway. Everybody wondered what was with all the soldiers and guns they were bringing."

"But Atlas isn't bad," Ruby insisted. "I have a…a friend who lives there now."

"Now, Mistral, on the other hand," Nora picked up, "is where you'll find Haven Academy. That's where we're going because we got a tip that the bad guys were there!"

"It wasn't much of a tip," Jaune went on, "but it's all we have."

"Not exactly," a gruff voice sounded from behind the group. The seven turned to see the red-caped man standing behind them, giving them a stern look.

"Uncle Qrow?" Ruby said by way of confused greeting.

"So this is where you've been all this time." Qrow's stern expression softened. "Shoulda known you wouldn't just lie back and wait for something to happen. Taiyang's probably having a fit wondering where you are, y'know."

"I left a note," Ruby said meekly. "Are you here to take me back home?"

"We were all going to take good care of her!" Nora insisted.

"Take you back home?" Qrow repeated. "That depends. See, your dad would probably think it's too dangerous for you to go out looking for trouble. But I kinda find it admirable. You remind me of a real smart kid I used to know. Tough, too."

"You're talking about yourself, aren't you?" Ruby teased.

"How'd you guess?" Qrow replied. "Anyway, if this is what you think is right, then you can keep going. If you want to stay SAFE, you can turn around and go right back to your homes and families. But there's something else I thought you should know about. The enemy MIGHT be in Mistral. But one of our enemies DEFINITELY turned back up in Vale, and he's got company."

"What are you talking about?" Jaune asked.

"I don't know how," Qrow informed the group, "but it turns out Roman Torchwick isn't dead after all."

This news settled over Ruby, Jaune, Ren, and Nora like a heavy rain cloud. "But…I saw him get eaten by a Grimm that blew up," Ruby said softly.

"Who's Roman Torchwick?" Sora asked.

"One of the baddest of the bad guys," Nora answered. "He's a thief, a murderer, a vandal, and all-around nasty!"

"Did he find Neo?" Ruby asked. "Or did he join back up with Mercury or Emerald?"

Qrow shook his head. "He's got a new team now. Seven people I've never seen before. All I know is that they can take out a pack of Ursas in about ten minutes, and they wouldn't hesitate to do the same to any Huntress or Huntsman they came across."

"Hang on," Sora realized. "That makes eight. We came here looking for four bad guys who were messing with our friends, but that was right after we fought four different bad guys. We didn't know if they were related, but what if they're all working together?"

"They're bad news," Qrow went on. "I wouldn't want you to take 'em on and lose. But knowing you…I knew you wouldn't want something like that to pass by without you realizing it."

"Do you know what they're after?" Ruby asked.

"Dust," Qrow answered. "They found the same store we did, and it's only a matter of time before they figure out where we confiscated it. Now that you know, I guess you have a decision to make."

Ruby nodded. "I think I know what I want to do. And it's probably not what you want me to do."

"I want you to do what you think is right," Qrow reminded her. "Just so long as you keep moving forward and never stop thinking."

"Is that all you came here to tell me?" Ruby asked.

"Well…there is one more thing," Qrow responded, stepping closer to Ruby. "I wanted to let you know that whatever happens…" He ruffled his niece-in-law's hair. "I love ya, kid."

"I love you too, Uncle Qrow," Ruby replied.

"AAAWWWW!" Sora and Nora cooed.

"So. You made up your mind?" Qrow asked.

Ruby turned to look at her six traveling companions. "I want to go back to Vale," she announced. "Haven was a lead, but we weren't sure it was the right one. We KNOW what's going on in Vale now. And we can't just let Torchwick run around taking what he wants."

"Wherever you go," Ren told Ruby, "we're right beside you."

"And so are we," Riku added.

Sora turned to speak to Qrow: "Hey, thanks for letting us know about – "

But by then, Qrow was gone. The caw of a bird echoed through the air.

"Okaaaaaaaay," Sora sighed.

"He does that sometimes," Ruby told him. "It used to weird us out when we were kids."

"'Us'?" Kairi repeated.

"My sister and me," Ruby answered solemnly. "We should really get going."

Riku figured that whatever had happened to Ruby back in Vale, it had involved her sister. That was the only explanation for her quick change of subject.

As the seven did an about-face, Kairi noticed Jaune lagging behind. She fell into step beside him. "This is still a little weird for you, isn't it?"

"The whole 'people from other worlds' thing was weird enough," Jaune told her. "Now apparently there's a dead guy running around alive."

"It can take some time to get used to," Kairi told him. "I always wanted to know about other worlds. All three of us did. But it didn't really become…real until we had everything shown to us. When we got the Keyblades. I thought I was ready to see what was out there, but I didn't have any idea of what it was like until Sora and Riku showed me. You do get used to it, though."

"I hope so," Jaune told her. "It seems like every time I have anything figured out nowadays, it changes."

"Same here," Kairi admitted. "Maybe one of these days, we'll get it right."

"Yeah," Jaune agreed. "Maybe we will."

...

Hei "Junior" Xiong didn't know, sometimes, why he still kept up maintenance on the club. No one ever seemed to drop by anymore, and for good reason. Who wanted to drink, dance, be merry, and swap information when the streets were filled with rampaging Grimm? Most of his staff had even left for better opportunities. The Malachite twins still stuck around, thank goodness. But Junior's regular DJ had made for the hills, and the music was now in the hands of pretty much the only regular patron Junior's establishment had left. He looked up to where the woman was on the turntables, filling the cavernous room with haunting sounds before leaving the table to dance to her own choice of tune.

There was a time, Junior lamented, that he'd actually been one of the most powerful men in Vale. Even the likes of Roman Torchwick came to him looking for hired guns and tip-offs. The money and influence came rolling into Junior's hands without him ever having to get them dirty. But now, he was lucky if somebody came along just looking to order a blooming onion. At least if the blonde came back, she wouldn't have that much of his property left to ruin, but he'd heard through the grapevine that she was in no mood to come ruin his day anyway.

The doors parted, and Junior's attention was drawn to the door to see who was striding in. When he saw who was at the lead of the group, he dropped and shattered a glass. There were many people he had expected never to see cross his threshold again, but one in particular who he thought physically couldn't. And here he was, Cudgel in hand, confident as could be as he approached the counter.

"Been a while, hasn't it?" Roman Torchwick greeted. "Man, has this place ever gone to the dogs."

"You're…you're dead," Junior sputtered.

"Am I?" Roman retorted.

Junior's eyes then flickered over the seven others who had entered right after Roman. He'd never seen any of them before, and had absolutely no idea what to make of Mozenrath, Snatcher, Mim, Yzma, Aghoul, Wuya, or the Huntsman. "I see you're running with a new crowd these days," he managed at last.

"They're competent AND tolerable," Roman informed Junior. "So I won't be needing any more of your services in the henchman department."

Junior didn't want to let on how glad he was of that. He didn't have any muscle left to rent out; the Malachites wouldn't lower themselves to taking orders from Torchwick, and there was literally no one else in Junior's employ.

The impromptu DJ was frozen in place, watching the scene play out. Was it true? Her eyes had to be playing tricks on her. Maybe Emerald had found her way to this club and was making her see things that weren't there. It was a distinct possibility, after all; no one had kept tabs on where the hallucination-inducing woman had gone after the upheaval. The woman at the turntable desperately hoped she wasn't seeing things. The news that Roman Torchwick was dead hadn't broken her, but it had brought her down for a while. Did she really have him back?

She vaulted over the turntable, making a mad dash. Before Roman and Junior could exchange another word, she practically tackled Roman, wrapping her arms around his waist tightly.

Taken off guard by the sudden embrace, Roman, believing himself under assault, twisted out of the grip of his assailant, grabbing her wrist to put it up behind her back in a hold. Her wrist fluidly snapped out of his grip, and she danced out of his way before he could make another move, giving him enough time to really look at who she was: her short stature; her tri-colored hair of pink, white, and deep brown; her clothing choice of a matching palette; her mismatched irises. Roman's face immediately lit up as he recognized his former partner in crime: "NEO!"

Neo bounced on the balls of her feet, giving a coy little wave.

Roman turned back to his cohorts, gesturing toward Neo. "This is Neo, the little freak I told you about," he introduced.

Behind his back, Neo stuck out her tongue.

Roman turned back to Neo, and back into her mouth her tongue went. "So I see YOU survived," he remarked.

She nodded, then pointed to Roman.

"Yeah, me too," he confirmed. "Well, technically, died and came back to life. I'm guessing you skipped the 'died' part."

Neo nodded. She didn't quite understand how Roman was able to come back from the dead, but she would run with it for the time being.

"You hear anything from Green, Black, or Ashes?" Roman asked.

Neo shook her head.

"So you're not working with them."

She shook her head again.

Roman was practically giddy. "How would you like to come work with US? My new pals are mean on the battlefield AND the dancefloor."

Neo nodded with enthusiasm, looking over the group.

"Does that girl even know what she's getting into?" Wuya asked.

"Do we know what we're getting into with her?" Aghoul replied.

Snatcher wondered exactly what the relationship between these two was. They seemed incredibly close, given the teasing. He bet they were lovers. That would be just his luck, but certainly not the first time it had happened to him regarding someone he felt for.

"You are not gonna regret this," Roman told the others. "Neo has two specialties: illusions and killing things."

"I like that already," Mozenrath remarked with a wicked grin.

"I've never wanted children," Mim mused, "but if I had one, I would want her to be described exactly that way."

"So." Roman turned back to Neo. "Any idea what happened to our Dust stash?"

Neo shook her head. She then pointed to Junior and gave a shrug.

"Yo. Junior." Roman turned his attention to where Junior was cleaning glasses behind the bar. "I've got something I wanna know. And I think you just might know it. Whaddaya say? A little info trade, like old times?"

Junior grinned. It had been a while since one of these. "Just so you know," he informed Roman, "my rates have gone up."

"Hmmm…" Roman mulled it over, looking over to his cohorts. "Now, I'm not entirely sure about that. I think they just might have gone down."

One moment, Junior had just set his glass on the table, looking up to Roman and wondering what he meant by that. Was that a threat? Junior was pretty sure he could take Roman one-on-one. Before he had time to finish that thought, he was suddenly pinned to the far wall by magic; it felt as though a solid brick wall was pressing against him. Mozenrath held his gauntlet out, palm to Junior, keeping him suspended there. As Junior gasped for air against the magical force that squeezed his lungs, he watched as Mim knocked several glasses off the counter in a melodic tinkling. Wuya directed the shards into the air, commanding them to fly around Junior, threatening to stab his skin a thousand times over.

"Okay, okay!" Junior sputtered. "I'll talk! Just let me down first!"

"The information first," Snatcher countered.

"Ozpin's old lackeys," Junior coughed. "The blonde huntress with the specs and the drunk guy. They found the Dust stash. They weren't sure what to do with it or where it came from, so they moved it somewhere they thought was safe until they could figure it out."

"And where did they think it was safe, Mr…?" Snatcher faltered.

"Xiong," Roman supplied. "I mean, most of us just call him 'Junior,' but I can tell you need to do the last name thing."

"Mr. Xiong," Snatcher reiterated. "WHERE did these thieves deem 'safe' for our Dust?"

"Beacon," Junior sputtered. Was it his imagination, or were the glass shards getting closer? "The crates got taken to Beacon."

"Some of us are new to the area," Mozenrath pointed out. "What's at Beacon that we need to watch out for?"

"Like I said, Ozpin's lackeys go there to check up on things," Junior coughed. "The giant Grimm is still there, but it's frozen."

"Wait, wait, wait." Roman shook his head. "You're gonna need to clarify."

The invisible force seemed to tighten, and Junior wondered whether he'd simply suffocate instead of being ripped to shreds by glass. "The giant Grimm that escaped! The one that looked like a dragon! The Rose girl did something weird with her Aura at the top of the school, and now it's frozen there! Nobody can explain it better than that! But it hasn't moved since then, so it shouldn't be dangerous!"

And with that, Junior collapsed to the floor. The glass shards jingled down harmlessly around him, surrounding him in a prismatic arc.

"Awwww, why didn't you stab him?" Mim pouted. Aghoul and Neo seemed equally disappointed.

"Because if we don't leave some of them alive," Wuya pointed out, "they're going to start catching on that our threats are empty. Besides, he might come in handy later if he knows so much."

Junior thanked everything he knew to thank for that.

Roman gave a sigh of frustration. "Looks like we're going on a little road trip," he announced.

"To Beacon it is," Mozenrath resolved.

Snatcher gestured to the doorway. "Lead on, Mr. Torchwick."

Giving a tip of the hat to Snatcher, Roman did just that. As Snatcher, Mozenrath, Yzma, Wuya, the Huntsman, Mim, and Aghoul followed, Neo now skipped along behind them.

As soon as the lot were gone, Junior hastily poured himself a stiff drink and emptied the glass in three swallows.


	10. Seeing Things

10\. Seeing Things

The Boarbatusk charged up its roll, spinning fast and hard against the cement before launching itself directly at Neo. It sailed right past her, and for a moment, it was surprised, for she had been squarely in its path not a second before. From behind, her blade cut right through the Grimm, and in three cuts, she'd diced it into pieces that fell limply to the ground.

"That's it," Mim resolved. "I'm adopting her."

The group of now nine was taking the long route to Beacon. Roman had explained the basics: it was a school where Huntsmen and Huntresses were trained, and ruled over by those who were basically the government of Vale. The castle-like institution stood at the far end of the kingdom. Taking the main road would have been quicker, but there were far too many people in the kingdom who would have recognized Roman on sight, and while Mim, Aghoul, and Neo all rather wanted to try the odds at fighting everyone in Vale at once, the others agreed it was more practical to keep a lower profile. After all, they had no opportunity to dress up Fiammetta Incandescent here. And besides all that, there were all the more Grimm in the main streets, and larger ones, too. Taking a winding pathway through back alleys and side roads was more time-consuming, but it was also far safer from the monsters.

"This…Ozpin," Mozenrath asked. "He was the…king?"

"More or less," Roman answered. "He was the head honcho of the goody-two-shoes buzzkills. Unfortunately, it looks like we're more than guaranteed to go up against him or his lackeys if we want that Dust. Well, that's assuming the others didn't kill him. Come to think of it, Junior didn't mention Ozpin specifically. I wonder who he meant by the drunk one…"

Something was wrong, he realized as he turned onto the corner of a slightly wider street. It was far too quiet. With the WHAM ARMY in tow, it should never be quiet. Roman turned to look behind him and was met with the sight of an empty street.

"Uh…Righty?" he said in confusion. "Archie? Where did…okay, Neo, this isn't funny. Take off that invisibility illusion or whatever you did."

He was met with no response.

"Neo…?"

Only the distant sound of Grimm squalling answered him.

"Okay…" Roman took a tentative step back. "Weird…"

Where could they all have gone? Why would they all have left him? He knew he couldn't just go on toward Beacon without the rest of them. First of all, as confident as he usually was in his ability to survive, he knew that the others lent him a bigger blanket of security when they were together. Strength in numbers, after all. Second, if he did reach the Dust without them, and they caught up to him, they would probably kill him for leaving them behind. He knew Neo would want to.

Before Roman could wonder any longer, a great shadow fell across the street. There was the sound of swooping, beating wings, and then the absolute last thing Roman wanted to see appeared.

An enormous Nevermore landed on the asphalt, stretching out its head to give a sonorous caw.

On instinct, Roman brought up the Cudgel, aiming it at the bird's head. It dipped its great beak downward in an attempt to swallow Roman up, just like the last one had, and was met with a hearty attack from the gun. The blast gave it pause, making it shake its gargantuan head. Roman fired again and again, aiming for the beast's heart, but it didn't seem to have any effect. It was almost as if the shots were just bouncing off its hide. Then one shot did literally that, bouncing right against the feathery skin and ricocheting back toward Roman. He'd never seen that happen in a battle against a Grimm before.

Roman quickly ducked the blast, letting it sail over his shoulder and strike the wall behind him. That was when he realized there was a wall there. He didn't think this street was a dead end, but now it had no exit. Only an entryway from which he'd come, and that was blocked by the Nevermore.

The bird let out another cry, and Roman practically felt the street shake with the sound. He absolutely wasn't going to go down without a fight. Doing his best to ignore the fact that his heart was pounding out of his chest, he charged beneath the bird, firing again at its chest, hoping to slide beneath the Nevermore and back to safety.

The bird's massive wing caught him square in the chest, flinging him down onto the street. A claw then pinned him. The Cudgel went spinning out of his hand, flying across the the road.

"No…" Roman squirmed, kicking out at the bird's claw. "NO! I AM NOT GOING TO DIE THIS WAY, YOU F – "

"SNAP OUT OF IT, TORCHWICK! WHAT'S GOTTEN INTO YOU?"

Roman frantically looked around. He knew that voice, and it belonged to someone he would have been more than grateful to have the help of. But its owner seemed to be completely absent from view. "Will you get over here and HELP ME?" Roman yelled as he struggled desperately.

The Nevermore screamed yet again. It was about to go in for the kill. Roman watched in horror as its beak plunged downward.

It wasn't supposed to end like this.

...

"This…Ozpin," Mozenrath asked. "He was the…king?"

"More or less," Roman answered. "He was the head honcho of the goody-two-shoes buzzkills. Unfortunately, it looks like we're more than guaranteed to go up against him or his lackeys if we want that Dust. Well, that's assuming the others didn't kill him. Come to think of it, Junior didn't mention Ozpin specifically. I wonder who he meant by the drunk one…"

Roman then stopped in his tracks.

"Go on," Mozenrath commanded.

Roman didn't go on. Instead, he turned around slowly, looking at his eight traveling companions, his eyes skirting right over Snatcher, Mozenrath, Mim, Neo, Aghoul, Wuya, Yzma, and the Huntsman. In fact, it seemed more like he was looking right through them.

"Torchwick?" Snatcher asked in concern. "What ARE you doing?"

"Uh…Righty?" Roman replied.

"What is it?" Mozenrath sighed.

Roman didn't reply to Mozenrath. "Archie?"

"Torchwick," Snatcher responded, "I – "

Roman cut him off. "Where did…okay, Neo, this isn't funny. Take off that invisibility illusion or whatever you did."

All eyes flicked to Neo, who just shrugged. She had as much of a clue of what was going on as everybody else.

"Neo…?" Roman repeated, looking directly at the Huntsman.

"Something's wrong with him," the Huntsman realized. "He doesn't think we're here."

"And what is THAT supposed to mean?" Yzma asked.

"Okay…" Roman stepped backward, away from the others. "Weird…"

A theory took shape in Neo's head. It momentarily chilled her.

"All right, Torchwick," Snatcher sighed, stepping right out in front of Mozenrath. "I've had about enough of this – "

He stopped in shock when Roman pointed the barrel of the Cudgel directly at him. The blast from it would have hit him full force had Mozenrath not put up a deflection shield.

Roman kept firing, and Snatcher got the point now, making a run for the sidewalk. The shots sailed past, toward Yzma, who quickly dove to the ground to avoid colliding with one of the explosive bursts. Mim, Wuya, Aghoul, the Huntsman, and Neo all raced out of the line of fire.

As Neo rushed for cover, she looked up to seek evidence for or against her theory. There, atop one of the roofs, was a flash of movement. Just as she'd thought. She skidded to a halt between Snatcher and Mim, pulling on their sleeves.

"WHAT is it?" Snatcher roared at her; Mim just turned in confusion.

Neo dipped down to pick up a chunk of asphalt that had been displaced by one of Roman's wild shots. She passed a hand over it, and it took on the appearance of a sparkling green gem. When she passed her hand back the other way, it became asphalt once more.

"Didn't Roman say he worked with someone named Emerald who could give hallucinations?" Mim realized.

"He thinks we're some sort of enemy." It hit home with Snatcher immediately for reasons he didn't even fully want to acknowledge.

Neo pointed up to the rooftop where she'd seen the flash of movement. "Get you up there?" Mim asked. "So long as you promise the battle will be bloody!"

"Did somebody say bloody battle?" Aghoul skidded in right alongside them. "Count me in!"

Mim made a circular gesture with both hands, and she, Neo, and Aghoul all disappeared. Snatcher turned his attention back to the rogue Roman.

Mozenrath had taken a different approach from running. "Turning on me wasn't a good idea, Roman," he remarked as he caught one of Roman's blasts in his gauntleted hand. Turning it blue, he launched it right back. Caught off guard, Roman ducked, letting the blue bolt sail over him. Roman then seemed startled as he looked at the open street behind him, obviously seeing something that wasn't there.

"GET THAT WEAPON AWAY FROM HIM!" Yzma yelled, running back into the fray.

Roman charged Mozenrath head-on, firing shot after shot. Mozenrath deflected them all easily. "I really hate to do this," he said rather mournfully, charging up a deadly bolt of blue in his right hand. "But if you're just going to be a danger to me, then I suppose I don't have any choice."

"NO YOU DON'T!" Snatcher intercepted Roman's entire body, coming between him and Mozenrath, knocking Roman to the ground. Once both were down, Snatcher pinned Roman there, hands on forearms and knees digging into thighs. Seeing an opportunity, Yzma waited until Roman flailed the Cudgel outward, then grabbed it by the barrel and yanked it away from him, disarming him.

"No…" Roman thrust his knee upward, right into Snatcher's stomach. The impact almost caused Snatcher to let go and roll away in pain, but he held his position. "NO!" Roman growled. "I AM NOT GOING TO DIE THIS WAY, YOU F – "

"SNAP OUT OF IT, TORCHWICK!" Snatcher yelled at him. "WHAT'S GOTTEN INTO YOU?"

Roman paused momentarily, eyes wide. He'd heard, Snatcher realized. Out of everything, that was the only hint of reality Roman had picked up since he'd lost his perception. Roman struggled to look around, searching for something. "Will you get over here and HELP ME?" he cried as he resumed trying to struggle against Snatcher's grip, but to no avail.

...

Emerald Sustrai had been left with no direction. There was no Cinder to follow anymore, not since the great incident. The woman had been frozen on top of Beacon, in Ozpin's shattered office. Emerald had tried a few times to sneak in when no one was looking and wake her – screaming at her, shaking her, making all sorts of noise – before she realized that she didn't really want Cinder awake after all.

Mercury had fled, and Emerald presumed he'd gone to seek Cinder's employer. She supposed she should have done the same, but why? The longer she let everything sink in, the more she realized this wasn't what she wanted. She remembered the offer Cinder had given her in the beginning: go with her, and never be hungry again. Emerald thought she was willing to do anything to that end.

It seemed she'd made an error in judgment. All around, she watched the wreckage and the carnage grow every day. She'd been a part of the events that had made all of it happen. Yes, she had been well fed, but was it worth it?

Sooner or later, she realized, Salem would come for her if she didn't report back in. Salem would figure out that Emerald was having second thoughts. Every new day that dawned, Emerald resolved to go and find her…and by every afternoon, she had resolved not to go after all, but to remain in the city of ruin. She was once more stripped to the life of a thief, abusing her Semblance for food and other necessities.

She had never wanted this. Not truly. And she wasn't ready to do it all over again, like she knew Salem and Mercury would want. She didn't dare contact any of the White Fang, either. They would either rope her into their rampant destruction or kill her for being human, now that Cinder wasn't around to keep the peace between Fang and human associates.

And Emerald blamed Cinder. There were days she wanted to go back to Beacon and kill the frozen woman. Drive a blade right through her heart. She'd almost done it, once. But the weapon had shaken in her hand and fallen right out of it. For whatever reason, she couldn't do it. She blamed Mercury, too, but was almost afraid to try and find him. The man had always been volatile, unhinged. Had she been that way, too? It seemed hard to believe. She blamed Salem, but there was no touching her. She blamed Adam Taurus, but he was as intimidating as Mercury. And she blamed Roman Torchwick, but he was dead. She'd seen Blue-2 go down in a rain of fire, with Nevermores picking at its deck.

Her surprise when she heard his voice coming from one of the back streets was indescribable.

More than one person had taken to the rooftops of Vale in order to move about without being seen. Emerald was among that group. Heading from one side of the ruined city to the other, she caught wind of that familiar timbre coming up out of the alley. Peering over the side of the roof, she confirmed what she'd thought she'd heard. About to round the corner was Roman Torchwick, leading a new band of…lackeys? Associates? Emerald didn't care. She was livid, seeing his smug swagger back in town. By all rights, he should have gone through as much hell as she had, and there he was, chatting away happily. Of course he loved all the death and destruction he had caused. Of course he never regretted a moment of it, the way she kept going back over it in her head and thinking about what she should and should not have done. He wasn't haunted by screams at night, the screams of the people she'd helped to kill.

Maybe he deserved a little haunting.

Thinking back to his reported final moments, she dredged up an image of what would harrow him most. A Nevermore, she decided. That would do nicely. She kept her eyes on him and focused, breaking into his mind. Quickly she spun the picture he was to see: his new companions gone from sight, and in their place, a monstrous Grimm, ready to devour him. If she was lucky, he'd shoot.

And watching him nearly gun down his companions brought her a sick satisfaction. She wondered how long she should keep it up. Should she just give him a taste of fear, or should she wait until he'd downed at least one of his fellows before waking him up?

She didn't have time to make the decision. Neo had looked up. Neo had noticed her. She turned to flee, leaping across the rooftop, knowing that as soon as she got too far away from Roman or lost her concentration, his vision would fade.

In a flash of light, Neo appeared on the other rooftop, right in Emerald's path, accompanied by Mim and Aghoul. All three grinned sadistically, indicating the ill will they bore toward Emerald.

And her concentration snapped.

It was no longer the claw of a Nevermore holding Roman to the ground. He blinked rapidly in surprise when he realized it was Snatcher holding him down. Perplexed, he craned his head around to see Yzma holding the confiscated Cudgel and Mozenrath standing by with a glowing blue fist. "…What just happened?" he asked.

"If I let you go," Snatcher asked coldly, "are you going to attack us again?"

"No!" Roman insisted. "What do you mean, attack YOU? Did you NOT see the giant Grimm in the middle of the…road…" Realization was beginning to dawn upon him.

"Miss Neopolitan suspected a former associate of yours, out for revenge, was meddling with your mind," Snatcher informed him. "You shot at all of us point-blank, you know."

"Green," Roman hissed. "Okay, okay. I'm good now. I promise not to shoot anybody. Just let me up, please?" Having Snatcher pin him down and stare him right in the eye with those deep, shining navy blues of his own was making him sweat. Not in the bad way, he thought to himself, but he didn't need to be distracted by certain thoughts at the moment.

Snatcher relented, moving off Roman and taking his hand to jerk him to his feet. "You know," Roman told him casually, "I can stand up on my own."

"I'm well aware," Snatcher replied, nonplussed.

Roman reached out for the Cudgel Yzma held, but she jerked it away from his reach. "Not until we're SURE," she insisted.

"Dammit, Green…" Roman hissed.

"I'll be holding onto this," Yzma informed Roman. "Now, we simply have to wait until Mim, Aghoul, and Neo return."

"Where'd they go?" Roman asked.

Up on the rooftop, Emerald gritted her teeth. Neo on her own was bad enough, but now she had an entourage. Neo was already twirling her parasol as she advanced on Emerald; Aghoul swung a scythe out of thin air.

Emerald knew she had two choices: fight or run. If she ran, she would be caught up with. You never turned your back on Neo unless you had a death wish. Fighting her wasn't that good for your chances of survival either, but it was slightly better than running. She reached around to where her twin bladed pistols were strapped against the small of her back.

Neo advanced; Emerald sidestepped, drawing her guns. She set off a round of fire at Neo, who somehow managed to avoid every single glowing green projectile while barely moving at all. Aghoul twirled his scythe, deflecting two of the energy bullets right back at Emerald. As Emerald leapt into the air to avoid them, Neo leapt as well, unsheathing and swinging her parasol blade. Emerald deployed the blades of her guns, parrying the thin blade once before both women hit the ground. Emerald spun, letting her blades fly on their chains, trying to catch Neo in the line of fire. Neo simply danced over the chains. Watching the whole scene, Aghoul simply laughed. Emerald wondered what was so funny.

Then she found herself lifted off the ground by a gargantuan purple claw. Inspired, Mim had taken on the form of an Ursa, and Neo's brawl with Emerald was just the diversion she needed to sneak up on Emerald from behind. "GOT YOU NOW!" Mim crowed.

Emerald struggled briefly before realizing that it would do her absolutely no good.

Mim thought about gutting Emerald right there and then, but for once in her life, it occurred to her to put someone else's happiness first. After all, Aghoul had done so little in this battle. "Would you like to do the honors, Ghoulie?" Mim giggled.

"Would I ever!" Aghoul rushed forward, brandishing his scythe.

"NO!" Emerald cried.

There was a flash of silver. Emerald's body went limp and her head hit the rooftop, rolling like a ball. Mim let the rest of her slump down before returning to human form. "Well, THAT woman won't be bothering us anymore!" Mim remarked, making a gesture of dusting her hands off. She and Aghoul each put a hand on Neo's shoulder as they walked away from the site of the battle. "Neo, you were absolutely wonderful! I think this is the beginning of something beautifully HORRENDOUS!"

Emerald's heart pounded as she watched the trio turn their backs on her. Controlling one mind was an art. Controlling two was strenuous. Controlling three was a feat she had thought was impossible until her very life depended on it. All she'd had to do was make Aghoul think she was a foot more to the left than she was, and when the scythe swung, she'd managed to imprint upon all three minds present that her head had been bloodily severed from her body. Mim had let her down, and there she was careful to lay very still, hardly daring to breathe. Somehow, she'd managed it perfectly, and they all thought she was dead. When they vanished, she waited a few minutes longer before daring to peel herself off the roof and move as quickly as she could away from the scene. That would be the last time, she promised herself, that she would mess with Roman Torchwick, particularly while he was in the company of that trio.

Mim, Neo, and Aghoul materialized back into view on the street below. "Well, we just took care of our little Emerald problem," Aghoul announced.

"Can I have my weapon back now?" Roman asked Yzma. He barely waited for her to present it before swiping it out of her hand. "Let's just get this show back on the road already."

He was tense, and the entire group could feel it. He turned on a heel and practically stormed down the road, right through the space Emerald had made him think was a solid wall.

"Torchwick," Snatcher began, catching up to him first.

Roman already knew what he wanted to ask. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine at all."

"I said. I'm. FINE," Roman growled.

"What exactly did she make you think we were?" Snatcher asked.

Roman halted for a moment. "A goddamn Nevermore," he answered. "Happy now?"

"All I wanted to know," Snatcher replied with a dismissive shrug. He now understood. Emerald had given Roman flashbacks to his own death. Of course he was shaken. But if he was that determined to walk it off, Snatcher surmised the only proper thing to do would be to let sleeping dogs lie and not bring it up again. He was confident Roman would shake it within a few minutes and be back to his loudmouth self. Still, the events of the past few minutes had been disconcerting.

"Does he get like this a lot?" Mozenrath asked Neo.

Neo shook her head.

"Good," Mozenrath replied before picking up the stride.

Neo had her own concerns for Roman, but it seemed Snatcher had the situation more or less under control on his end, so she left well enough alone. She'd overheard what Roman had seen, and as much as she enjoyed torturing people, she could only think of that as a bridge too far.

Though the revenge run had been quite fun. She was completely sold on Roman's new entourage now, especially the morbid duo who had rode into battle with her.

Far above, the other person who had taken to the rooftops of Vale in order to keep out of sight watched, yellow eyes wide with fright. She, like everyone else in the kingdom who had seen Roman that night, was shot through with disbelief. How could he still be here? How could he still be alive? It wasn't supposed to be this way. Things were bad enough.

She fled the scene as quickly as she could. This shouldn't be happening, her mind said as it raced. She thought she was done dealing with him. Her plate was already full; Adam Taurus was still MIA but very much alive. And now, the man who'd driven her crazy was back for another round.

She remembered the days when the sight of him was enough to send her flying into battle, not flying away as fast as her legs could carry her. But, Blake Belladonna ruminated, times had drastically changed.

...

As Ruby, Sora, Jaune, Kairi, Ren, Riku, and Nora neared Vale, Riku felt the presence of the Darkness increase. At one point, he actually stopped in his tracks, barely able to go on. The others had watched him worriedly before he shook his head and forced his way, ignoring the stench. There seemed to be a reversing effect after that point: the deeper he walked into the Dark parts of Remnant, the more he got used to it and the more it seemed like it wasn't really there at all.

"So that's your home," Riku finally remarked as the gables and rooftops of Vale came into view.

"It wasn't always like this," Ruby sighed.

"Well, maybe we can do something to help fix it," Sora suggested. He caught sight of the lines of monsters squirming into and out of the streets. "Are those the Grimm?"  
"Yup," Jaune sighed. "That's them."

"They don't look so tough," Sora remarked.

"Don't look so tough!" Jaune cried. "What do you mean, they don't look so tough?"

"I've taken worse!" Sora bragged.

"He has," Riku confirmed. "And so have I."

"I'm…getting there," Kairi added.

"If you fight things worse than that on a daily basis," Nora asked, "how hasn't the place you're from been wiped from existence?"

"Well…about that…" Sora scratched the back of his head. "It…might have been, once. But we fixed it."

"Maybe you can help this world after all," Ren resolved.

...

The Boarbatusk revved up its charge, whirring into action. As it launched toward Sora, Sora swung the Keyblade like a baseball bat, smacking it toward Riku. Riku laughed as he picked up the save, whacking the spinning Grimm-ball to Kairi. Kairi twirled a brief pirouette before knocking the Grimm back to Sora, who dealt it the coup de grace, slicing it neatly in half. "Ta-daaaaa!" Sora bragged as he, Riku, and Kairi turned back to the Remnant quartet, striking poses of various dramatic effect. "That's the power of the Keyblade!"

The stars in Ruby's eyes were all the more prominent.

"This is great and all," Jaune pointed out, "but we've been wandering around for a while, and we have no idea what we're even looking for."

"Can you sense any Darkness nearby?" Kairi asked Riku.

Riku shook his head. "There's too much all around. It all blends together."

"Roman and his new buddies could be anywhere!" Nora groaned. "They could be to the left!" She pointed in that direction. "They could be to the right!" Point. "They could be North! They could be South! They could be East! They could be West! They could be down!" Down at the street this time. "They could even be up!" This time, to the rooftops, where something moved quickly away after being singled out by Nora's pointing.

"I saw something!" Kairi cried.

Ruby looked desperately around for a way to get up to the roof. "I need to get up there!"

"Here!" Sora knelt on the ground, holding the Keyblade out like a lever. Ruby, taking the hint, stepped on the flat of the teeth, and as a golden glow surrounded the blade, Sora launched Ruby up high. She caught hold of the rooftop and scrambled up. Sora followed, able to launch into a second jump in midair so he could also hit the rooftop.

"Was that his Semblance?" Nora asked.

"That's just something else Keybearers can do," Riku explained.

"Okay, seriously, can I just HAVE one of those blades already?" Nora squealed.

As soon as Ruby landed, her eyes alit upon the shape running from her at top speed. Just as she had suspected, it wasn't Torchwick, nor was it anyone allied with him. But it was someone all the more worth chasing. She took off at high speed, her Semblance allowing her to gain on the retreating figure. "Blake!" she cried. "Blake, WAIT!"

Sora didn't understand quite why Ruby was chasing after the girl with the long, dark hair and the pointed cat's ears atop her head, but he could tell from the way she called out Blake's name that this was a friend, not a foe. He tried his best to catch up, though Ruby was leaving him in the dust.

Blake led them over several rooftops, leaping over the gaps nimbly. She could hear every single one of Ruby's cries. It was chance that had run her across the girl's path, just as chance had run her across Roman's. But she refused to stop. No matter how Ruby screamed ("BLAKE! BLAAAAAKE! IT'S ME, RUBY!"). No matter how much the tears threatened to well up in her eyes and blind her. But she knew that no matter how fast she ran, she was no match for Ruby's speed Semblance, and it was only a matter of time before the younger girl had placed herself out front of Blake, spreading her arms to block her path. "Blake, please," Ruby begged, and the tears were visible in her eyes; she wasn't holding them back.

"What do you WANT?" Blake spat.

"I want to talk to you," Ruby told her. "I miss you. I couldn't believe it when Yang said you just…ran away."

"You can't talk to me," Blake replied sternly. "You shouldn't. It would be better for both of us if you just left me alone."

"But, Blake - !"

"Hey!" Sora's voice broke in; he'd only just caught up. That had been even more of a workout than racing Riku back on the Destiny Islands. "That's no way to talk to your friend!"

Blake whirled on him. "What do YOU care?" she spat.

Sora was taken aback. "I just…don't want to see you hurt each other."

"Neither do I," Blake hissed. "That's why I want Ruby to leave. Me. Alone." Did Adam know the names of her friends yet? Ruby? Weiss? Sun? He'd already gotten to Yang, and Blake still couldn't be confident that he was through with her. What if he was watching right now? Even this boy, whoever he was, would be in danger if Adam connected him to her. Would that Adam would mistake Torchwick for her friend.

"You think she's better off without you?" Sora asked. "That she's safer without you?"

"I KNOW she is," Blake insisted, glancing around nervously.

"I have a friend who thought that once," Sora told her. "I left him back in the street, but if he were here right now, he'd tell you you're wrong. Because he was."

"DON'T TALK ABOUT THINGS YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" Blake screamed. "You think I WANT the rest of you to end up like Yang?"

"Who's Yang?" Sora asked.

"My sister." Ruby's voice was small and meek.

"What…happened to her?" Sora asked with trepidation.

"She – " Ruby began.

Blake saw her opportunity and turned to dart away. Ruby quickly turned to grab her forearm. "Ruby, let GO!" Blake cried, tugging away but not fighting so hard as to hurt Ruby.

"Blake, please," Ruby begged. "It's not your fault. It wasn't you. It was – "

"I KNOW whose fault it was, okay?" Blake tugged harder, breaking free of Ruby's grip. "You think you can just bring me back to you and Yang and everything will be okay? Well, it won't!"

"It might be, if you try!" Sora argued.

"You know what?" Blake straightened up to full height as she turned to face Ruby and Sora directly. "If you really wanna play hero, I saw one of our old enemies heading toward Beacon."

"Torchwick," Ruby identified.

Blake flinched. "How did you know?" She shook her head. "Never mind. He's got new henchmen now. They're tough. I saw the end of a fight they got into with…someone I think was Emerald Sustrai. Torchwick's more dangerous than ever. But if you're looking for something easy to fix…you've dealt with him before."

"She's got some tough friends of her own, too," Sora informed Blake. "She'd have even more if you'd come and help."

Blake shook her head. "I told you enough times. I already put you both in danger by talking to you."

"More danger than Torchwick?" Ruby asked indignantly.

"You don't know Adam," Blake said under her breath.

"You're right," Sora told her. "I don't."

Before Sora could ask who Adam was, Blake told him, "Let's keep it that way."

Then she was off running again. Sora turned to follow, but halted when he noticed Ruby, the more likely of the two to catch up with her, standing perfectly still. "Aren't you gonna go after her?" he asked.

Ruby shook her head. "She doesn't want to be followed. She doesn't want to come back. I thought maybe if I just talked to her…but she doesn't want to talk, either."

"What happened between you two?" Sora asked.

Ruby looked down at the rooftop, and Sora could see her distress, right down to the droplets of water that streamed off her face. "Are…you okay?" he followed up. "You don't have to talk about it – "

"It's okay." Ruby wiped her tears off with her sleeve. "You should know. And we should go back to the others and tell them we know where Torchwick is going." She set back out to where they'd left Nora, Ren, Jaune, Kairi, and Riku. "I'll tell you on the way."

"Okay," Sora agreed, falling into step beside Ruby. "But only as much as you want."

As they tread the rooftops carefully, Ruby wove a sad tale of four friends who had forged a nearly unstoppable team, and the forces that had driven them apart.


	11. Screaming at the Walls of Fire

11\. Screaming at the Walls of Fire

The fortress of Beacon towered up into the air, its broken tip framed by the skies of gray. Atop the tallest tower, as Junior had promised, there appeared to be an enormous Grimm, shaped like a jet black dragon, perched and unmoving.

"And it's supposed to be frozen," Mozenrath declared as he and his entourage neared.

"Apparently," Roman confirmed, staring up at it, hoping it wouldn't pick now to move. "I'm just going to go on record and say I have…NO idea what's going on here."

"What's going on," Snatcher reminded him, "is that the Dust we are looking for is within this hall."

"So let's stop wasting our time and MOVE." Yzma stormed toward the castle-like building.

"Um…don't you think we should make sure that thing is ACTUALLY frozen up there first?" Roman asked, hanging back. "Because by all accounts – "

"Yes, yes, by all accounts, it doesn't make sense," Yzma sighed. "Like that's ever stopped me before."

"Wait." Mozenrath put up a hand. "They'll have guards posted at the doors. Not anything we can't handle, but we've had a lot of hassle today. We could use a break." His eyes flicked upward to the top of the tower. It most certainly was broken. There would probably be a flat landing there, and he could see where he was going, unlikely to split himself or anyone else through any walls.

"I know what you're thinking," Roman told him, "and I do NOT approve."

"If it's the dragon you're worried about," the Huntsman informed him, "I would relish the chance to slay it once and for all."

"I am not WORRIED about the dragon!" Roman argued. "Grimm. Whatever. I just think it's in all of our best interests to not get swallowed whole."

Neo nodded in agreement.

"Well, too bad," Mozenrath replied. "Because last I checked, I was still in charge. Not you."

He threw a Corridor of Darkness into existence, striding through it and waiting for the others to follow. Yzma and the Huntsman eagerly did so, with Wuya, Mim, and Aghoul trailing behind. Neo skipped after Aghoul, turning to look back over her shoulder at Roman and Snatcher.

Roman rolled his eyes. "Fiiiiine," he grunted before storming toward the portal.

As soon as Snatcher had made sure Roman was through, he made his own way into the Corridor. I've really got to stop looking out for that man, he told himself, especially while he's got Miss Neopolitan around to do that.

...

Atop the tower, the Corridor opened up onto a sight to behold. The Grimm, for one, was massive. The landing had once been a sealed room, and the Grimm's head easily took up half of it. Its six blaze orange eyes were open, and there seemed to be a spark of life behind them, but the enormous monster didn't move a centimeter.

Then, across the room, there was the woman. Her hair a gray-black and her dress flame red, she was frozen with an expression of shock and anger upon her face. Much like the Grimm, she didn't move.

"They were frozen after all," the Huntsman remarked softly.

"Wait, for serious?" Roman crossed the room to look at the woman, unable to tell if she was registering the sight of him. "You can't move, can you?" he asked her. She stood still as a statue. Roman then waved a hand up and down in front of her face: "Helloooooooo! Anybody in there? What, nothing? I'm just going to have to assume no one's home, then." He laughed with schadenfreude. "Oh, how the mighty fall! Or should I say the CINDER Fall?" He turned back to the rest. "THIS was the great and powerful Cinder. And THAT is apparently the look that's going to be on her face for the rest of her life. Just…hang on. I need a picture of this!" He stepped back, withdrawing his scroll to snap a shot. "Oh, and by the way, did I mention I quit? Because you suck. And Salem sucks. You can go ahead and tell her that. Oh, wait, you can't. You're frozen! You suck and you are also frozen. This day is suddenly looking up!"

Yzma had no interest in Cinder or the Grimm. Instead, she located an elevator shaft leading straight down. "I suppose this was the only way in and out of this room," she muttered. "I'll need a very, VERY long ladder for this."

"We have magic," Mozenrath told Yzma half absently; he was still watching Roman make fun of the immobile Cinder. "We don't need ladders."

"Or we can use our magic to make ladders," Wuya decided, stepping toward the elevator shaft. She extended a hand downward; a ladder fashioned itself out of nothing, spreading all the way down to the bottom of the shaft.

"NOW we are cooking!" Yzma crowed before excitedly leaping onto the ladder to descend it to the bottom of the shaft. Wuya followed, then Aghoul.

As Mim and Neo stepped closer to the shaft, they turned back to look at Mozenrath, the Huntsman, Snatcher, and Roman: Mozenrath in particular. The Huntsman was surveying the gargantuan Grimm, pacing around its head. Roman was taking selfies while standing next to Cinder, making every face he could think of, including copying her expression of irate awe. Snatcher seemed to be hanging on the edge of that scene, watching Roman without getting himself really involved. And Mozenrath was looking from Cinder to the Grimm and back with a sparkle in his eye. Ideas were brewing in that brain of his.

"Aren't you coming?" Mim asked her leader.

"You go on ahead," Mozenrath advised. "I'll catch up."

At those words, the Huntsman, Snatcher, and Roman all turned to look at their employer, now clearly able to see the knowing smirk on his face. Whatever he'd come up with, they were sure it was relevant to all of them.

Mim shrugged. "Suit yourself!" She made her way down the ladder, and Neo eagerly went after her.

"Out with it," Snatcher told Mozenrath.

"It's clear you've gotten some sort of idea in the past few moments," the Huntsman added.

"This…Cinder," Mozenrath recalled, stepping toward the stationary woman. "You said she was magical, didn't you, Roman?"

"She has at least half if not all of the Fall Maiden's powers," Roman confirmed. "It all depends on how bad she botched up the job after I kicked the bucket. We know she botched the job at least THIS badly."

"And it's not a Semblance," Mozenrath reiterated. "It's pure magic."

"Are you trying to go somewhere with this?" Roman asked.

"Back home, I possessed a rather special crystal," Mozenrath explained. "The Crystal of Ix. It had the power to entrap anyone or anything magical and allow the crystal's owner to use the power of whatever was in it for themselves. In the past, I've tended to save the use of it for genies. But as long as magic is just going to be handed to us, we might as well pick it up, don't you think?"

"And how are you going to retrieve this crystal?" the Huntsman asked. "Your old home is still under surveillance by Maleficent, after all."

"We'll worry about that later," Mozenrath told him. "First…"

He held out his right hand, projecting a tractor beam toward Cinder. Roman quickly scurried out of the way as the blue energy surrounded Cinder…then promptly fizzled out before Mozenrath could use it to move her. Mozenrath tried again, but to no avail.

"Whatever magic is on her," Mozenrath grumbled, "it's strong."

"How quaint," a familiar voice sounded over the landing. "It seems your powers are nowhere near as strong as you believe they are."

The statement made Mozenrath's blood run cold. He whipped his head about to get a good look at the speaker, though he would have recognized that voice anywhere. The Huntsman, Roman, and Snatcher were blissfully unaware of what they were looking at when they took in the sight of the faery in black, sporting the horned cowl. However, when Mozenrath identified her, they all remembered the name from his accounts:

"Maleficent." Despite the trepidation he felt addressing her, Mozenrath was determined to put on a stoic face. She didn't need to know he was afraid of her, though she probably already had that fact logged in the recesses of her memory. "Did you come here for a reason, or just to gloat?"

"I came seeking you, in fact," Maleficent replied coolly. "We still have unfinished business. You left Hades in quite a predicament, after all."

"Don't pretend you care about him," Mozenrath snapped. "You just want to see me suffer."

The Huntsman, Snatcher, and Roman all went for their weapons.

"You claim to know so much about me," Maleficent taunted, "and yet you know so little. For example, did you know that lifting the curse on Cinder Fall would take me but a moment?"

"I'd like to see you try," Mozenrath growled. His conscious thoughts believed that she was making an empty threat. But deep within him, a core of fright told him she wasn't.

"I had thought to settle our debt myself," Maleficent told him, "but this seems far more fitting." Her staff materialized in her right hand, and she twirled it momentarily before flicking it toward Cinder. A globe of bright green light sailed across the landing until it crashed into and washed over the petrified woman.

Cinder's taut muscles relaxed. Her face was awash with serenity as she drew herself up to full height. "As a matter of fact, Roman," she stated, "I didn't fail. I have all of the Fall Maiden's powers now. I'm also fully willing to accept your resignation…on my terms."

Roman slowly backed away, not realizing he was making a course for the Grimm's head. "Come on," he told her nervously, "I was just having a little fun with you! You know, like the good old days?"

Cinder turned to Maleficent. "And who do I have to thank for this?" She smiled wickedly.

"An ally, perhaps," Maleficent told her. "After all, it seems we now have a common enemy. Which is perhaps too generous a term for a gaggle of imbeciles who refuse to acknowledge their place."

Cinder put out a hand to either side, and a small column of flame roared up in each. "Shall I do the honors of punishing them?" she asked.

"You needn't be alone in the endeavor," Maleficent told her. The globe atop her staff glowed neon green.

The Huntsman was the first to realize what she was about to do. With a "NO!", he deployed a net from the end of the huntstaff to intercept the next lime-colored globe. The magic burned right through it. Mozenrath barely had time to put up a deflection shield of deep blue between the sphere and the target; Maleficent's spell burned right through his as well. It collided with the enormous Grimm, and its head twitched.

"That should be more than enough for you to handle," Cinder laughed, dismissing the flames from her hands. "I think I'll check up on your friends."

A jet of flame sprang up beneath Cinder's feet, and she levitated into the air, arcing up into the sky before making a dive down the elevator shaft.

The gigantic Grimm roared, audible throughout the kingdom. It beat its massive red wings, taking flight. Maleficent gave a brief but hearty laugh as she vanished, leaving only four on the landing for the Grimm to devour. The Grimm saw easy pickings.

Mozenrath, the Huntsman, and Snatcher knew they had to get some distance, so they charged for the opposite end of the landing. "How did she FIND US?" Mozenrath roared.

Snatcher realized who was missing. He turned back to view Roman standing stock-still, head craned upward to watch the Grimm's head.

Neither fight nor flight had been triggered in Roman when the Grimm had been reanimated. Instead, it was an unholy hybrid of both. He was rooted to the spot, blood practically turned to ice. His grip tightened on the Cudgel. The beast was rearing back, opening its maw to swallow him up. Let it try, he urged it mentally. He would just have to take this one down with him this time. He swung the Cudgel upward, aiming it at the Grimm, hand shaking momentarily before he forced it steady.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Mozenrath yelled at him.

Roman acted as though he hadn't heard – in truth, he barely had. As the Grimm's jaws plunged toward him, he turned the Cudgel upward to fire off a salvo into its throat. Several shots hit the beast's interior, but due to the size and toughness of the Grimm, it wasn't affected in the slightest. Roman felt the hot breath of the Grimm as its jaws began to close around him.

Then, from the left, he was slammed by a physical force that sent him tumbling out of the Grimm's path. The enormous jaws crashed down onto an empty floor, breaking through to the level beneath.

When Roman rolled to a stop, he was in a familiar position: the person who'd tackled him to get him to move was right on top of him, deep blue eyes locking onto his green. "Now DON'T make me do that a THIRD time!" Snatcher growled before scrambling to his feet, leaving Roman in somewhat of a daze.

"The beast is mine," the Huntsman resolved, pointing his huntstaff and charging the Grimm. Mozenrath was hot on his heels, fist ablaze.

When Roman had regained his balance, Snatcher waved him on before jumping down into the hole the Grimm had punched in the floor, landing hard on the lower story. The Grimm's attention was now on Mozenrath and the Huntsman rushing directly toward it, and Roman was caught between joining the charge and following Snatcher. His decision was made for him when Snatcher bellowed up to him, "GET A MOVE ON, TORCHWICK!"

Roman nimbly leapt down to the level below, where Snatcher had located a stairway. As soon as Roman caught up, Snatcher led the bolt down the stairs. "Why are we RUNNING FROM IT?" Roman yelled indignantly. "You think I can't take it?"

"I think if you take the honor of slaying it from the Huntsman," Snatcher replied, "he's going to be sore, and we'll never hear the end of it!"

Roman knew that wasn't the case, but he appreciated Snatcher trying to protect his ego all the same.

Down many stairways and hallways they hurtled. "But seriously, Righty better not give us crap for ditching him," Roman groaned.

"I'd think he'd be grateful that the two of us secured the perimeter whilst he was engaged in combat," Snatcher replied coolly.

When they reached the front gate, they were grimly reminded of something Mozenrath had figured out from the start: the reason they'd teleported up to the top of the fortress in the first place. Just as he'd suspected, the front gate was guarded. As Roman and Snatcher skidded to a halt, weapons drawn, Qrow sneered back at them: "Nice try."

"Excuse me?" Roman nearly laughed. "You're supposed to be keeping us from getting IN, not getting OUT. If anyone had a 'nice try' here, it's you."

"Y'know, it's almost an honor, facing the infamous Roman Torchwick," Qrow replied, drawing a gleaming silver blade from where it was sheathed on his back. "Or getting mouthed off to by him, as the case is. Though you really don't make that mascara look as good as they say you do."

"Let's see…" Roman thought it over. "Hasn't shaved in a week, smells of booze, doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut…you must be Qrow Branwen."

"So you've heard of me. Once again, I'm ALMOST honored." Qrow gave a nod toward Snatcher. "Who's your buddy?"

Snatcher managed to get halfway through "Archibald Sn – "

"Your doom," Roman supplied.

Snatcher shrugged. "Well, I suppose that works."

Qrow was about to make another retort, but the movement of dark wings overhead distracted him. He tilted his head upward to behold the sight of the massive Grimm taking flight. "What – "

Roman and Snatcher both lunged at the opportunity. A burst of red and a bolt of lightning shot toward Qrow. And somehow, without missing a beat, he dodged both, barely moving his body. He abandoned the sight of the Grimm to look back down to his opponents, holding up his blade. "That seriously it?" he taunted.

Snatcher threw the mallet, only to have Qrow block it with the flat of the blade and then swing his sword up to entangle it completely in the chains, jerking Snatcher closer to him. Snatcher jammed the barrel of his pistol at Qrow's head; Qrow pulled off another last-minute dodge, sending lightning flying out over empty air. The red-caped warrior slipped past Snatcher, using one downward jerk of his sword and the leverage of the chain to topple him before disentangling the sword and bringing it up to meet Roman's Cudgel. The two dueled just long enough for Snatcher to get his bearings. Back on his feet, Snatcher grasped the mallet of his weapon in one hand and the pistol in the other, throwing the chain over Qrow from behind…or aiming for him, at least. Qrow was faster, ducking and darting, and the chain fell over Roman, entangling him. Roman dealt Snatcher one very miffed look, which Snatcher returned in equal measure.

"If you two wanna get kinky, don't hold back on my account," Qrow teased, a sparkle in his rose-colored eye.

"Kill him," Roman seethed, wriggling against his bonds.

"I intend to," Snatcher promised, looping the chain off of his ally.

They came at Qrow from both sides, and Qrow's sword blocked every single shot: the shots of red, the sparks of electricity, the strikes from mallet and cane. Red and yellow glowed against silver. Then, when he'd had enough fun, Qrow leapt right up into the air, where he pivoted to press his feet against the Beacon wall and launch himself some distance away.

Just as he'd hoped, having put himself in the middle of the dueling duo ended up with them pointing their weapons at each other across the space where Qrow had once been. Snatcher's reflexes were fast enough to hold his fire as soon as the target had disappeared.

Roman's weren't.

In fact, Roman hardly registered it until Snatcher cried out, dropping his weapon to clutch at his left shoulder with his right hand, staggering as crimson blood poured out over his fingers. Roman took a single step back, horrified at what he'd just done.

No.

What Qrow had just done.

"You're…DEAD!" He rushed past Snatcher to catch Qrow on his landing, flipping the Cudgel around in his hand to eject its hook toward Qrow at high speed. It caught Qrow right on the throat, pulling Qrow back and down as he staggered to stop the hook from choking him. By the time he'd cast the hook aside, Roman had caught up with him, and the Cudgel came down hard on Qrow's back, again and again, giving him no time to get his bearings or manipulate his weapon.

Even with one arm out of commission, Snatcher wasn't about to be felled so easily. He quickly swept downward to scoop up the mallet, whirling to where Roman was keeping Qrow down. As he barged toward Qrow, mallet held high, his only goal was to bash the man's skull to bits.

Then, at the exact same time, the Cudgel and the mallet bounced off a purple energy field that surrounded Qrow. A cloud of dark smoke hung thick in the air, having formed while all were distracted. Roman barely had enough time to groan, "Oh, not AGAIN – "

Blue-white crystals shot from the cloud, battering both Roman and Snatcher. Their edges were sharp, leaving both men with several hairline cuts adorning their bodies (as well as tearing up what they thought were two perfectly good jackets). They backed away from Qrow, darting for a hiding place from the new assault. They chose the remains of the raised statue that had once stood proudly before Beacon. The sculpture, at one time, had depicted Huntsman and Huntress standing atop a raised platform. Now, due to the Grimm attacks, the human likenesses had been reduced to rubble, and all that was left was the rock.

A bespectacled blonde woman wearing a purple cape stormed toward the scene of the battle. Qrow stood up and saluted her: "About time."

Glynda Goodwitch ignored him. She was more concerned with the two men she'd seen trying to batter Qrow to death. It wasn't hard to figure that they'd been breaching the boundaries of the fortress for unsavory purposes…especially once Glynda recognized one of them as Roman Torchwick. She gritted her teeth hard, raising the crop she used as a weapon.

The stone shards that had once been part of the majestic statue lifted themselves off the ground, spinning and gathering before molding themselves into a pair of casts that slammed into Roman and Snatcher, encasing them against the statue base and sending a fresh wave of pain shooting through Snatcher's wounded shoulder. Their arms were bound to their sides; the only bits Glynda left free were their heads and feet.

"Would you mind telling me what's going on here?" Glynda asked; the question was meant for Qrow, but she never took her eyes off his attackers.

"I would," Qrow answered, "but I'm not quite sure myself."

...

At the very bottom of the elevator shaft, far belowground, was a dark vault. The room was cavernous, stretching out so that the far end's contents were only barely glimpsed from the position of the shaft.

"I'm almost certain they put it at the other end of the room just to be difficult," Yzma huffed as she led Wuya, Mim, Aghoul, and Neo toward a grand stack of crates piled around two devices that looked eerily like they were designed to contain human bodies; the glass pane of one was cracked.

Neo rushed on ahead to the crates, unsheathing her parasol's blade and using it as a crowbar to pry off the top of one of the boxes. Gleefully, she grabbed a handful of green crystals, letting them rain back down onto their brethren in the box with a melodic tinkling sound.

"Well, at least we found what we were looking for," Wuya observed.

A tremor shook the building down to the core. What the quintet didn't know was that this was the effect of the dragon-esque Grimm coming back to the flow of time proper.

"Why don't I like the sound of that?" Yzma said worriedly.

"One of us should probably go check on that," Aghoul suggested.

After a brief silence, Wuya sighed, "Well, don't all volunteer at once. Fine. I'll go." She created a Corridor that led out to the back courtyard of the academy.

"I'm coming with you," Yzma volunteered.

Wuya gestured toward the Corridor; "Age before beauty."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that." Yzma strode through, and Wuya followed, closing the Corridor behind her.

"Now." Mim turned back to the pile of crates. "What fun can we have with this stuff?"

"We're supposed to take it right back to the base," Aghoul reminded her.

Mim gave him a wordless look of disbelief.

"I only said that's what we're SUPPOSED to do," Aghoul went on. "Not what we're actually GOING to do."

Neo grinned wickedly in response.

The trio was alerted to the sound of rushing wind and the glow of fire coming from the direction of the elevator shaft. In a blaze of flame, Cinder Fall rocketed into the vault, coming to a gentle stop in midair right before Aghoul, Mim, and Neo. "So this is what you were after," she stated with a cold smirk. Her eyes fixed directly on Neo; "Hello, Neo."

Neo scowled in return.

"And who are YOU supposed to be?" Mim huffed.

"I'm the Fall Maiden," Cinder replied calmly. "You don't have to tell me who you are. You're working with Torchwick now, and since he's decided to make his low opinion of me clear, that makes you my enemy. You won't be taking that Dust anywhere. In fact, you won't be leaving."

Lines of flame ringed Cinder's eyes like bright glasses, and as she raised her hands, a wall of flame rose up between her and her targets, quickly rushing toward them and threatening to engulf them all.

Mim twirled her hand, index finger extended, and pointed at the flames. A cold wind whipped through them, dousing the bright fire. Neo put a hand on Mim's shoulder, vaulting over the short woman's head before charging right at Cinder, sword drawn, face adorned with a smile of glee. She plunged the blade at Cinder, but the Fall Maiden was fast enough to avoid it once, twice, thrice. Neo struck out again to find that Cinder had somehow gotten behind her; if not for the fact that Neo was even faster than Cinder, she would have been completely incinerated by Cinder's next column of flame.

"Get the Dust back to base!" Aghoul commanded Mim. "I'll take care of HER."

"Don't tell me what to do!" Mim snapped, shaking a finger in Aghoul's face.

Aghoul ignored Mim, bringing a skull bomb into existence so that he could launch it at Cinder's back. Cinder whipped around, bringing up a hand so she could deflect the flying skull. Aghoul tried a few more skulls, but Cinder knocked all of them aside, causing them to explode behind her and sending Neo running from one end of the room to the other in order to avoid the blasts.

"NEO!" Mim cast a Corridor in the floor, one that led down into Judgment Hall in Mt. Ebott. "Get the Dust in here!"

Neo nodded, running back around Cinder to get to the stack of crates.

"All right, no more Mr. Nice Corpse!" Aghoul dispensed with the skull bombs, bringing out his scythe instead. He charged, swinging it at Cinder; she backflipped over the blade, continuing to tumble until she'd gotten some distance away from Aghoul. As she righted herself, ending her levitation with a definitive "clink" of glass heels on the floor, she spun in place, calling Dust into her hand to form a pair of obsidian swords. By that time, Aghoul had caught up with her. He raised the scythe high, then plunged it straight downward; Cinder crossed the swords above her head to block it. Leaving one sword in place to pin up the scythe blade, she removed the other to strike out at Aghoul, causing him to leap backward in surprise.

As he went backward, a purple wolf sprang forward, jaws snapping at Cinder. Cinder threw a sphere of flame at the lupine Mim, who caught it in her jaws and spun round and round like a dog playing fetch. At the zenith of her spin, she let go of the ball, firing the incendiary projectile right back at Cinder. Cinder leapt, levitating up above it and calling a new weapon into her hand: a black, glassy bow. The bow loaded itself with three arrows, and Cinder drew back, aiming down at Mim.

A snap. A howl of pain. Aghoul screaming, "MIM!"

Mim was forced to return to human form so that she could pluck the arrows from her body with both hands. Cinder hadn't hit vitals, but she had put Mim in a great deal of pain. "That DOES IT!" Mim screeched, and she practically exploded into the form of the dragon, letting loose a fiery breath at Cinder. Cinder returned fire with a flame of equal magnitude, and the two jets of flame pushed against each other for a moment, sometimes tipping one way or the other depending on who felt a greater surge of power.

Aghoul, thinking this would be the perfect time to take advantage of Cinder's distraction, launched a skull into the air and batted it upward with his scythe. Cinder only needed one hand to keep up the flames against Mim, and she used the other to punch the skull back downward. Aghoul skittered out of the blast range.

Neo, in the meantime, had been uninterrupted as she loaded crate after crate into the Corridor. She looked forward to seeing the look on Cinder's face when she realized that they'd made off with all the Dust. All that was left was a sole crate filled with the purest red variety. Neo pushed it to the edge of the Corridor…then thought better of it. Mim and Aghoul were taking a lot of hits, and that was disquieting.

Finally, Cinder's flame, in one great rush, overpowered Mim's, crashing like a fiery wave over the dragon and bringing Mim's own fire along with it. Burned and howling, Mim returned to human form again, slumping to the ground. "I…HATE…YOU!" she screeched, pounding the floor with her singed fists. "I HATE HATE HATE HAAAAAAATE YOOOOOUUUUU!"

Cinder smirked. "The feeling is mutual." The bow appeared again, and more arrows loaded up into it. This time, they would hit Mim's heart.

The arrows were released with a snap. They thudded right into heart, stomach, and the spot in between. However, none of these body parts belonged to Mim.

"WHAT?" Cinder gritted her teeth as she glared down Aghoul, who'd stood in front of Mim at the last second to take the arrows to the vitals.

"Well, that's an inconvenience," Aghoul sighed as he tore the first arrow from his chest.

"How aren't you DEAD?" Cinder seethed.

Aghoul chuckled as he wrenched the second arrow from the base of his sternum. "If I were any more dead," he laughed, "I'd be alive!"

"That doesn't make any sense!" Cinder growled. She forced herself to be calmer: "Enough games." She sent one last incendiary column of fire at the damaged pair.

Neo intercepted, rushing across the vault with the crate of red Dust held high. As Cinder let loose with the flame, Neo launched the crate into the air, right into the path of the shot. Cinder blasted the crate full force, and it did what red Dust does when it comes into contact with fire.

The explosion rocked the entire vault, sending Cinder rocketing all the way back to the elevator shaft. Neo grabbed the back of Aghoul's robe and Mim's dress, dragging both of them to the Corridor, running as fast as her little feet could take her. Cinder, with a ringing in her head from where she'd banged it against the far wall, rode a jet of flame back across the vault, but by the time she'd reached the trio, Neo had dragged her accomplices down into the Corridor, and Mim had closed it. Cinder opened fire on a blank floor, her soul now as aflame as her attacks.

...

The Huntsman plunged the edge of the Huntstaff into the floor, using it as a pole vault to launch onto the Grimm's head. Mozenrath used a simpler teleportation spell, one far less clean than a Corridor of Darkness, to appear next to him aboard the creature. The Huntsman made a beeline for where the Grimm's head was situated upon its neck, plunging the huntstaff at it, hoping it would be weak.

While the Grimm's neck was far too thick for the huntstaff to do any grievous damage, it still caused the creature a good amount of pain. It beat its great red wings, taking off from the side of the fortress, smacking the tower with its tail as it took off. It made a course directly upward, causing the Huntsman to slip as the ground beneath him became vertical. He gripped the huntstaff hard, dragging it down as the Grimm went up. A gauntleted hand wrapped around the weapon's shaft; Mozenrath was utilizing the staff as a handhold as well as adding his weight to it so that it would cut down through the Grimm's skin all the faster.

The Grimm's flight path took it upside-down completely, and the huntstaff dislodged, sending both Mozenrath and the Huntsman tumbling down through empty air past a whipping tail.

Rather than panicking, Mozenrath waited. The great Grimm righted itself as soon as it had shaken off its aggravators, and Mozenrath seized the opportunity to quickly teleport himself and the Huntsman right back to its shoulders, between the wide wings.

"Tear the membranes!" the Huntsman ordered Mozenrath. "If it can't fly, then we have it!" He barreled to the left, and Mozenrath sped off to the right. They waited for the wings to come down in their cycle, at which point they boarded the red appendages and set gauntlet and huntstaff to tearing the surprisingly fragile membranes. The Huntsman left a great gash in the left wing, and Mozenrath blew a hole completely through the right.

The Grimm bellowed in agony, losing altitude fast. As it plunged toward the ground, it made a final bid to rid itself of its riders, turning a corkscrew in midair. Upside-down again, the Huntsman fell, and he waited for the also rapidly dropping Mozenrath to teleport him back again. What he didn't count on was the Grimm's wildly whipping tail, now out for revenge. The flexible appendage slammed into both the Huntsman and Mozenrath, sending them crashing back toward the Beacon wall. The Huntsman spun in midair, plunging the huntstaff into the wall to use as a handhold and putting out his feet to absorb the shock. As soon as he was settled in position, he turned to get a good view of Mozenrath smacking directly into the wall, his head crashing hard, before the sorcerer plunged, unconscious, toward the stone and asphalt below.

The Huntsman wrenched his staff from the wall, launching off it to get a head start on his fall as well as an aim toward his new target. His muscle mass accelerated his descent, and as he passed Mozenrath, he scooped the comatose sorcerer into one arm while using the other to drive the staff back into the wall, stopping both from falling further.

The Grimm squalled as it fell into the streets of Vale. The Huntsman fired it a glare that he wished could kill; then he set about planning how to get himself and Mozenrath safely down from their perch.

...

"Best I can tell, they were infiltrating the school to steal something," Qrow told Glynda. "Three guesses what."

"But if they were after the Dust, then where is it?" Glynda asked. "And, more importantly, I thought it was reported that Roman Torchwick was dead."

"Like I'm not even here," Roman huffed.

"I'd say they reported wrong," Qrow remarked, "but my niece saw it with her own eyes, and she doesn't lie." He stepped closer to where Roman was bound in stone. "So how'd ya do it? Somethin' in your semblance?"  
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Roman replied. "I don't suppose I could trade that information for freedom for me and Archie here, could I?"

"That wasn't even a nice try," Qrow scoffed.

Glynda heard a new set of footsteps rushing toward the scene. As she turned and got an eyeful of the newcomers, she cried, "Qrow, look out!"

Qrow leaned back, and the spearlike dart whistled past him, barely snagging his shirt front.

"DRAT!" Yzma seethed, loading up another dart as she and Wuya continued their charge.

"I'll handle this," Wuya offered. She gathered up two green spheres of energy in her hands, launching them at Glynda one by one. Glynda swatted each with her crop; the spheres broke against purple deflection shields.

"New plan," Wuya decided. She launched into the air, speeding toward Qrow, twisting about midflight so that one leg was extended toward his head. Qrow easily dodged the kick, and Wuya skidded across the ground, coming to a more or less graceful stop. As she straightened up, she taunted, "I see you are fast! I wonder just how fast you happen to be." She held her arms straight out to either side: "Arise, my rock creatures!"

The ground rumbled. Chunks of stone and asphalt dug themselves out to form six humanoid giants, each eight feet tall, animated with green light. Wuya pointed them toward Qrow; "CRUSH HIM!" The stone giants moved as one, fists outstretched.

Qrow thrust his weapon behind his back. The staff elongated; the blade curved until his sword had transformed into a massive scythe. Giving it a twirl, Qrow ran into the fray, hacking the rock creatures to pieces.

Yzma, in the meantime, had loaded up another dart, flinging it at Glynda. Glynda held out her crop, slowing the dart's movement. She spun, and the dart curved around her; when Glynda had turned a full 360 and brought the dart around with her, she flung it right back at Yzma. Gasping in fear, Yzma quickly cartwheeled out of the way, but not before the dart nicked her in the leg…and a nick was all it took. Pink smoke billowed out of nowhere, and when it cleared, where Yzma had been, there was now a tiny purple frog, emitting a growl of frustration.

Glynda stared in surprise. "Well. There's something you don't see every day."

"Maybe YOU don't," Qrow responded, severing a stone arm from the side of a hulking giant.

The Yzma-frog hopped its way up to Wuya's shoulder. "Really?" Wuya groaned. "You couldn't have tipped those with poison instead?"

"I was accounting for this exact circumstance," Yzma replied.

"Admittedly smart," Wuya relented.

After Qrow had reduced the last giant to rubble, he backed off. "I think you know what to do," he told Glynda.

Glynda pointed her crop at the debris leftover from the giants, raising it into the air and raining it like an avalanche down upon Wuya and Yzma. Wuya raised her hands in return, stopping the stones from crashing onto her and holding them up in midair. With a motion that resembled setting a volleyball, Wuya shoved the rock pile back to Glynda, who stopped the shower of stones by making them circle her like moons around a planet.

"Um, hello?" Roman called out. "Still pinned to a statue over here!"

"Assistance would be appreciated!" Snatcher added.

With a snap of the fingers, Wuya caused the encasements on the two prisoners to fall apart, setting them both free. Roman quickly glanced over to Snatcher; his wound looked even worse now.

Glynda turned the stones to fly at Roman and Snatcher, but Wuya redirected them all, sending them flying toward Qrow. Qrow twirled his scythe blade at a seemingly impossible speed, dicing every rock into bits before it could pummel him.

The Huntsman had completed his slow journey down the wall, and with Mozenrath draped over one arm and the huntstaff in the other hand, he dropped onto the ground next to Wuya. On the other side, Roman and Snatcher lined up, ready to bring Qrow and Glynda down once and for all.

But something came into view that made Wuya, Yzma, the Huntsman, Snatcher, and Roman pause. It was at that moment that Roman knew they were sunk.

...

Ruby, Sora, Riku, Kairi, Jaune, Nora, and Ren had frozen in their tracks when they saw the dragonlike Grimm take flight, then plummet to the ground behind them.

"WHAT?" Jaune screamed. "BUT THAT THING WAS FROZEN!"

"They told me they tried to move them, but nothing could!" Ruby added. "I froze them to the spot somehow!"

"You did WHAT?" Sora asked.

"I still don't really get it," Ruby told him, "but I froze that Grimm in time! It shouldn't be moving! Not unless it wore off…"

"Or something moved it," Riku suggested, looking to Beacon.

"That would be bad," Ruby told him. "Really, REALLY bad. There was something else up there that got frozen that shouldn't be moving right now. And if that Grimm is moving, then Cinder…" She trailed off, looking to Jaune.

"No," Jaune said softly.

"Who's Cinder?" Kairi asked.

"Cinder," Jaune replied, "is someone who took away someone I loved."

"She caused all of this," Nora went on. "Everything bad that happened is her fault!"

"There's no time to think about that now," Ren said with a shake of the head. "We have to do something about that Grimm."

"But what can we do?" Jaune wailed. "It's HUGE!"

Sora opened his mouth to make a comment, but Riku intercepted: "I think we should get to Beacon first. Something made that Grimm move, and that same something might have brought Cinder back, too. And that something is there at Beacon."

"Riku's right," Sora realized. "It might be the bad guys we were looking for!"

"Then let's go!" Ruby charged ahead, and it was all the others could do to keep up.

When Beacon's front gates came into view, Ruby spotted her uncle Qrow dicing up a shower of rocks that threatened to attack him while Glynda stood braced to defend. They faced down a redheaded woman in black (with a frog on her shoulder, though Ruby couldn't see that at first), a hulking man wearing a dragon skull helmet who carried another man draped over his arm, a man in a billowing red jacket dripping blood from one shoulder, and –

Ruby stopped short. Sora, Riku, Kairi, Ren, Nora, and Jaune fell into step alongside her. They spotted the lineup of villains at the same time that the lineup of villains spotted them. "WHAT?" Ruby screamed, staring directly at Roman. Her teeth gritted, and her fists clenched. "What are you DOING here?"

"Great," Roman muttered. In a louder tone, he addressed his longtime foe: "Don't tell me. You thought I was supposed to be dead."

"I SAW you die," Ruby stated in awe.

"Who is that?" Sora asked Ruby.

"That's him," Ruby replied. "Roman Torchwick."

"HEY!" Sora stepped forward, pointing at Roman. "Are you the one who attacked Radiant Garden?"

"Or Disney Castle!" Kairi added.

Wuya scooted right up next to Roman. "They have us overpowered," she whispered. "We can't take them now. When I give the word…run."

"Answer us," Riku demanded.

"Yeah, we did that," Roman told them. "And we loved…every…minute of it. Though as much as I'd love to take the credit, I have to hand it to my new boss here." He looked to the unconscious Mozenrath, then back to the group of young warriors. "…He's having a bit of an off day."

"Who IS he?" Sora asked incredulously.

"Sorry," Snatcher replied. "Can't say! That's on a need to know basis, and you don't need to know!"

"All you need to know is that we're about to make a roast bird out of your Qrow here," Roman threatened.

"Did you NOT hear what I said?" Wuya seethed.

"We aren't running," the Huntsman insisted.

"I'd like to see you try…again," Qrow told Roman, winking.

The Huntsman didn't need to see or hear any more to know he already hated Qrow. "Enough of this," he growled, aiming his staff at Qrow. Roman raised his weapon at Glynda. Snatcher held his mallet high. Behind them, Wuya discreetly conjured a Corridor and began counting down.

With a yell, the seven young warriors moved as one, overtaking Qrow and Glynda to rush to meet their newfound foes. Ruby drew a red contraption from her back, hoisting it high and firing a high-energy ballistic from it. Kairi blocked the shot from Roman as Sora rushed the redheaded man, Keyblade drawn. The key-shaped sword bit into Roman at the exact same time that Ruby's bullets found a nesting place in his arm.

Riku launched a Dark Firaga at the Huntsman. While the Huntsman was busied maneuvering his staff to block the dark flames, he failed to take note of Nora rushing behind him, wielding a massive hammer. Her presence became known to him once the hammer's head slammed into his back.

Snatcher launched the mallet at Jaune; Jaune responded by bringing out his collapsible shield, and the weapon thudded metallically against it. Jaune drew his sword as Ren put both jade-green bladed pistols in hand. Flipping his weapon about as best he could with only one hand, Snatcher took up his own pistol, sending a bolt of lightning out toward Jaune; Jaune hid behind his shield, pushing against the electricity with the flat of it; Ren fired a salvo of auric bullets.

"Three," Wuya counted. "Two…"

Snatcher, Roman, and the Huntsman barreled for the Corridor, dragging Mozenrath along with them, finally admitting defeat.

"One," Wuya finished with a smirk.

"Sometimes I feel like you and I are the only sensible ones in this outfit," Yzma sighed.

"Says the tree frog," Wuya mocked.

"At least I was spared the irony of being a poison dart," Yzma replied.

Wuya turned and swept through the Corridor with Yzma upon her shoulder, closing it behind her. While none of her pursuers made it through, a few more bullets from Ruby and Ren's weapons did, making for a painful getaway.

...

Cinder stalked to the edge of the landing of the destroyed tower that had once been Ozpin's office, glaring down at the front gates, where she saw her quarries getting away through another Corridor to who knew where. Her right hand curled into a fist, and she could feel her body temperature literally rising.

A sudden sound, a whooshing in the air, turned Cinder's attention to behind her. Another Corridor had opened up, with no sign of anyone to have cast it. A voice, cold in timbre but inviting in tone, beckoned out from it: "Come this way, Cinder Fall. I believe we have much to offer each other."

Cinder recognized the voice, and it only took her a moment's mental search to identify the speaker as the one called "Maleficent." The woman was an enigma to be sure. What had placed her in Cinder's path? What had driven her to break Cinder's bonds? Obviously, she had wanted revenge on Roman's new cohorts, particularly the one in blue who'd talked about imprisoning Cinder inside of a crystal. But the woman had enough power to bring the gigantic Grimm to her beck and call. Cinder guessed that Maleficent hadn't really needed Cinder in order to enact that revenge, but had chosen her as a tool of cruel irony.

Was it destiny that had brought Maleficent to her? If Cinder stepped into that portal, she didn't know if she would ever return out of it. Salem would be most displeased. But Maleficent was immensely powerful, and Cinder admired that. Perhaps, just perhaps, she was even more powerful than Salem, and there was only one way to figure that out. Cinder had always been drawn to power, and she wanted to know what more Maleficent did indeed have to offer.

Enticed, Cinder strode into the Corridor, her glass heels clinking on the floor all the way until she was immersed entirely, and the Corridor disappeared behind her.

...

As Riku glared angrily at the place where the sextet of villains had disappeared, Ruby rushed toward her relative: "Uncle Qrow! Are you okay?" She clamped herself around Qrow's chest in a tight hug.

"Never better," Qrow laughed, ruffling Ruby's hair a little bit. "Y'know, I coulda taken those guys myself with one hand behind my back, but thanks for the save all the same."

"Are you okay, Miss Goodwitch?" Nora asked Glynda worriedly.

"I'm fine," Glynda responded, pushing a lock of her almost white-blonde hair back into place. "Though I'm not sure I can say the same for the rest of the kingdom."

All eyes turned back around to where the grounded dragon-Grimm was rampaging through the streets. "We have to do something," Jaune moaned.

Ren nodded. "We should warn them. Maybe we can evacuate the city."

"About all we can do," Qrow agreed.

Sora, however, was forming different plans. As he looked over the Grimm, he sized it up in his mind against the likes of the Opposite Armor, the Groundshaker, the dragon Maleficent, the gigantic Ursula.

"No," he resolved.

"No WHAT?" Jaune cried, flummoxed. "You want to leave everyone to DIE?"

Sora shook his head. "Not that either." He turned back to the group with a big smile on his face. Riku and Kairi knew what he was about to say, and Ruby could have guessed. "I think we can take that thing!"


	12. We Are Lightning

12\. We Are Lightning

"You are not serious," Jaune said in disbelief. "If we couldn't stop that thing before, what makes you think we can stop it now?"

"But you did stop it," Kairi pointed out.

"I don't know how I did it," Ruby moaned. "And I don't think I could do it again!"

"You don't have to do whatever you did that froze it," Sora told her. "I fight things that big all the time. All you really need to do is band together! We've all got powerful weapons and a lot of talent! I bet if we all charged that thing at once, we could bring it down!"

"But we'd better hurry," Riku urged. "Otherwise, a lot of people are going to get hurt while we make up our minds."

"There's no way," Jaune moaned. "It's impossible!"

"It doesn't seem very plausible," Ren added.

"As much as I wanna say we could…" Nora shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

Glynda shook her head. "It's too dangerous."

"Maybe with that attitude," Qrow replied. "Or maybe it's just dangerous enough." He hoisted his scythe up behind his shoulder.

"Qrow," Glynda scolded, "now is not the time for reckless endangerment of children – "

"We're more than children," Riku told her. "Sora's right. If we all work together, we stand a chance at making sure that creature falls and never comes back."

"And if Sora and Riku say they can do it," Kairi insisted, "then I know we can!"

Jaune, Nora, and Ren all looked to Ruby. Ruby's eyes were fixed on Sora. She gave him a decisive nod, hoisting her red rifle up behind her shoulders; it unfurled into a scythe similar to Qrow's. "Let's do it."

She turned and ran after the beast, scythe held high. Sora, Riku, Kairi, and Qrow wasted no time following her.

"I can't believe him," Glynda huffed, staring after Qrow. "He's going to let all four of them get killed!"

Jaune bit his lip. He'd only known Sora, Riku, and Kairi for a short time, but already they'd made a big impression on him. He dared, at this moment, to call them friends. Ruby, on the other hand, had been close to him ever since he'd first arrived at Beacon, and while he hardly knew Qrow in person, he knew him from the many stories Ruby had told of him. They'd all made their choice to go after the Grimm. Just like a young woman named Pyrrha Nikos had once made a choice to get Jaune to safety before taking Cinder Fall on alone. That was the last time Jaune had seen Pyrrha, and it would be that way forevermore. He couldn't bring himself to believe he would survive against the behemoth of a Grimm. However, he knew he wasn't about to let any more friends, new or old, run toward death with open arms while he stood back and let it happen.

He gritted his teeth and ran after them.

"Well?" Nora gripped Ren's shoulder, jolting him. "If Jaune of all people thinks we can make it, then we can MAKE it!"

"Can't argue with that," Ren told her as they took off together.

Glynda was close behind. She knew she couldn't stop them. All she could do was protect them the best she could. And she intended to do exactly that.

Ruby led the charge, her Semblance allowing her to speed ahead; she had to make a conscious effort to run slowly enough for the others to catch up. "It's going to be a lot harder to fight that thing if the streets are boxing it in," she told Sora. "We need to lure it into an open square somehow!"

"I can act as bait for it!" Sora cried enthusiastically.

"That's too dangerous!" another voice called down from the rooftops, its owner running parallel to the heroic crowd from above. "Let me do it. My Semblance will keep me safe. Trust me."

Ruby was almost stopped completely in her tracks when she heard who had spoken. "BLAKE!" she cried, looking up above.

Blake took a moment to hop from one roof to another before glaring down at Ruby and Sora. "Just this once," she seethed.

"Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!" Ruby squealed.

Without a word, Blake took off on a more direct course toward the Grimm.

"Why will she be safe?" Sora asked.

"You'll see!" Ruby told him gleefully.

...

The Grimm lumbered through the streets, stopping every once in a while to give a halfhearted beat of its wounded wings. It was only able to get a short distance off the ground before crashing back down again. The Huntsman and Mozenrath had dealt it some grievous damage in that area, though they'd only really managed to give it flesh wounds everywhere else.

As it stalked on foot, it felt hunger, and sought out flesh to sate that hunger. The people remaining in the district had seen it coming from a long ways off and fled, creating an impromptu evacuation, but it still clawed open each building it passed, coming up empty each time but hoping for succulent fear to dine upon. Perhaps it would find something juicy in the next house.

But there! Right out in front of it! A young Faunus with black hair, standing in the middle of the road! With a squall of triumph, it struck quickly to swallow her up…and its jaws closed on nothing.

"Over here!" Blake yelled, and the Grimm's eyes flicked to the left. She stood upon one of the rooftops now, making no move to escape. It struck again, but once more was met with a clever illusion: a shadow copy that Blake had made of her image to fool it.

"Come and get me!" Now she was running down the road ahead. She chose an erratic path, zigging and zagging, making sure to leave a copy behind every few minutes; the Grimm snapped at each and every false Blake. She vaulted up onto a roof only to forge a copy and jump right back down; she doubled back on herself after placing a fake. In this pattern, she led the hungry Grimm all the way to the nearest square, a battlefield just big enough to contain its massive body.

As Blake and the Grimm burst into the square from one street, Ruby, Sora, Riku, Kairi, Qrow, Jaune, Nora, Ren, and Glynda rushed in from across the way. "Everybody ready?" Ruby asked.

"Now or never!" Sora confirmed.

"Lead the way," Qrow beckoned.

Blake was now running in glorified circles, keeping all her copies within the confines of the square so as not to lose the Grimm's attention. "HURRY!" she yelled, fearing it was now only a matter of time before the Grimm seized upon the real thing now that it was fenced in.

Glynda's eyes flicked around the square. Other, smaller Grimm had done a lot of damage, wrecking storefronts all around. Glynda had tried to repair many of them herself, but it was a futile effort; they just kept breaking again, either by more Grimm or by Glynda's waning energy being unable to hold the repairs in place. Their employees and customers had emptied out a while ago, seeking safer ground. As much as she wanted to be able to put everything back in place, Glynda had to admit that now, the shops were a lost cause, and the rubble had a better use. She picked up the fallen pillars and archways with her telekinetic power, forging a cuff around the Grimm's tail that bound it to the ground. As soon as it realized it was pinned, the Grimm twisted its head back to gnaw at the stone cuff.

"GO!" Ruby yelled, and the others charged en masse.

"Ready?" Sora called out to Riku.

"You know it!" Riku laughed. "Think you can keep up?"

"I should be asking YOU that question!"

They positioned themselves on either side of the Grimm's head; they knew the routine. The pair entered a flow of synchronized acrobatics as they slashed and swiped out at the sides face of the creature, giving "Ha"s and "Huh"s in unison.

"It looks like its wings are damaged!" Ruby called out to Qrow. "I don't think it can fly!"

"Well, let's keep it that way!" Qrow called back.

Uncle and niece split up, running to either side of the monstrosity and leaping almost impossibly high onto its back. In one swift movement, Qrow chopped at the base of the right wing while Ruby chopped at the base of the left. With some effort, they severed both wings, and the membranes flopped uselessly down onto the ground.

Sora and Riku went back to back. "Let's hit him hard!" Sora encouraged. "Last Saber style!" They both turned to face the Grimm head-on, punching into the front of its skull-like face repeatedly with their blades.

Ren ran along the creature's neck, and the second Sora and Riku backed off, he jabbed the twin blades of his pistols down into the Grimm's eyes, darting from one side of the head to the other to ensure all six were punctured and the Grimm effectively blinded. He jumped down from his place atop the Grimm to give Sora and Riku room to prepare the next phase of their attack.

The two boys split to either side of the Grimm's head again; it was thrashing, agonized that it had been blinded by Ren. Sora and Riku let loose beams of white-hot energy that sparked from all angles, colliding with the moving target.

While the duo kept the head busy with their Dark Cannon, Blake, Jaune, and Kairi rushed beneath the belly of the beast. Blake plunged her blade right up into the Grimm's stomach as soon as it lowered enough for her to do so. Kairi cast a Firaga spell on one of the creature's claws while Jaune raised his shield to block a scraping talon.

With the Dark Cannon finished, Sora and Riku went back-to-back again. Riku placed his blade over Sora's, and they swung as one, constructs of pure energy extending their Keyblades into incredibly long broadswords that cut across the air and into the Grimm's head.

Glynda had found even more rubble on the edges of the square, and she had spent the duration of the others' attacks forging it into a great spike of stone in midair, trying to position it over the Grimm's shoulder blades. Once it was assembled and sharp, Glynda drove the spike directly down into the Grimm, puncturing it and driving deep. All the while, Nora ran along the length of its back, ramming her hammer into its spine with several loud cracks. The Grimm, surprised by the pain of Glynda's attack, reared up onto its hind legs, sending Nora on a quick slide down. By coincidence, Ren ended up charging behind to where Nora was flying off the Grimm, and before he knew it, she'd landed in his arms bridal-style. "Thanks a million!" Nora chirped before hopping out of Ren's grasp and onto the ground.

As the Grimm rose up, Sora and Riku knew they could match its height. They'd charged up enough energy between them to summon thirteen swords of energy that twirled around them, acting as a propeller to thrust them up into the air. There, they spun the blades into the Grimm's chest, cutting deep and drawing out a waterfall of blood.

The Grimm, on its last legs, stumbled back down to all fours. Sora and Riku danced out of the way; however, Jaune realized a little too late that he was directly beneath where one of the front claws would land; he was about to be crushed.

"FREEZE!" Kairi screamed, putting herself in between Jaune and the talon. Jaune was shot through with pure terror for Kairi until he saw the great cluster of ice she'd summoned up with her Keyblade, forming a wall that curved up above them and ended in a shield of spikes that stuck upward. The Grimm brought its claw right down upon these spikes, staining the ice red; Kairi pulled Jaune out of the way right before the humongous foot crashed down through the icy shelter.

"Thanks!" Jaune gasped.

"No problem!" Kairi replied gladly, giving Jaune's upper arm one last squeeze before she let him go. Both hands now pressed to the Keyblade's hilt, she swung the weapon around in a circle; "THUNDER!" A bolt of lightning struck the Grimm's other front talon.

Nora's jaw dropped as she watched. As the electricity sparked, so did something in her eye. Kairi and Jaune's escape route took them right past her, and she grabbed hold of Kairi's arm as the redhead passed, practically screaming, "YOU CAN MAKE LIGHTNING OUT OF NOWHERE?"

"Yes?" Kairi was confused as to why Nora was so interested in this over the Fire and Blizzard spells. "Sora and Riku can do it too."

"Can you do it again?" Nora asked eagerly.

"Why?" Kairi asked.

Nora began with a grin.

Sora and Riku entered the final phase of their attack; Riku bellowed, "YOU'RE GONNA LOSE IT ALL!" and the pair levitated to either side of the Grimm, blasting out pure energy, light and dark, battering the beast and draining its energy. By the time All's End was finished, the Grimm collapsed, lying on the ground, unable to move after all the damage it had taken. However, it still drew breath, its chest heaving.

"SORA!" Kairi waved the other two Keybearers down. "RIKU! OVER HERE!"

Sora and Riku ran to where she stood with Jaune and Nora. "What's going on?" Sora asked.

"Nora has an idea," Kairi informed them.

Nora puffed out her chest, hands on her hips. "I need you to hit me with lightning as hard as you can!" she announced.

"Wha…?" Sora tilted his head.

"That could kill you," Riku informed her.

"Nuh-uh!" Nora shook her head. "Because I've got…THE POWER OF SEMBLANCE!" Her teeth sparkled as she smiled.

"Guess we should just trust her on this one," Sora resolved.

All three Keybearers pointed their weapons at Nora, calling out the command as one: "THUNDER!"

The triple bolts hit Nora without shaking her a millimeter, absorbing into her skin. In fact, Nora's exterior seemed to crackle with lines of electricity. "Again!" Nora demanded.

"THUNDER!"

Now Nora was very obviously shimmering with lightning. "AGAIN!"

"THUNDER!"

Radiating electricity, Nora began to laugh sinisterly, her cackle growing ever louder. She threw back her head, letting the energy wash over her. "I AM AAAAAALL POWERFUUUUUUUUL!" she screamed.

"Uh…should we be worried?" Riku asked.

Ren shook his head. "This is pretty usual for her. Though I don't know if she's ever had access to that much electricity before."

Hammer in hand, Nora made a mad dash for the struggling Grimm. Her Semblance allowed her to channel electric energy through her body, and the lightning that the Keybearing trio had fed her was coursing through her muscles, empowering them so that she could run faster, leap higher – hit harder. She launched into the air with a wild yell, raising her weapon Magnhild high. When Magnhild was brought down onto the Grimm's head, in the center of the scalp, the shockwave was tremendous, even jolting the other warriors a little. The Grimm's head split completely apart, and after a final twitch, it moved no more.

"WE DID IT!" Ruby cried, thrusting a fist into the air, and Nora, Jaune, Sora, Kairi, and Qrow whooped with joy. Riku, Ren, and Glynda smiled proudly at their handiwork, knowing the Grimm would not destroy anything further. Ruby turned to address one in particular: "WE DID IT, BLAKE! …Blake?"

Blake had taken off, and all that was visible of her was her rapidly retreating back down an alley. Ruby considered following, but thought better of it this time, solemnly turning away.

Sora had noticed. "Don't worry," he told Ruby. "She's your friend. She'll find her way back to you. Just like Riku did to me."

"Wait." Ruby was taken aback. "Riku was the one who left you because he thought you were better off without him?" She looked over Sora's shoulder to where Riku was laughingly receiving a congratulatory hug from a slightly bloodied Nora. "But he seems so confident."

"He is," Sora told her. "Riku can do anything. But sometimes, even the best of us get lost. And it can take a long time before we find the right path. It took Riku a year."

"A whole year?" Ruby groaned.

"It'll be worth it at the end," Sora promised. "I think someday, you, Blake, Weiss, and Yang will all fight together again as an unstoppable team!"

"I think you're right," Ruby agreed.

...

Cinder stood in the center of the meeting chamber in Villain's Vale, letting the eyes of Pete, Ursula, Hades, and Jafar survey her as she faced down Maleficent herself.

"How intriguing," the faery observed. "A counterpart of one of the Princesses of Heart…but instead of a heart filled with pure light, yours is black as night. Tell me, Cinder Fall. What is it you most desire?"

She'd known this answer for a long time, and stated it to many. "I want to be strong," Cinder told Maleficent. "I want to be feared. I want to be powerful. And it seems that's what I am."

"Maybe on that wasteland of a world of yours," Jafar taunted, "but what power have you outside of it?"

"I suppose that's something I'll have to find out," Cinder replied coolly, turning to him. "My employer taught me a lot, but she never spoke of other worlds."

"Y'know what other worlds mean, babe?" Hades told her. "MORE power. Like you've never dreamed."

"Why do you all have this interest in me?" Cinder asked. "Is it just because we have a common enemy?" Her gaze was fixed once more on Maleficent.

"That and more," Maleficent replied. "Your powers are impressive indeed, and the Darkness in your heart is strong. If you were to work with us, perhaps we could achieve our ultimate goal that much sooner."

"And what is that goal?" Cinder inquired, her tone even.

"Domination," Maleficent replied. "To lay the worlds out at our feet, to rule or destroy as we choose. Tell me, Cinder Fall…is this not what you have wanted?"

"It sounds exactly like something I want," Cinder replied. "Where I came from, we were going to change the world."

"And with Maleficent, WE'RE gonna change 'em ALL!" Pete laughed.

"Perhaps my employer will just have to deal with the fact that I'm going to take a leave of absence," Cinder decided. "At least until I know where this road leads."

"After all, we were brought together by quite unique circumstances," Maleficent remarked. "I had only meant to discover the whereabouts of that fool Mozenrath, and I found you on the way. Tell me, Cinder Fall: do you believe in destiny?"

The question hit hard. It always had. It always would. Staring Maleficent right in the eye, Cinder replied wholeheartedly, "I do."

...

A firm knock came at the door to Archibald Snatcher's quarters; Snatcher was perched on the edge of his bed at the time, sewing shut all the tears that the last onslaught had left in his crimson coat. He'd always been proud of that jacket, despite its color and the way it denoted him as a lowly exterminator. He'd sewn it himself, and there was a lot of him in each of its swirling stitches.

Roman Torchwick didn't wait for an answer after he knocked, simply entering the room with his jacket draped over one arm, revealing the plain black tank he wore beneath it. He discarded the jacket on the bed next to Snatcher. "Mind doing mine when you're done with that?" he asked.

"Only because it's you," Snatcher replied without looking up from his work.

"Aw, I'm flattered." Roman settled himself in backward on a desk chair, crossing his arms over the chair's back and resting his chin on them. "I am going to kill those kids, though. And Scare-Qrow with 'em."

"Just so long as you don't shoot me again in the process," Snatcher responded.

It took Roman a minute to realize that was a tease. "I don't plan to make a habit out of it! By the way, did I really try to shoot you during the whole hallucination thing?"

"Yes."

"Wow. Glad I missed. Otherwise, that would've really sucked." Roman shifted so that he could stretch out both arms in an upward direction. "Also, can I just go on record and say how glad I am that this mountain is jam-packed with healing stuff?"

"It's quite convenient," Snatcher agreed. "Can't even feel any pain in that shoulder. Worst it is, it's a bit stiff."

"You're telling me," Roman replied, now stretching out his right arm behind his back by gripping the elbow with his left hand. "Do you know how tense I am right now?"

"Really, Torchwick? You were hardly scraped at all."

"I took hits! Red got me hard at the end there."

"You seem to have some history with her," Snatcher pointed out.

"Did you ever know a kid that was a complete thorn in your side, turned up to ruin literally everything, and wouldn't go away no matter how many times you tried to kill her?" Roman asked.

"Make that 'her' a 'him,'" Snatcher replied, "and I'm quite familiar with the concept."

"Right. I remember now. Maybe we should trade," Roman offered. "Strangers on a Bullhead style. You can bash Red's head in for me, and I'll blast the box kid to kingdom come."

"You might just have yourself a deal, Mr. Torchwick!" Snatcher still didn't look up from the coat.

"By the way," Roman asked, switching out arms, "are you ever going to call me by my first name?"

"Perhaps," Snatcher told him dismissively.

"Where's that come from, anyway?" Roman wondered. "That whole last-name compulsion."

"Something my father drilled into me from a young age," Snatcher explained. "Men like us refer to others by their last names to show respect. Long, long after I lost respect for any of them, I had to keep up appearances. And nowadays, it's become a bit of a habit. Given names don't quite come naturally."

"All right, all right." Roman nodded. "Just so you know you really don't have to do that around here. That whole 'last names for respect' thing."

"Doesn't help that most of them don't have surnames to begin with," Snatcher pointed out. "But I'll have you know that the lot of you have earned more of my respect than anyone else I've come across." With perhaps one exception, he thought, but that was buried in the past, and certainly wouldn't be winning his respect back again.

"You are just full of flattery today!" Roman let his arms drop. "Okay, I cave. I'm not getting anywhere with this on my own. You've got those long fingers. You any good with back rubs?"

Snatcher briefly stabbed himself in the thumb with his sewing needle. After a pause, he looked up at Roman, who was calmly awaiting his answer. "…I suppose I could give it a try," he stated before reaching over to plant the needle in a pincushion on the nightstand and shoving the jacket over to lay on top of Roman's.

Roman quickly crossed to sit on the bed, turning the back of his shoulders to Snatcher. Snatcher willed his mind into thoughts of strict professionalism – and that was no small feat – as he gently placed his hands over Roman's shoulders and began digging into the skin with his fingertips.

Roman gave a light moan of approval; "Now THAT'S the stuff. Keep doing that, will ya?"

"You must be quite glad to have retrieved Miss Neopolitan," Snatcher commented. "Though I daresay she throws a bit of a wrench into your little acronym for us."

"Eh, I'm thinking we'll just not mention it to her," Roman suggested. "I just can't get an N in there! But you're right. It is good to have the dream team back together. She brings the sadism, and I bring a healthy dose of swag."

"I'm sure it will be only a matter of time before you two lovers are back to your old tricks."

"Yeah – wait, WHAT did you just call us?"

Snatcher was taken aback by Roman's outburst. "I'd gotten the sense the two of you were romantically involved," he pointed out.

"Y'know, normally, you're pretty good at reading me," Roman observed, "but you are SO off the mark here it's not funny. Neo's not my girlfriend. She's more like my overprotective big sister who thinks I'm going to explode if she doesn't keep a constant eye on me. And don't you dare point out that I died the last time she left me alone."

"I wasn't going to say anything."

"Good! Anyway, for the record, I'm on the market. In case you're interested."

Snatcher didn't know what to say to that, assuming it was one of Roman's little jokes. He didn't expect Roman to follow up by chancing it: "So…are you interested?"

Snatcher froze. He removed both hands from Roman in surprise. There was simply no way he could have heard Roman say what he thought he'd heard him say. It really must have been a joke, he realized. "Very amusing," he replied, "very hilarious. Having a little laugh at old Snatcher's expense, are we?"

"I'm serious." Roman twisted around to face Snatcher directly. "If you want me, you can totally have me."

"I don't believe it for a second," Snatcher stated coldly. "Do you know how much of a joke it became around Cheesebridge, that anyone could fancy Archibald Snatcher? I've got no delusions. I'm well aware you're looking for someone much more attractive. Younger, to boot."

"Are you KIDDING ME?" Roman blurted. "You're an evil GENIUS. You can talk your way into ANYWHERE. You've got a voice like an angel, and for the record, you're hot as hell. And, here's the best part, you're as ruthless as me. Though given all that, by all rights, I should be asking what a guy like you would even see in me!"

"Well, ambition, for one!" Snatcher replied without missing a beat. "You take what you want from the moment you see it! There's a certain unquenchable fire in you that makes you an utter delight to work with. And, I might add, you're quite good looking indeed."

"Wait," Roman realized. "You ARE into me, aren't you?"

Snatcher found himself frozen again.

"Because I'm into you," Roman went on. "And if you want me, and I want you, then I think it's pretty obvious what we should be doing. Don't you?"

Snatcher, consumed by utter disbelief, didn't say a word.

"This isn't Jerktown, home of the jerks," Roman reminded him. "Nobody's gonna take away your hat for this."

"Quite right," Snatcher relented. "Very well. I fancy you quite a bit, Torchwick. Now, if I might ask, what is it you believe we should be doing in such a circumstance?"

"Well, first of all," Roman suggested, "I think you should kiss me as hard as you can. Second, you should have one hand on my ass while doing it."

"I'll take you up on that."

Still held back by old ties to conventions and taboos, Snatcher gingerly, cautiously leaned in to press his lips lightly to Roman's. Roman responded hungrily, wrapping both arms around Snatcher's chest as he leaned hard into the kiss; his fervor broke down the last of Snatcher's reservations, and soon they were at each other in equal measure, tongues and lips seeking the best position to savor each other. As Snatcher's left hand curled up around Roman's back to find a home in his fluffy red-orange hair, his right hand moved lower as he'd been invited; Roman signaled his approval with a brief "Mmh!"

"When you're done," Mozenrath broke in, "the rest of us are waiting in the hall, and it would be nice if you could spare two seconds to actually pay attention to the rest of us."

Startled, Roman and Snatcher broke away from each other to turn and face the doorway, where the smirking Mozenrath was framed, in shock. After a pause of indeterminable length, Snatcher barked, "HAVEN'T YOU EVER HEARD OF KNOCKING?"

"I've heard of it," Mozenrath replied tauntingly. "Not that I've ever felt a need to do it."

"Can I ask you to not be a killjoy about this?" Roman sighed. "I can just TELL you have some monologue locked and loaded about not wasting our time on – "

Mozenrath held up his right hand. "Whatever you two want to do in your spare time, I don't care. Just don't forget we have work to do."

"Right!" Snatcher replied, and as he stood up, Roman decided to do the same. "To the hall it is, then!"

Mozenrath turned and left with a sweep of his cape. Snatcher faced Roman to ask, "Shall we?", offering his arm.

Roman linked his own arm right through. "We shall."

They strode out of the room together.

...

Ruby, Nora, Jaune, and Ren watched as Sora, Riku, and Kairi held a three-person conference, whispering fervently about their next course of action. Once they reached a decision, they turned back to the four warriors of Remnant.

"You have to go, don't you?" Ruby asked, already feeling a little glum about losing her new friends.

"Not exactly." Riku shook his head. "This world is filled with Darkness. There's a lot here that needs to be fixed. We can't just turn our back on it."

"But we can't let those guys get away with wrecking everything, either," Sora added. "So we're gonna split up!"

"Riku and I are going to stay here in Remnant and help clean things up a bit," Kairi explained.

"That's great!" Jaune replied.

"And I'm going back out there to see what I can find out about Roman and his new pals!" Sora added. "Between Radiant Garden, Disney Castle, and here, I get the feeling I'm gonna cross paths with them again."

"You're going to take them on all by yourself?" Ruby asked worriedly.

Sora shrugged. "I'm pretty tough. I took on that guy with the black cape once already."

"There are still more of them than there is of you," Ruby pointed out.

"Hey…" Sora had a thought. "If any of you wanted to come with me, you sure could!"

"Really?" Ruby squealed. "Not that…I was wanting to go see other worlds or anything…" She rocked on her feet.

"You should TOTALLY come with me, then!" Sora emphasized. "I think you'd love it! It'll be an adventure!"

"Umm…" Jaune pulled Ruby aside for a moment. "Just a minute." He whispered into Ruby's ear, "Do you really think that's safe? Just going off this world with him?"

"You think I can't take care of myself?" Ruby whispered back.

"Point," Jaune admitted.

"Anyway," Ruby teased, "you must be happy that Kairi's staying behind."

"Wha…why would I…that's silly!" Jaune sputtered.

"Don't think I didn't notice!" Ruby hissed.

Sora turned to Riku while Ruby and Jaune were occupied: "Don't forget about me while I'm out there, okay?"

"Like I could forget you even if I wanted to," Riku laughed. "Not even Naminé made me forget you, remember?"

"No matter what," Sora reminded him, "we'll be under the same sky."

He then surprised Riku by giving him a brief, tight hug. After a moment's hesitation, Riku returned the embrace. "Go show them why they don't mess with our friends," he told Sora.

"Oh, I will!" Sora promised.

Nora leaned in close to Kairi, asking softly, "Are those two…?" She formed both her hands into a heart shape.

"Not yet," Kairi replied with a grin. "But I'm sure it's just a matter of time."

As Sora broke away from Riku, Ruby skipped over to his side to join him. "Ready to go?" he asked.

"Am I ever!" Ruby replied. She looked back to the others; "Bye, everyone!"

"We'll be sure to come back and visit!" Sora promised.

"Be safe out there!" Nora called out.

As Sora and Ruby turned away, they found Qrow leaning against a nearby wall. "Y'know," he told Ruby, "your dad won't be happy about this."

"I know," Ruby replied solemnly.

"It's still your choice to make," Qrow reminded her.

"I just…I want to see what else is out there," Ruby told him. "And I get the feeling that there are people out there who might need me. Just like we needed Sora, Riku, and Kairi's help."

Qrow nodded. "Then do what you think is best. And as for you…" He turned his gaze to Sora. "You better make sure my niece doesn't get hurt out there. I don't care how many worlds away you go. I can find a way to get to you if something happens to her, and it won't be pretty for you."

"You have nothing to worry about, Qrow," Sora promised, flashing him a thumbs-up.

"You're a good kid," Qrow told Sora. "Now get the show on the road already, would ya?"

Sora and Ruby waved back over their shoulder at their friends until they had walked out of sight.

"Race you to the Gummi Ship?" Sora proposed.

"You're on!" Ruby laughed before taking off.

Too late, Sora remembered her speed Semblance. "Hey, no fair!" he laughed as he broke into a run, trying to keep up with the speeding red bullet.

...

The Huntsman, Yzma, Wuya, Mim, Aghoul, Neo, Roman, and Snatcher gathered around the diagram etched into the floor of Judgment Hall, watching Mozenrath in the center of it. The crates of Dust were piled around the hall haphazardly; with a flick of the wrist, Mozenrath removed the lid from one of them via magic. He repeated the process until each crate was open, then he raised his glowing hand. One crystal of each color floated gently up toward the gauntlet as though it were a magnet. When the crystals had settled into a gentle orbit around Mozenrath's raised hand, the sorcerer plucked a red one from the lineup, crushing it to powder and trickling it on the floor. He repeated the process with a yellow, a green, two shades of blue, an orange, and a white. Once the floor was coated in fine powder, Mozenrath knelt down to scoop up a handful, getting some of each color into his hand. He pressed his fist together hard, molding the powder into a new crystal, one that shimmered with all the colors of the rainbow. Transferring the multicolored Dust crystal into his left hand, Mozenrath conjured up a wind to blow all the excess Dust away. He then gently set the newly forged crystal on the adjacent line to the container that held the miniaturized Cornerstone of Light.

"Two down," he announced. "Ten to go."

"This calls for a celebration!" Yzma announced.

"Anyone else in the mood for karaoke?" Wuya suggested.

"Can Miss Neopolitan even sing?" Snatcher wondered out loud.

"She likes to watch people make fools out of themselves at the microphone," Roman explained. "Though that'll be in short supply in this group."

"You don't hear yourself when you sing, do you?" Aghoul commented, prompting Neo to silently snicker; she knew full well how little talent Roman had in the singing department.

"I'm in a good mood," Mozenrath remarked. "Karaoke it is. Drinks are on me." He paused to think it over. "…Decaf only."


	13. Battle for True Ice Cream

13\. Battle for True Ice Cream

Mozenrath had decided the WHAM ARMY (plus Neo) would benefit from regular staff meetings. That was how he, the Huntsman, Wuya, Yzma, Snatcher, Roman, Mim, Aghoul, Neo, and Xerxes ended up around a table in the castle kitchen, pitching suggestions.

"I'd like to make the motion again for a torture chamber," Aghoul stated, and Mim backed him up with an enthusiastic nod.

"I think we can work something out," Mozenrath told him. "Just so long as you don't use it on anyone currently in this room."

"Of course not!" Aghoul replied sweetly, and Mozenrath wondered if he'd had good reason to make that stipulation necessary.

"And I'd like to make the motion for a dance floor," Yzma threw in.

Mozenrath stared her down before delivering a blunt "No."

"Well, too bad," Wuya informed him. "I already installed one in the underground tunnels."

"Do I have any control over this army?" Mozenrath asked her.

Wuya just shrugged playfully.

"As our last item of business," Mozenrath brought up, "now that there are nine of us – "

"Xerxes make ten," Xerxes said with a pout. It hadn't escaped him that he hadn't been involved in the collection of the past two elements.

He was ignored. "We can double our productivity by splitting into subfactions to cover different agendas," Mozenrath stated. "However, since only four of us can produce Corridors of Darkness or teleport in any form, we'll have to arrange something for our nonmagical members to be able to travel the worlds at will."

"A gummi ship would work perfectly!" Mim suggested.

"And there are several worlds in which we could obtain one," Mozenrath pointed out.

"You know, that Cid from Radiant Garden is a gummi mechanic," Mim lobbied.

"And there's quite a sizeable laboratory in Disney Castle where they construct gummi ships of all sorts!" Yzma added.

"If we return to either of those worlds, we'll have to be careful," Mozenrath warned. "Now that they know who we are and what we're capable of, we don't want to bring any more trouble down on our heads until we find a way to take care of the upstarts with the Keyblades. And then there's the matter of Maleficent. She has Cinder Fall on her side now, and that doesn't bode well for us."

"I was having an off day!" Aghoul folded his arms.

"The Datascape might provide more insight about which of those worlds is the better offer for us," Mozenrath decided. "A party of us will launch an expedition to retrieve a ship tomorrow. Any last business before we adjourn?"

"Neo would like to motion for a waterslide in the back yard," Roman offered. No one knew exactly how Neo had communicated that to Roman, but her enthusiastic nod of approval was enough proof that the suggestion had indeed come from her.

"I'm going to have to give that another no," Mozenrath sighed. "And Wuya says – "

"Give me five minutes, and you've got one," Wuya picked up.

"I have no control over anything anymore," Mozenrath sighed.

"Anymore?" Aghoul repeated. "That implies you had control over us in the first place."

"That will be enough insubordination," the Huntsman snapped.

"Adjourned," Mozenrath decided.

...

Mozenrath had gotten in the habit of reading himself to sleep. It just so happened that Asgore, the former king of the subterranean lands, had left his journal behind in what was now Mozenrath's bedroom. It had been an act of putting the past behind him, leaving the deeds he'd done imprisoned under the mountain where once he had been so that he could focus on what came next. However, Mozenrath, not knowing this, just assumed the idiot had forgotten his book. It made for good reading, as it contained a lot of technical knowledge about the underground: names of locations, purposes of buildings, chronicles of events.

As Mozenrath curled up in his bed, flipping through the latest set of pages, he found himself enjoying the saga, as though it were a fictional account written for entertainment. After the tragic loss of his son – well, it was tragic within the confines of the story, anyway; Mozenrath felt no sorrow over it – Asgore turned from grace, deciding to kill the next human who fell into the underground. That human just so happened to be a child, with her hair up in a ribbon and waving about a toy knife, declaring she would beat Asgore in a fight. The child was sadly mistaken; Asgore defeated her quickly, and though it pained him, he took her life…

And what he did next made Mozenrath stop and stare at the page for a solid ten seconds.

After re-reading the passage, Mozenrath scrambled out of bed, still clutching the book, bolting toward another part of the castle. He'd seen it before: between Judgment Hall and the throne room, there was a gray chamber, unremarkable but for the seven coffins laid out in a row. Each of these coffins was engraved with a design of a heart in a different bright color. And all of them were empty. Mozenrath levitated the lid of the one marked with a light blue heart, hoping against hope that this time, there would be something in it. But there was nothing.

He sat down on the floor next to the row of coffins, continuing to read. Perhaps the journal would explain what had happened. Instead, he only found more mysteries. Only one of these coffins, the one marked with a red heart, was supposed to be empty. The body and soul in it had been removed by the king's ex-wife. But she hadn't done the same to any of the others, at least not according to the journal.

Soon, Mozenrath ran out of pages. He flipped through the blank ones at the end of the book fruitlessly. The coffins shouldn't have been empty! They should have contained bodies…and, more importantly, souls!

The sorcerer tore through the upper part of the castle, searching his bedroom again as well as every corner of the throne room. He even tested the walls of Judgment Hall for secret passageways. But all to no avail.

Asgore had stored away six dead human souls. And all of them were missing.

...

A few moments later, a very disgruntled Aghoul, Mim, Huntsman, Wuya, Roman, Snatcher, and Neo stood around the diagram on the Judgment Hall floor, clad in various styles of sleepwear.

"Whatever reason Mozenrath had for breaking into our rooms in the dead of night and dragging us up here," Wuya seethed, "it had better be a good one."

"I was in the middle of my beauty sleep!" Aghoul protested.

"And I was in the middle of the most pleasant nightmare!" Mim asserted.

The Huntsman self-consciously tugged at his helmet to straighten it. Mozenrath had happened upon him trying to fall asleep as well, meaning the sorcerer had seen his bare face yet again. The Huntsman had quickly wrapped up his head when he realized an emergency meeting was being called.

"One of these days, he's going to pop in on one of us doing something we would rather not have him see," Wuya seethed.

"ONE of these days?" Roman countered. "Try TONIGHT."

"And THAT'S enough on that subject," Snatcher quickly followed up.

"You two weren't…?" Mim asked, suspicious.

"Not YET," Roman replied. "But if Righty had turned up a few minutes later, he would've seen – "

He was cut off when Snatcher elbowed him in the stomach hard, prompting him to shut up.

When Mozenrath turned up for the final time, it was with a seething Yzma in tow. "Now that we're all gathered – " Mozenrath attempted.

All but one audibly recoiled from the sight of Yzma, who it turned out had no hair to speak of and slept with the cream of a beautification mask spread out over her face. As most expressed disgust, Wuya merely sighed; "Oh, please. Some people just can't handle the lengths we need to go to for our beauty."

"Do you mind telling me," Yzma hissed through gritted teeth, "exactly WHY WE ALL NEEDED TO COME OUT HERE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT?"

"Allow me to enlighten you," Mozenrath began, striding into the center of the floor pattern. "Long ago, the former king of this subterranean empire – "

"I wouldn't call it an empire," Yzma interrupted. "It's really more of a petty kingdom."

"Of this subterranean empire," Mozenrath continued, "lost his son. Boo hoo. To consolidate a long story of unnecessary drama, he thought he could break the magical barrier that used to separate this mountain off from the outside world by killing humans and harvesting their souls. It would have taken seven souls to break the spell." He held up the journal. "And here, I have documentation that he succeeded in collecting six. Six dead souls, separated from their bodies. In other words, a perfect representation of the element of death."

"Where are these souls now?" the Huntsman asked.

"Not where they're supposed to be," Mozenrath growled. "They should have been HERE somewhere. But they're not."

"YOU WOKE US ALL UP TO TELL US THAT SOMETHING WE NEED ISN'T EVEN HERE?" Yzma screeched.

"It is, and it isn't," Mozenrath clarified. "The only thing I can think of is that Asgore moved them after he left this kingdom so that no one could use them for what we wanted to use them for. Those souls are still out there. They're on this world. We just have to find out exactly where."

After a dramatic pause, Wuya remarked, "Still no reason to wake us all up." Everyone else took this as a signal to turn around and retreat for their chambers.

"Fine," Mozenrath relented, "but we're discussing this in the morning." He vanished, headed back to his own bedroom.

Xerxes zoomed into the hall, crying out, "Mozenrath! Heard you waking everyone up! What happen?" However, no one remained behind to answer him.

...

The next morning, when everyone was in a much better mood, they reconvened to split up assignments. It was obvious that both the missing souls and the gummi ship had to be attended to, so it was decided that those with magic – Mozenrath, Wuya, Mim, Aghoul - would portal out to Radiant Garden to try and snag a gummi ship from Cid Highwind himself while the others remained behind at Mt. Ebott to plan a search for the souls.

"And remember," Mozenrath cautioned Roman, Snatcher, Yzma, the Huntsman, and Neo. "We have to keep a low profile. So far, the only one around here who's ruined his reputation is Roman. As much as I appreciate a good hostile takeover, we have a strong safety net here at the moment. Drawing attention to ourselves with violent crimes – again, barring Torchwick – has the potential to ruin that."

"You've absolutely nothing to worry about," Snatcher reassured him. "If there's one thing I know how to do, it's carry out a scheme right under the noses of the unsuspecting. We shall utilize naught but the most careful of subterfuge and deception."

"We'll be incorporating a fair amount of subterfuge and deception ourselves," Mozenrath stated to remind his three traveling companions. "After all, we all remember what happened last time we charged into that world with gauntlets blazing."

"I hope you have a contingency plan worked out so we aren't recognized in the streets," Wuya brought up.

"Just trust me," Mozenrath reassured her. "You'll see when we get there."

He cast the Corridor, and Mim skipped eagerly through, followed by Aghoul, Wuya, and Mozenrath himself. As soon as it closed, Snatcher turned to his fellows: "Right then! We've now got work to do!"

...

Once more, Maleficent and her fellows ringed the central chamber of Villain's Vale, though this time, Cinder Fall took her place among the group against the wall. A newcomer stood in the center of the room, giving everyone watching her a glance of disapproval before turning her attention to Maleficent herself.

"And why have you summoned me here?" the evil queen Grimhilde asked haughtily, crossing her arms before her.

"For your particular talent in scrying," Maleficent replied. "A mission calls us away from this castle, but we need someone to watch over this world."

"What manner of mission calls you all away from this world?" Grimhilde asked disparagingly. "And furthermore, what am I to watch for?"

"We seek, as ever, the Book of Prophecy," Maleficent explained. "It has come to our attention that this book, or one of similar name, was last held in the possession of a master of Darkness sealed away in the realm of Briarwood."

"And you know how that world is, babe," Hades picked up. "Full of wannabes who like to 'play hero.'"

"The snow sorceress does not scare me," Cinder stated.

"Perhaps not on her own," Jafar replied, "but put her powers in combination with the wolf knight and their Mystic Rangers…it may just be too much for your poor heart to handle."

"I think you'll be surprised at how much this 'poor heart' can take," Cinder told Jafar coldly. "Besides. Like Maleficent said, the vampire who was closest to the Master no longer has her power. This will be easy."

"I understand," Grimhilde stated. "To stand against the Mystic Force requires all of your power. However, I still demand to know what I am to scry for in the Mirror."

"A new enemy," Maleficent explained. "He made his presence known to us not long ago."

She extended her staff toward the center of the room, and just before Grimhilde, a magically projected image hung in the air: Mozenrath, bragging to Maleficent's council just before his condemnation to Tartarus. "He disappeared to a realm unknown," Maleficent clarified, "but soon reappeared on this world…a most unwise choice. He allowed himself to be seen, and his allies identified." The image changed rapidly to Mim, to Aghoul, to Wuya. "And the technology he acquired from this world was later used in Disney Town, which is also under my surveillance. In this manner, he allowed me a glimpse at four more of his companions." The projection became Roman, Snatcher, Yzma, the Huntsman. "I have been watching every one of their homeworlds in case they return. And lo, they set foot on one of their points of origin, allowing me to easily locate them and identify their ninth ally." Now the image was Neo; and now it disappeared entirely.

Maleficent allowed herself the slightest laugh. "As foes…they are pitiful. Hardly a threat. However, they have proven themselves adept at playing the coward and running for cover. They have managed to evade us time and time again. Your task is to ensure that should they return to this world, they are not so fortunate."

"And what makes you think they will return to this world?" Grimhilde asked.

"They've got the brains of jellyfish," Ursula chuckled.

"And the spines to match," Cinder contributed.

"Very well," Grimhilde agreed. "I shall use my Mirror to scour this world for signs of this…"

"Mozenrath," Jafar supplied.

"And should he show his face," Grimhilde continued, "it sounds as though I will be more than equipped to handle him."

"All the same," Maleficent informed the queen, "I have taken the liberty of assigning you a partner. If Mozenrath should give you trouble, she should be able to lend you necessary muscle."

"And who is this partner?" Grimhilde demanded, casting her gaze around the room.

"Don't look at me!" Ursula laughed. "I'm looking forward to putting a collar on the wolf knight."

"She should be arriving…" Maleficent predicted.

A pair of heels tap-tapped their way down the hall.

"…Now," Maleficent announced.

The woman who entered the room seemed to be more fur coat than human being. "Maleficent, DARLING!" the woman of half-black and half-white hair gushed. "How long has it been? We really must get together more often!"

"This is my…ally?" Grimhilde raised an immaculately plucked brow.

"What is she talking about?" the newcomer asked, eyeing Grimhilde up.

"Grimhilde," Maleficent explained, "you shall work together with Cruella de Vil to eliminate any pest problems you may encounter."

"I do not see how she is to be muscle," Grimhilde said suspiciously, her gaze traveling over Cruella's thin frame. "She has hardly any."

"Such impudence!" Cruella huffed. "And we've only just met! Maleficent, dear, couldn't you have given me less of a stiff to work with?"

"You WILL put your talents together to eliminate our enemy," Maleficent threatened. "Otherwise, you risk disappointing me."

"Oh, that wasn't my intention at all, dear!" Cruella gushed with a great toothy smile upon her face.

Grimhilde wondered what Cruella was trying to prove. She didn't feel intimidated by Maleficent one bit, herself, but was merely staying silent on the fact in order to avoid a fight breaking out. Cruella's sucking up to Maleficent was a disgusting display.

"Do not fail me," Maleficent threatened as she put up a Corridor of Darkness, turning to stalk through it. One by one, Ursula, Hades, Jafar, Cinder, and Pete followed, and as the Corridor closed, it left Grimhilde and Cruella alone in Villain's Vale.

"You will give me enough space to place my Mirror," Grimhilde told Cruella sternly.

"But of course, darling!" Cruella replied, the same sickeningly sweet expression upon her face. Grimhilde couldn't stand it. She had no idea if Cruella was sincere or putting up a charade. "In the meantime, if you don't mind, I'm going to set up a few things of my own."

"Weapons, I presume," Grimhilde guessed. "Or magic."

"No, darling, my ensembles!" Cruella told her. "I couldn't come all this way without them!"

"Surely you did not need to bring a change of clothing for a mere sentry post," Grimhilde criticized.

"Didn't Maleficent tell you?" Cruella said on her way out of the room to retrieve a stack of luggage. "I'm moving in."

Grimhilde gritted her teeth. She'd been given the same offer by Maleficent: to stay on the Villain's Vale grounds and conduct her work as part of the squadron. "As am I," Grimhilde seethed.

"Well, then I suppose we're roommates." Cruella's voice echoed through the hall as she disappeared down it. "Or castle-mates, as the situation is!" She let out a laugh that was as full of as much mirth as she was capable of.

Grimhilde steeled herself for an altogether too long sentry mission.

...

"First things first!" Yzma pounded her fist into her hand as she began to pace back and forth in front of a lineup of Snatcher, Roman, Neo, and the Huntsman. "We shall need to figure out where the king has gone, as well as all of his companions, without drawing attention to ourselves through overt hostility. To this, we will need to concoct an ingenious plan, and I do believe one is coming to me. Yes, yes! I can see it now! We shall contaminate the entire town's water with a potion that causes everyone to forget the events of everything past the exact date that the monsters of this mountain rejoined human society! Thinking it to be that day, the press offices will deliver papers tailored to that date, making sure to cover the immigration of the monsters and where many of them have gone! Then all we need to do is purchase a house in downtown Knightdock and the newspaper will be delivered straight to our door! After we have obtained the information, we will then sell the house and fill the city water with the antidote to the first potion, causing everyone to remember everything up to the present day so that we may move about and interrogate the king! It's absolutely BRILLIANT! GENIUS, I SAY!"

"Newspaper offices keep archives of old papers," the Huntsman pointed out. "We could simply walk into the office and ask for articles from the day the monsters moved aboveground."

"Hmm…" Yzma considered it. "I suppose that would save us on mortgage payments."

"It shall be our course of action," the Huntsman asserted.

"You know the downside of that, though?" Roman pointed out. "They'll probably charge us to take copies home. That, or they stick us in a stuffy office while we try and find what we want. And isn't it so much better to have those things all to ourselves for free?"

"So you're saying we rob the newspaper office," Yzma clarified.

"I am exactly saying we rob the newspaper office!" Roman exclaimed happily. "Or, to be specific, I rob the newspaper office. My cred is already ruined around here, remember? I can afford to make a scene. Besides, we're getting a little low in the funds department."

"I'm also almost out of toilet paper," Yzma added.

"Just put it on the list," Roman told her. "When I go out for general errands this afternoon, I'll pick up a bundle of newspapers. Simple as that."

"Would that the rest of us were allowed to cause a disturbance," the Huntsman muttered. "I grow tired of living amongst monsters. If I could have my way with them…"

"Perhaps you will, in time," Snatcher suggested.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" the Huntsman asked.

"See, I've been thinking of some plans myself," Snatcher admitted. "But all shall be revealed in time."

"I don't even know what you're thinking," Roman told Snatcher, "but I KNOW it's brilliant."

"Not as brilliant as the amnesia potion," Yzma huffed under her breath.

"Truly, you flatter me, Torchwick," Snatcher replied. "Have fun on your rounds, won't you?" He stepped forward to plant a quick kiss on Roman's cheek.

"Oh, I will," Roman responded before returning the kiss, a brief peck right on the lips.

Neo sweetly clasped her hands and brought them up past her face in a gesture somewhere between approval and mockery.

Yzma, in the meantime, had produced a bedazzled notepad from a pocket and was using an overly large feather quill pen to jot down a list of supplies on it, which she then ripped out and handed roughly to Roman. With a point of the fingers and a click of the tongue, Roman was on his way.

"You're going to wait until he gets out of sight," Snatcher said to Neo, "then discreetly follow him to make sure he doesn't get into trouble, aren't you?"  
Neo turned to Snatcher and nodded fervently. After counting a few more seconds, she took off after Roman, shifting into a new look in order to keep discreet.

"Pity we do have to sneak around," Yzma sighed. "If we could take a more direct route, I would have quite the plan in place."

"Do enlighten us," Snatcher encouraged.

"We begin with an ordinary sized rat," Yzma related. "Then, after creating a device that would allow us to shrink other things in order to grow this rat to an enormous size – "

"I don't even know where this ends," Snatcher sighed, "but it's already the most idiotic plan I've ever heard in my life."

...

Even was fed up.

There was a time he had been given free reign to work his experiments upon the world. A time he had ranked fourth in a group of thirteen, commanding respect (though perhaps he remembered being more powerful than he actually had been). A time when he had created people out of practically nothing and made them into powerful weapons. His intellect and skill had brought strong warriors to their knees and laid their memories – their insecurities and fears – bare for him to see! He had even maddened Keybearers!

And yes, perhaps there had been a time before that when he had worked peacefully under Ansem the Wise, putting his talents toward minor experiments regarding the nature of the heart. Experiments that went nowhere, and ultimately served Ansem the Wise more than anyone else. Those were the times Even didn't care to remember. However, they were the times he'd been seemingly returned to. When he'd awoken with his body and heart intact, which was admittedly jarringly pleasant after the fear (but was it really fear?) that he would simply fade into nonexistence, he'd been greeted by an all too enthusiastic Ienzo, Aeleus, and Lea – Lea! The one who'd sent him to what they'd both thought would be his grave! – welcoming him back to the world of the living and encouraging him to join them in nobler causes. And, believing that to be the destiny he was now meant for, Even had agreed to take up his old mantle as a scientist of Radiant Garden, serving the people at large and teaming up with the Restoration Committee.

And he hated every minute of it.

As he stalked through the halls of the castle to get to the library, he passed Aerith, who chipperly greeted him: "Good morning, Even!"

"Maybe it is for you," he snapped. All he could see before him was another humdrum day where he faded into the background and wasn't much use at all. That, or anything useful he did would immediately be credited to the Committee.

Turning a corner, he came across Yuffie, who was in the middle of a story she related to Leon: "And then I whipped out my shuriken, and I got 'em like THIS!" She launched the small metal projectile across the hall until it was embedded in the far wall; it passed an inch from Even's nose. Even recoiled, his heart thudding rapidly in his chest.

"Oh my gosh!" Yuffie squeaked. "Sorry, Even!"

Even scowled. He had thought that being a Nobody was undesirable when he was one, but now that he wasn't, he realized that having no heart…or at least having less of one, as Xemnas had been trying to fill him up with the emotions of Xehanort…came with a certain set of perks. For one, while having a close call with a weapon was always jarring, it didn't leave him with palpitations that lasted long after the danger had passed. Now, it was a different story. "Sorry?" he snapped. "You could have grievously hurt me! Be more careful!"

"Why do you always have to be such a jerk?" Yuffie retorted.

"I only give people what they deserve," Even huffed before striding down the hallway.

As soon as he entered the library, he was met with a rather flustered Ienzo. "Even! Thank goodness. This is…quite embarrassing. You see, I wanted to retrieve that Nahara volume from the top shelf, but I can't quite seem to reach it. You're much taller than I am. Would you mind – "

Even crossed the room in three quick steps, reaching up to grab the book and practically throwing it at Ienzo. This was by and large the worst part of his existence: having to look after Ienzo. Somehow, he didn't seem to have memories of the man being this annoying ten years ago, when he was but a child. True, he didn't have to watch over him every second, but Ienzo seemed to think they shared some sort of bond from those days, and so was always relying on him for things like the retrieval of books and the occasional help making dinner for the group at large. Even had no interest in babysitting a grown man.

"Thank you, Even!" Ienzo told him gladly.

"Now that you're satisfied," Even snapped, "can you leave me to read in peace?"

"Of course." Ienzo nodded and scurried out of the room, flicking open the book he held in his hands.

Even sat down to one of the tables with a volume of his own, reading up on memory theory. Such a pity that so many of his old experiments were tied to Castle Oblivion and Naminé. He doubted he would ever be able to recreate them again. Perhaps he had created his final replicas in those days. If only, he thought, he could replicate himself. Then he might be able to brainwash the replica into liking the drudgery the Committee put him through while the real thing made a getaway somewhere more pleasant.

"Hey," a voice broke in. "Sorry to bother while you're readin' but – "

"Oh, WHAT is it?" Even slammed his book down on the table to see Lea standing at the opposite end of it. Lea: his absolute least favorite person in the entire world. Did the man really think he could get away with killing Even (or Vexen, as the case was) and crawling back to him expecting him to be friends immediately afterward?

"First of all, I wanted to say thanks for your help with the Mega-Ethers," Lea began. "Those things pack a punch."

"Synthesizing a Mega-Ether is an incredibly simple process that even a Moogle can do," Even snapped. "I'm surprised you needed me to do such a basic thing."

"Yeah, well, nobody does stuff like that the way you do," Lea went on. He then proceeded to look up at where pipes crisscrossed the ceiling: "Also, great work on those pipes. They were leaking raw magic everywhere, and we all know how dangerous that is."

"I should say it was great work," Even replied. "After all, I was in charge of these pipes for years during my apprenticeship with Ansem the Wise. Without my hand, it's no wonder they fell into such disarray. Now, will you cease with the pleasantries and tell me what it is you want?"

"That transparent, huh?" Lea scratched the back of his head; a nervous habit. "There was somethin' I wanted to ask ya."

"Out with it."

"Word on the street is Maleficent might've called in some new guys. Nobody wants to get close enough to the Vale to find out, and I don't blame 'em. I was tryin' to see if I could get any info by snooping around town, but I turned up nothing. I never was a recon guy back in the Organization. But thinking about that, I remembered you were always the best at recon. And then I thought maybe, just maybe, if you went out into town, you could sniff out some clues without having to get too close to the danger zone."

Even didn't want to admit he was flattered. After all, it should have been common knowledge that reconnaissance was his forte. "I'll see what I can do," he resolved, shutting his book.

"Thanks," Lea replied. "Means a lot."

All Even gave him in response was a "Hmph" as he got up from his seat to move toward the door.

"Hey. Even."

Even stopped momentarily, bothering to listen but not to turn and look at Lea.

"I know things have been…kinda awkward," Lea admitted. "I did…a lot of stuff I'm not proud of. And torching you was one of 'em. I wanna blame the fact that I didn't have a heart, but still…I shoulda known better. I hope there's no hard feelings, but if there are, I really don't blame you. I just want you to know I'm sorry."

Even paused a moment, not out of empathy but out of decorum. Perhaps there were still remnants within him that knew how to stop feeling when it counted most. "That may have been the most sensible thing you've ever said in your lifetime," he delivered before vacating the premises.

Lea wasn't sure how to read that at all. But he supposed he didn't deserve much better than that from Even. Though Vexen had been an evildoer and a threat, Lea had still struck him when he was defenseless, and for very unsavory reasons. As he watched the blond scientist go, he steeled himself with the thought that the past couldn't be undone. All that was left was to try and improve the future.

...

"You're bluffing," the grocery store shelf stocker told Roman.

"Am I?" Roman countered playfully.

The stocker looked down at the barrel of the gun pointed to his chest. "Go ahead," he dared. "Shoot me. I can't get you what you want if I'm dead."

"You're right, aren't you?" Roman realized. "So how about this. Hand over the toilet paper, free of charge, or I blow the head off this innocent customer…" He swung the Cudgel around to point at the forehead of a nearby young blonde woman in a green sundress and twirling a parasol. "…Who is waaaaaay too happy about being my hostage," Roman concluded, trying to decipher the blonde's smirk.

He got his answer when her eyes briefly flickered from green to pink and white.

Neo.

Roman bit back a curse, angry that she'd still seen the need to supervise him, but he knew he couldn't give the game away. "Or, better yet," he suggested, swinging the Cudgel around to a man with a toddler who had just entered the aisle unwittingly, "how about the kid?"

Roman left with as much toilet paper as he could carry, and his wallet not a cent lighter.

"You really don't have to follow me EVERYWHERE, you know," he grumbled at Neo.

He could feel the glare she was giving the back of his head without even turning to look.

"They're going to catch on if they see ANYONE following me," he pointed out. "No matter what she looks like."

She was still glaring, and he knew it.

"It was a fluke!" he groaned. "I'm still pretty sure I wasn't even supposed to die that way! Now will you buzz off and go steal some ice cream or something? We're passing a stand right now."

Neo had to admit that she didn't want to draw suspicion, even if the face of this "accomplice" would never be seen again after that day. She also had to admit that she was growing hungry. As she turned to regard the stand, she caught an eyeful of a blue-skinned fish woman with a ponytail purchasing and walking off with an ice cream cone twelve scoops high, and all different flavors. Neo didn't have to think twice. To her, it was to be a mere errand to track the woman down a few feet, overtake her, and nab the ice cream. Then she could get back to watching Roman more discreetly.

Roman, hearing the footsteps that signaled Neo's departure, cast his gaze around for his next target. First, he tucked the toilet paper away in an enchanted bag Mim had made for him to carry around in his pocket, letting him store more than he could carry in his hands and prompting everyone to ask why she hadn't thought to outfit the group with such purses before the Cornerstone of Light heist (to which Mim had reminded them that needing to bring in the Claymores had provided them with far better entertainment, and had they just bagged the Cornerstone and left, they wouldn't have heard about the Datascape in the first place). Then he turned to look at the nearby gas station. He was feeling peckish himself, and in the mood for easily accessible candy. It was like fate.

Undyne hated ice cream. First of all, it was human food, and she still wasn't used to the stuff. Second, it was crammed with sugar, and everyone knew that sugar rotted your fighting spirit. However, she still found herself headed down to the beach with twelve scoops on a cone and no regrets. She knew Dr. Alphys would be waiting there for their meetup, and Alphys had developed such a sweet tooth for human food whereas Undyne had developed a sweet tooth for Alphys. The ice cream cone was to be a surprise gift.

Her warrior's instincts picked up the sound of footsteps crossing the sandy beach at a quick pace. Someone was bearing down on her. Then there came the slight, metallic noise of a long blade being unsheathed. Undyne twisted her body off course; Neo's parasol sword stabbed into empty air.

"So it's a FIGHT you want, is it?" Undyne growled.

Neo turned to look at Undyne, deliberating just pointing to the ice cream. But she knew that it wouldn't be entirely true to imply she didn't want a fight, so she nodded affirmation.

"I can see what kind of human you are!" Undyne snapped. "The kind who draws her sword and looks to pick a fight with innocents!"

Neo shrugged, never losing her smile.

"Well, you picked a fight with the WRONG monster!" Undyne laughed. In her free hand, a massive spear formed completely of electric blue magic formed, and she swiped it out at Neo. Neo dodged it easily, but as the spear passed by, she felt a jolt. Undyne had done something to her aura, but Neo couldn't quite tell what. Neo stepped back…only to find that her muscles wouldn't allow her to. She jerked backward, then turned completely around and tried to run away; whatever Undyne had done with her magic, it was preventing Neo from leaving Undyne's vicinity. Her muscles slowed and halted every time, as though the further away she got from Undyne, the thicker of a sticky liquid she was trying to wade through. Moving back toward Undyne reversed the effect.

"There'll be NO running!" Undyne pointed her spear heroically toward the sky. "Not until you learn to face the consequences of your actions!"

Neo was starting to believe she had in fact chosen exactly the wrong person to try and take ice cream from.

A few blocks away, the sound of "HELP! I'M BEING ROBBED AT GUNPOINT!" rang out from the gas station. Then came a bang, and Roman left the station with his pockets full of candy. (A faint voice from the gas station called out "I'm okay! Owwwwwww.") "All in all," Roman summed up, popping a licorice bite into his mouth, "it has been a GOOD day so far."

"EXCUSE ME, HUMAN!" a voice broke in.

"Huh?" Roman turned to find the source of the voice.

A tall skeleton wearing a breastplate, a garment that was somewhere between a tasset and hot pants, and a ragged red cape had addressed him. "WOULD YOU HAPPEN TO BE THE ONE WHO ROBBED THAT GAS STATION AT GUNPOINT?"

"Yeeeeees…" Roman replied, not sure where this was going.

"AHA!" The skeleton pointed dramatically at Roman. "IN THAT CASE, EVILDOER, I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, MUST BRING YOU TO JUSTICE! I DEMAND YOU RETURN THE THINGS YOU STOLE THIS INSTANT!"

"And I demand you get your head blown to bits." Roman raised the Cudgel, ready to pull the trigger.

"WELL, THAT'S NOT VERY NICE," Papyrus replied. "IN FACT, THAT'S DOWNRIGHT RUDE!"

"What do you expect?" Roman laughed as he pulled the trigger.

The first blast ricocheted harmlessly off a wall of bright blue bones that had appeared in midair from nowhere.

"WHAT THE – " Roman gaped at where his attack had failed.

"AND NOW, THE PART WHERE I BRING YOU TO JUSTICE!" Papyrus announced, and a wave of magically created bones rose up out of the street to knock into Roman and send him flying, landing on his back.

"Why, you LITTLE – " Roman scrambled to his feet only to find there were several more bones flying at his face. He parried each one with the Cudgel's shaft.

As Papyrus sent more and more bones flying at Roman, he decided to try and reason with him: "UNDER WHAT CIRCUMSTANCES WOULD YOU GIVE BACK THAT STOLEN CANDY?"

"UNDER? More like OVER YOUR DEAD BODY. Or maybe you're already dead. I don't know how you skeletons work – " Roman's tirade distracted him from parrying, and a bone the size of a tibia hit him in the face.

"I'M WARNING YOU!" Papyrus announced. "I MAY BE GOING EASY ON YOU NOW, BUT IF YOU CONTINUE YOUR EVIL WAYS, YOU'LL FORCE ME TO USE MY SPECIAL ATTACK!" After a pause: "ARE YOU SURE WE CAN'T JUST TALK THIS OUT OVER SPAGHETTI?"

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?" Roman bellowed, finally seeing an opportunity to strike. He charged up a shot, hooked it on the Cudgel, sent it flying –

It struck another wall of blue bones and turned into a shower of sparks that rained down onto the street.

By then, a large crowd had gathered to watch the duel between their hometown hero and public enemy number one. A few had even brought out their phones either to record footage or dial the police.

Roman was really getting frustrated with this Papyrus character, especially since he was apparently getting beaten by the skeleton going easy on him. He felt a sudden shift in his aura, once again distracting him long enough for more bone projectiles to pummel him.

"I HOPE YOU'RE ENJOYING MY BLUE ATTACK!" Papyrus boasted.

Now that Roman really looked, his skin was glowing a faint blue. Was that literally the only thing Papyrus had done besides the normal attacks? Roman went back to parrying, trying to swat the bones hard enough to send them flying back at Papyrus. Strangely enough, he observed, he was able to catch a couple of the blue ones and launch them back at their source, but when Papyrus stood stock-still, the blue projectiles passed right through him as though they were air.

"WILL YOU JUST DIE?" Roman screamed.

"THAT'S IT!" Papyrus yelled in return. "YOU'VE JUST ASKED TO GET HIT WITH MY SPECIAL ATTACK! BEHOLD, HUMAN! MY SPECIAL ATTACK!"

All attacks abruptly ceased. Roman and Papyrus stared at each other for a moment before Roman asked, "Sooooo…is something supposed to be happening?"

"OH, NOT AGAIN!" Papyrus wailed. "WHY DOES THIS ALWAYS HAPPEN TO ME?"

Across town, a fluffy white dog buried the last of several bones, feeling very proud of itself.

"OH, WELL!" Papyrus resolved. "LOOKS LIKE I'LL HAVE TO JUST USE A REGULAR ATTACK. AGAIN."

Roman braced himself for more bones, but wasn't ready for the absolute wave of them that came surging up at him out of the ground, throwing him high up into the air. Upon his descent, he took one projectile to the face and another to the groin. Then he landed back on the street, impacting hard enough that the Cudgel was jolted out of his hand and went skimming across the tar.

By then, several officers of the Knightdock Police Department had responded to the calls phoned in by the witnesses. As soon as Roman hit the ground and his weapon left his hand, he felt a pair of human hands roughly jerk his arms up behind his back and cuff them. "We've been looking forward to dragging YOU in for a long time," the officer announced.

"Is that seriously him?" another officer asked.

"Yeah," the first confirmed. "It's THAT guy."

"Are you at least going to let me keep my hat?" Roman groaned.

"Since you asked," the first officer informed him, "No."

"I BELIEVE HE HAS STOLEN SEVERAL ITEMS AND IS KEEPING THEM IN HIS POCKETS!" Papyrus pointed out.

As the first officer went through Roman's jacket, digging out all the candy, Roman spat, "WATCH the hands, will you?"

The second officer approached Papyrus. "We have you to thank for stopping him when you did," he announced. "Who knows how many more people would have gotten hurt if you hadn't?"

"ALL IN A DAY'S WORK FOR THE GREAT PAPYRUS!" Papyrus boasted. "THOUGH…I DO WONDER IF HE COULD HAVE DONE BETTER IF WE GAVE HIM A CHANCE."

"I'm afraid it doesn't work like that," the officer sighed. "Sometimes, a rotten egg is just a rotten egg. Don't beat yourself up over beating him up."

"WE LOVE THE GREAT PAPYRUS!" a woman – the cousin of the local pharmacist, who'd been shot in the leg by Roman – cried out.

The next thing Roman knew, he was being forcibly stuffed in the back seat of a police car while the crowd changed "PA-PY-RUS! PA-PY-RUS!"

A small boy nervously approached Papyrus with a notepad. "Um…Mr. Great Papyrus? Can I have your autograph?"

"MOST CERTAINLY!" Papyrus knelt to take pad and pen with enthusiasm. "WHO SHALL I MAKE IT OUT TO?"

"My name is Eddie!"

"TO EDDIE: ALWAYS BELIEVE IN YOURSELF! SIGNED, THE GREAT PAPYRUS!"

"I can't believe this," Roman muttered as the car door slammed and the vehicle took off.

Undyne flicked her wrist, and several darts made out of the same energy as her spear appeared in the air around Neo. Neo sheathed her blade, unfurling the parasol. She knew what was coming, and she was ready. If she couldn't dodge, she could at least defend. The darts flew at her like a swarm of bees, and round and round the parasol twirled, shielding against every single one.

"NGAAAH!" Undyne yelled in frustration, swinging her spear back across Neo; Neo ducked under it, letting it pass harmlessly over her head without even splitting a hair. "So you think you're tough, do you? Well, let's see how tough – "

Neo felt a twinge in her aura. Whatever Undyne had done to her earlier, it had worn off. She didn't risk going too much further in this fight when she could just take what she wanted and leave. Neo dealt Undyne a swift kick to the stomach, grabbed the base of the ice cream cone, and turned to run.

"YOU'RE NOT GETTING AWAY WITH THAT!" Undyne launched her magical spear as she gave chase; it landed in the sand harmlessly an inch away from Neo. It had been meant to frighten, not to harm. As Neo froze in her tracks, then fell completely over onto the beach while still holding the ice cream cone aloft, Undyne smirked toothily; it seemed to have done its exact job. She caught up to Neo, crouching by her, and seized her shoulders –

Only to have her hands sink into wet sand. The real Neo happily skipped away from the beach, ice cream in hand.

"UNDYNE!" A short reptilian woman clad in beachwear rushed to the side of the frustrated warrior. "Are y-you okay? I saw you w-w-were fighting s-someone when I g-g-got here, and – "

"Am I okay?" Undyne interrupted Alphys. "THAT LITTLE BRAT TOOK YOUR ICE CREAM!" She stood up, looking at Alphys, then glancing back in the direction of the stand where she'd bought the cone. "That does it."

"Wh-what does what?" Alphys asked nervously.

"If I can't bring you ice cream," Undyne decided, hoisting Alphys up into the air, "I'll bring you TO ice cream!" Laughing, she carried Alphys back to the stand to retrieve another cone; Alphys blushed deeply as her heart raced.

Neo decided to enjoy her ice cream by licking a path across all twenty scoops in succession, filling her mouth with flavor. She was then made aware of the police car passing on the road in front of her: the police car where the passenger in the back seat was clearly a redhead wearing a white jacket.

Neo nearly dropped the ice cream cone. That's not good, she thought to herself.


	14. Mirror Mirror

A/N: General update – the AU timeline for this fic is post-Kingdom Hearts: Dream Drop Distance, post-RWBY volume 3, post-Undertale pacifist run. More to come as other fandoms get involved.

14\. Mirror Mirror

Once again, Mozernath, Wuya, Mim, and Aghoul found themselves on the outskirts of town in Radiant Garden. "All right," Wuya sighed, "let's hear your brilliant plan of how you're going to get us through this town without us being recognized."

"Well, let me start by asking Mim a question," Mozenrath supplied. "Out of the four people we almost killed in the castle's computer room, which of us is most like which of them?"

"Hmmmmm…" Mim thought it over. "Well, Wuya is the sensible one, like Leon."

"And Leon was the tall and dashing brunette, or the gruff blond?" Mozenrath asked.

"Brunette," Mim responded. "Though I think our definition of 'dashing' is different."

Mozenrath cast his hand out toward Wuya, and Wuya took on a glamour of Leon's appearance. She flinched, turning a 360 and taking a good look at herself. "Impressive," she remarked, and it was in Leon's voice.

"Next," Mozenrath commanded Mim.

"Well, I always thought Yuffie – that one's the ninja - was a little bit like me!" Mim contributed eagerly. As soon as she finished the sentence, she was gifted with the glamour of Yuffie's appearance. "Hmmm…then there's Cid. I suppose Aghoul shares his rugged manliness."

"That's another term where we have starkly different definitions," Mozenrath sighed as he cast a glamour of Cid Highwind over Aghoul. "And I suppose that leaves…" In a flash, he took on the appearance of Aerith Gainsborough. "Perfect. Now, 'Yuffie,' if you would lead the way to where Cid keeps his gummi ships locked up…"

"Right this way!" Mim bounded ahead, and the others followed.

As they entered the main square of Radiant Garden, their disguises worked exactly as Mozenrath had expected. A brunette woman in black standing in line for the local accessory shop believed she recognized her four friends and turned to wave at them; the four glamoured mages waved back so as to keep up appearances. "Hey, everyone!" Tifa Lockhart greeted. "Great day, isn't it?"

"No," Mim huffed. "The sun's out. It's NEVER a great day when the SUN is out!" After receiving an elbow to the side from Mozenrath, she changed her tune: "Oh, you know I'm just kidding! Lovely weather, lovely day!"

"O…kay…" Tifa found the response a little odd, but shrugged it off.

Even, in the meantime, had decided to take up Axel's offer and scour the town for clues as to Maleficent's dealings after all. At least it was something to do, and it was something he could do alone with minimal interruption. When he first lay eyes on what appeared to be Leon, Yuffie, Aerith, and Cid, he wondered how they'd gotten into the town square so quickly from the castle. Then the Darkness radiating from all four of them hit him like a tidal wave. He'd always had a sense for the Darkness a soul carried around with it; he'd been able to tell just by looking at the boy Ventus that there wasn't a scrap of it in his heart. And he knew quite well that Leon, Yuffie, Aerith, and Cid had never had this much Darkness within them before and could not possibly have accumulated it over the past half hour. There was only one explanation for this phenomenon: it wasn't the real Leon, Yuffie, Aerith, or Cid. It was four very Dark souls using a very clever glamour.

Perhaps this was the clue Even had been looking for. After all, Maleficent was famed for her Dark magic. Keeping a safe distance, he decided to trail the quartet of frauds and see where they led him.

...

Through a sequence of intricate pantomime, Neo had been able to relate to Snatcher, the Huntsman, and Yzma the tragic circumstance that had befallen Roman Torchwick.

"You're meaning to tell me," Snatcher said in shock, "that after his perfect track record, Torchwick's gone and got himself arrested?"

Neo nodded.

"Then we've got to get him back straightaway," Snatcher stated worriedly. "Whatever holding cell they've got him in, we've got to take it by storm and – "

"We can't do that," the Huntsman interrupted. "He isn't worth blowing our cover."

Snatcher disagreed to a point, but he also knew the importance of keeping a low profile. "Then we'll have to get him back some other way," he decided. "Perhaps the station will be less guarded by night. Miss Neopolitan, could you cause a diversion that would leave Torchwick unattended?"

Neo nodded fervently.

"And the electronic surveillance?" Snatcher continued.

Neo gave him a thumbs-up.

"And what do you plan to do then?" the Huntsman asked.

"Break into the station's holding cell without being observed, of course," Snatcher replied. "…Somehow."

The Huntsman sighed. "Take this," he offered, handing over the huntstaff. "It may or may not be enough to break through the police station's walls."

"But what about the newspapers?" Yzma reminded the others. "Roman was supposed to bring back our newspapers!"

"We shall have to secure them by alternate means," the Huntsman told her.

"Hmmmm…" Yzma thought it over. "A-HA! I've got it!"

"Given your track record, I doubt you have," the Huntsman replied.

"Humor me," Yzma commanded dryly.

As she expounded her plan, Snatcher, Neo, and the Huntsman had to admit that while it was indeed a ridiculous scheme, it was of the "so ridiculous, it just might work" variety. Thus they agreed to help her put together a new gown before nightfall: one of a black pinstripe pattern on white, with the occasional patch of gray.

...

While Cid conducted Restoration Committee work out of Merlin's house and the castle, he chose an entirely different locale to do gummi business. He needed a lot more space for that, and so he had purchased a large garage on the edge of town to accommodate the career that supported him the most fiscally. It was this garage that Mim led Mozenrath, Aghoul, and Wuya to.

"Don't go in just yet," Mozenrath warned. "If one of 'us' is already in there, we could run into some problems."

Mim, spying a window, skipped over to peer into the garage and see if Mozenrath's concern was founded. The only person inside was Cid himself, going to work on the engine of a small ship. Mim crept back to the group; "It's only Cid."

"You could just change my glamour to someone else," Aghoul volunteered. "After all, I never did quite think Cid captured my rugged manliness the way Mim thinks he does."

Mozenrath thought about commenting on that, but wisely declined.

"Oh, but I have a much more fun idea!" Mim argued. "I know of a couple transformations that would get him out of the way so we could go in and do whatever we wanted, with no one to stop us!"

"Let's hear it out," Mozenrath told her.

He agreed to give her plan one chance.

For Cid, business was steadily growing. Knowledge of other worlds was becoming more commonplace by the day; the multiverse had come a long way from when everyone had believed there was only one world (their own) or two (their own and a realm more divine). While it pleased Cid to have more customers to come along with this knowledge, it also piled up a lot more work at his door, and he often found himself pulling double time between the garage and Committee work. It was exhausting and yet rewarding.

This time, Cid had been offered the chance to work on a custom model, built from the ground up. The engine was the finishing touch. It always felt good to put that last piece in place on a new vehicle, and Cid hoped his customer would be satisfied with the results. He reached down to pick up a Warp-Gummi, ready to embed it in said engine.

Before his fingers could even brush it, a clucking pink squirrel raced across the garage floor, breezing past Cid and picking up the gummi piece in her mouth.

"WHAT THE – " Cid did a double take. Once he'd gotten his bearings, he took off running after the squirrel. "GET BACK HERE WITH THAT!"

He could have sworn the squirrel laughed at him. It was most unfortunate for Cid that he didn't think back to the battle of the computer terminal room, where he'd seen a certain witch shapeshift into an array of animals this exact color in order to attack. He simply thought this an ordinary squirrel that was out to get his goat. Round and round the garage he chased Mad Madam Mim until she decided to shoot straight out the door, Warp-G in mouth, bolting down the street at top speed.

"GOD DAMMIT, YOU LITTLE SHIT!" Cid bellowed as he charged after her. "YOU BRING THAT FUCKIN' THING BACK RIGHT THE FUCK NOW OR I'LL TURN YOU INTO A FUCKIN' SCARF!"

Mozenrath, Aghoul, and Wuya hustled around the corner to stay out of sight, but they needn't have worried; Cid blew right past them without looking at anything but the squirrel that had his Warp-G. One block down, Even was making a greater effort to keep himself concealed, but was still relieved when Cid didn't even glance in his general direction.

Once he was sure the garage was vacated, Mozenrath waved his two companions on. "Let's go."

Mim led Cid all the way through town, ducking and weaving among the feet of the shoppers in the main square. Cid shoved people roughly aside as he barged after the squirrel, spouting such a string of curses that the ears of all nearby children were covered. Twice or thrice, he thought he'd lost sight of the squirrel, only to see the flicker of a purple tail through the thick of the crowd, reigniting the chase. He barreled through the square, down a side street, and eventually into the waterway, plunging down into the depths belowground. There, the squirrel was harder to see in the shadows, but Cid followed the sound of that chuckling cluck-cluck-cluck.

But soon that sound was only echoes. Cid knew what corner the squirrel had turned, and followed her right around it. He collided with a great and springy net that had been strung across the tunnel, cursing out whoever had put it there. He tried to peel himself away from the net, only to find that it was sticky with some sort of glue, and he was quite attached to it. It was almost like it wasn't a net of rope at all, but…

A jolt of realization and fear surged through Cid's heart. He stopped struggling a moment, looking through the net – the web – at the tunnel beyond. Despite the lack of illumination, he still caught the sight of something moving. Something large. Something with a bulbous body and eight legs.

Mim hoped he had seen her while she was still in the spidery shape she'd used to spin the web up. It would give him something to worry about while he was trapped down there. She briefly considered going back to bite his head off while she still had the jaws for it, but had the feeling Mozenrath wouldn't be pleased with that after all the trouble they'd gone to for subterfuge. She simply transformed back into a human and teleported into the garage.

...

The Magic Mirror hung ominously on the wall of the chamber of Villain's Vale, and Grimhilde gazed into its dark, glassy depths, thinking of how she wanted to phrase her first scry. It was a pity that the Mirror's gaze could only encompass one world at a time; otherwise, she could just find Mozenrath and be done with it.

"Is that what you're using to find that little brat?" Cruella asked.

Grimhilde found herself questioning for the fortieth time why that woman's presence was necessary. "It is."

"And you're certain it works?"

"At one time, I used it to tell me who the fairest in the land was each and every day," Grimhilde stated coldly. "And it was never wrong. Not even once."

"Why, then, it must have said you each and every time!" Cruella replied.

"Is that your form of flattery?" Grimhilde raised a brow.

"Oh, come now," Cruella cajoled, "if we're working together, we may as well have a good time of it, shouldn't we?"

"As a matter of fact," Grimhilde stated, eager to change the subject, "it did not name me as fairest each day. It did so until my stepdaughter Snow White came of age, at which time it named her."

"Well, I hope you had her killed," Cruella remarked offhandedly.

"I attempted to," Grimhilde informed Cruella coldly. "Multiple times. First, there was that fool huntsman I ordered to bring me her heart – "

"Oh, darling, never trust hired hands," Cruella sighed. "If you want something done right – "

"You must do it yourself," Grimhilde concluded. "I did just that after Humbert failed. I presented the girl with a poison that would put her into a state between sleep and death evermore. The only antidote was True Love's Kiss."

This incited a throaty laugh from Cruella: "Oh, HAHAHAHAHAHA! True love! Darling, there's no such thing!"

"That was the fallacy that led me to believe the poison would work," Grimhilde admitted.

"Oh, dear," Cruella commented. "So she was actually cured of it, then? With True Love?" The woman seemed absolutely disgusted.

"I would rather not speak of it," Grimhilde huffed.

"Very well, then," Cruella resolved. "Do your thing with the mirror."

Grimhilde turned back to the glass, casting her arms out before it. "Slave in the Magic Mirror," she commanded, "come from the farthest space. Through wind and Darkness, I summon thee! Speak! Let me see thy face!"

Flames filled the glass from the inside, casting a burning orange glow over the room. When they settled, a face shaped like a green mask was situated in the center of the Mirror, its empty eyes focused on Grimhilde. "What wouldst thou know, my queen?" it asked in a deep baritone, cloudy smoke obscuring it from view only to subside and reveal it again.

"Magic Mirror in this keep," Grimhilde said evenly, "'round Radiant Garden, thine eyes must sweep. If in this Garden Mozenrath be, then reveal his place to me."

"In this world, the sorcerer appears," the Mirror responded, equally evenly. "If it is him you seek, look no further than here."

The face in the Mirror dissipated, and the exterior of Cid's garage filled the glass. The scene changed, as though the Mirror was showing the point of view of someone walking into the garage. It stopped just inside, where Mozenrath, Aghoul, Wuya, and Mim were interrogating a fifth person.

"So he has already returned," Grimhilde observed. "He must be a true imbecile."

"How long ago did we even arrive at this castle?" Cruella agreed. "And already, we've found him! This is going to be easier than we thought!"

Grimhilde cast a Corridor of Darkness in the center of the room. "After you," she told Cruella.

"Oh, no, darling!" Cruella waved both hands at the Corridor. "Go on your own. I'll catch up soon enough. I've got to get a few things together first."

"As you wish," Grimhilde stated with a nod.

"Just don't destroy them too completely," Cruella implored. "Leave some for me to have fun with, too!"

"I will see what I can manage," Grimhilde told Cruella before stalking into the Corridor and closing it.

...

"I think this ship will do nicely," Mozenrath stated, looking over the gummi craft Cid had been working with. "Now, if Mim would just hurry up and get back here to do the honors…"

"Don't our bags work on this?" Aghoul produced his enchanted purse, presenting it to the ship only to be met with no effect.

"Not on anything bigger than your average piece of furniture," Mozenrath explained. "Unless, of course, you're – "

Mim zapped back into the center of the garage, now back in the form of Yuffie. "What did I miss?" she asked.

"Just us waiting for you to finish up with that Cid fellow," Aghoul informed her. "Tell me you did something gruesome to him."

"Oh, he'll remember what I did to him for quite a while in his nightmares!" Mim laughed.

"Now," Mozenrath broke in, trying not to get frustrated at the fact that Mim and Aghoul were only delaying his plan, "Mim, we'll need you to – "

"Shhh!" Wuya hissed, turning to look back over the room.

"What is it?" Mozenrath sighed.

"I heard something," Wuya explained. "Someone else is in this room."

Mozenrath cast his gaze around the garage. He saw nothing. Wuya then pointed in the direction of the slight sound she'd heard: a large tool cabinet resting against the wall. Mozenrath strode toward it, levitating it aside easily to reveal the spy who'd been holding his breath, frozen, behind it. "Don't you have somewhere to be?" he asked.

Even cursed out his racing heart yet again. But he found it within himself to reply: "You tell me, Squall. Where do I have to be?"

"Do I look like I know or care?" Mozenrath responded.

"Squall Leonhart would," Even informed him. "After all, we work in rather close quarters. And furthermore, he refuses to be addressed as 'Squall.' And here I was thinking your glamour was clever. Then again, I'm speaking to a group who thinks it's smart to steal a gummi ship without a Warp-G installed. The engine hatch is wide open, and anyone can see – "

"Anyone can see you talk too much," Mozenrath growled. "Well, I guess there's no point in hiding it anymore." With a flick of the wrist, he dispelled the four glamours, laying his, Wuya's, Mim's, and Aghoul's true appearances bare.

"As I thought," Even remarked proudly.

Mozenrath then surrounded Even with an aura of blue, lifting him up into the air and slamming him up against the wall with magic. "Did you think THIS far ahead?" the sorcerer taunted.

"Put me down THIS INSTANT!" Even cried, fear creeping into his tone.

"Do we have to keep this one alive?" Mim asked. "He already knows too much!"

"True, very true," Mozenrath mused. "I think we can get away with one casualty."

"Please…don't!" Even begged. "I'll do anything! I can tell you all of the castle's weak points!"

Aghoul drew back his arm, a skull bomb nestled in it. "Ready, aim…"

Mozenrath put up his left hand in a "stop" gesture. "Not just yet," he warned Aghoul. "I want to know exactly what doing 'anything' includes. This one might be useful. You said you know the castle's weak points?"

"Down to every waterway and pipe!" Even gushed in desperation.

"And you're willing to just give this information away to us because…?" Mozenrath pressed.

"Because I care far less about any of THEM than I do not being killed!" Even snapped.

"Even though they're your friends?" Mozenrath continued. "The cohorts you work in close quarters with?"

"FRIENDS?" Even spat. "They are a parade of nuisances that plagues me day in and day out!"

He found himself gently lowered back to the floor. "You may just have bought your own survival," Mozenrath informed him. "Now, tell me more about – "

Mozenrath didn't get the chance to finish the question, nor did Even get the chance to answer. For Grimhilde's Corridor had opened up in the center of the garage, and the evil queen strode through.

"And who have we here?" she asked mockingly.

...

The young man who worked the front desk of the office of the Knightdock Account – the town's local newspaper – was surprised to see the pair that entered via the front door more because of what they were wearing than anything else. He half wondered if they'd gotten lost looking for some sort of black tie dinner. The man, who was tall and bald with a mysterious red mark on his face, was clad in a suit and tie of ebony. The woman accompanying him, who was much more elderly and several shades purple, was clothed in a magnificently voluminous gown of white with black pinstripes and the occasional patch of gray; a tall black feathered headdress set it off.

"Uh…can I help you?" the receptionist asked.

"That you can," the Huntsman told him. He had been none too happy about showing his face to the general public, but Yzma had finally talked him into leaving the dragon helmet behind. He needed to put on a less conspicuous appearance for the public, especially when Yzma's gown, which was necessary to their scheme, was making such a statement on its own. And so he had resorted to his go-to alter ego when he had to conduct business by day in the New York of his world. "We would like access to your archives."

"Well, sure," the receptionist stated. "You can look around all you want, but we charge if you want to take any of our back issues home. I should warn you, though, we're about to close up for the night in a couple hours."

"A couple hours should be enough," the Huntsman stated.

"Just head on back," the receptionist told them. "Third door on the right. The afternoon assistant should already be back there. Hopefully he'll be in the mood to actually help you."

Yzma wondered exactly what that meant.

"We shan't be long," the Huntsman promised.

"Duly noted, Mr…?"

"Hemlock. Hunter Hemlock."

"I hope you find what you're looking for, Mr. Hemlock!"

As Yzma and the Huntsman proceeded down the hall, Yzma hissed, "So THAT'S your true name!"

"It most certainly is not," the Huntsman informed her. "It is merely a convenient alias. My birth name is something I keep well guarded. After all, there is any manner of magical creature that can control you by merely knowing your name."

Finding the correct door, Yzma pushed it open to reveal the Account filing room. Shelves covered the walls, filled with stacks of newspapers. A fair amount of them, however, had been pulled from the shelves and stacked up on the floor in the crude shape of a bed, with several issues rolled up to serve as a pillow. And upon this bed, a very short skeleton, one who would only have been up to Yzma and the Huntsman's waists, was curled up and having a nap.

Yzma and the Huntsman exchanged flabbergasted glances. Then Yzma strode forward, plucked a paper off the shelf, rolled it up tight, and smacked the skeleton good across the skull with it while barking, "WAKE UP!"

The skeleton stirred, slowly propping himself up on one arm. "hey," he greeted casually. "can i help you?"

"Oh, DON'T tell me YOU'RE the assistant," Yzma sighed.

"i'm the assistant, yeah," the skeleton confirmed. "so, uh, you need a paper or something?"

"We would like to browse at our leisure," the Huntsman told the skeleton. "If you would kindly leave us be…"

"And please TELL me those papers you were sleeping on were organized by date," Yzma groaned.

"i dunno," the skeleton said with a shrug as he swung his legs off the bed. "i've slept on more comfortable beds, myself."

Yzma, already feeling a metaphorical grater on her nerves, wondered if strangulation would be effective on somebody who didn't have a throat. "Will you just leave?"

"you know," the skeleton pointed out, "most people actually want me to help them find a newspaper after they wake me up. can't help but wonder why you don't."

"Well, you know what they say about wanting something done right," Yzma snapped.

"i'd ask what exactly it is you want done right," the skeleton continued, on his way out the door, "but something tells me i can still afford not to care."

That left Yzma and the Huntsman in a stunned silence as the diminutive monster departed the room.

"He knows," Yzma stated once she was sure he was out of earshot.

"That isn't possible," the Huntsman told her.

"He knows SOMETHING," Yzma hissed. "Why else would he say all those things?"

"Skeletons are known to speak cryptically for no reason."

"I don't want to make the mistake of underestimating that one!"

"In any case," the Huntsman told Yzma, "he said we could afford not to care. We should take him at his word. Moreover, we should begin the process in order to have enough time to get away with it."

Yzma slammed the door behind both of them as the Huntsman crossed the room to a desk where a dispensable roll of tape was situated. Yzma began plucking papers off the shelf rapidly, making sure each issue she grabbed was different as she unfolded the leafy pages. It was time to put her plan to work.

...

"I could ask you the same thing," Mozenrath told Grimhilde.

"I can hardly believe your stupidity," Grimhilde replied. "Not only to return to this world, but so close to Maleficent's stronghold. You've made it all too easy."

"You're with HER, aren't you?" Mim pointed an accusing finger at Grimhilde.

"And you're NOT with Maleficent?" Even asked in shock. This changed things. He still hated Maleficent and her flunkies with every fiber of his being. But he did so miss the Darkness…

"I'm guessing you want to try and bring back some body part or another as a trophy to trade to Maleficent for brownie points," Mozenrath sighed. "Let's just get your humiliating defeat over with."

Grimhilde had expected him to say something along those lines. However, she had spent the better part of her life studying magic in all of its forms. Her knowledge went far beyond potions and poisons. She cast another Corridor into being, and the Magic Mirror floated out of it. Immediately, Mozenrath felt the magnetic pull. He threw a bolt of blue plasma at the glass, only to watch it ricochet off before Mozenrath's body was sucked completely into the glass.

"WHAT did you do?" Wuya snapped.

"You'll find out," Grimhilde told her slyly.

Wuya, Mim, and Aghoul were dragged only a couple inches before the Mirror became encased in a miniature iceberg that jutted up from the garage floor, nullifying the effect. The three mages turned to look in awe at Even.

"WHAT are you waiting for?" he barked. "DO something about her!"

Mim shifted into the shape of the giant spider once more, reaching back to gather a length of silk. Aghoul loaded a skull bomb into each hand. Even called upon something he hadn't touched in quite a while: an immense blue shield that materialized out of thin air to cover the length of half his body. Wuya put out her arms to either side, and ten rock giants burst through the floor of the garage, sights locked on Grimhilde.

"I summon thee, creatures of Darkness!" Grimhilde called out, and ten of the sword-wielding Heartless known as Invisibles materialized from the air, flying forth to hack away at Wuya's rock creatures.

Aghoul launched both skulls, and Grimhilde batted one away with a deflection shields that surrounded her bare left hand. The other, she caught in her right hand. It deactivated with a pathetic "pop" and a plume of smoke. Mim threw a loop of silk the thickness of a rope; it ignited in midair and whooshed up in a rush of flames. Wuya rushed Grimhilde directly, charging up a wealth of green magic in her hands –

The entire wall of the garage burst apart as Cruella de Vil's car crashed through it. The vehicle knocked down and completely ran over a stunned Ayam Aghoul before continuing on a beeline to Wuya. Wuya, literally caught in the headlights, turned to face the car and abandoned her charge to make a leap, handspringing off the hood and sailing over the vehicle.

Aghoul got up and dusted himself off, none the worse for wear. "Well, that was unexpected," he grumbled.

Cruella kept one hand on the wheel, turning the car into a loop of the garage's perimeter, while using the other to extend a diamond-studded semi-automatic pistol out the window, firing rapidly at whoever she could aim for that wasn't Grimhilde. Wuya caught the first five bullets with magic, redirecting them back at Cruella, but the car was going at such a speed that all Wuya did was put five bullet holes in the passenger side door.

"STOP BLOWING HOLES IN MY CAR!" Cruella barked. "BLAST YOU, HOLD STILL!" She shook her gun angrily, banging it against the bottom of the car window before taking another shot, this time at Mim.

Before Mim could take action, a wall of blue intervened between her and the bullets; the projectiles pinged harmlessly against Even's shield. "Why are YOU helping us all of a sudden?" Mim snorted.

"Because you present the potential opportunity of exactly what I've been looking for ever since I regained my heart," Even informed her. "I wouldn't be doing this if you were aligned with THEM. But as it stands…" He pivoted to keep his shield in the line of fire as Cruella's car rotated. "We may yet be beneficial to each other."

"WILL YOU PUT DOWN THAT BLASTED SHIELD!" Cruella yelled over the banging of her gun.

In the meantime, Grimhilde and Wuya had become locked in a battle of magic. When Wuya tried ice, Grimhilde melted it with fire. When Grimhilde tried lightning, Wuya neutralized it with a wall of rock that sprang up between the two. Eventually, both shot streams of raw plasma at each other, locking themselves into a stalemate. As Grimhilde put 90 percent of her focus toward countering Wuya, the remaining 10 percent was put toward observing Cruella's road rage. Finally, she thought, she was seeing the real Cruella. And she rather liked it. The woman was, as the name implied, quite cruel when cut down to the quick. Perhaps this alliance would be tolerable after all.

Aghoul saw his advantage: Grimhilde was distracted by Wuya. He summoned up his scythe, took one step toward the evil queen, and was mowed down a second time by the car.

"If you're on OUR side all of a sudden," Mim huffed, still taking refuge behind Even's ever rotating shield, "why did you trap Mozenrath inside that mirror?"

"Trap him inside?" Even huffed. "I prevented the rest of YOU from being trapped in the same way!"

"Well, how is Mozenrath supposed to get back out here, then?"

"I'm hoping he'll find a way," Even muttered. "That will prove my line of thinking is correct."

...

Mozenrath found himself in a dark, featureless expanse. His first instinct was to spin around and look behind him to see if the glass was still there from the other side so he could leave the way he came. It wasn't. He should have figured.

"Seek no more the world you know and cherish," a booming voice proclaimed from behind him. "My queen has commanded that you perish."

Mozenrath turned back to see the mask of the Mirror looming above him, several times his size, its empty eyes striking a chill into him if only momentarily. He warmed up back to cool: "I've heard of needing time to reflect, but this is getting a little out of hand, don't you think?"

The disembodied face spat out a sphere of pure Darkness at Mozenrath; the sorcerer batted it away easily with a deflection spell. The face then began to spin in a circle around Mozenrath, round and round, until suddenly it was not one mask but six making a loop. All six let loose projectiles of Darkness from their mouths at once, and it was only a quick dodge that protected Mozenrath from colliding with the mass of magic.

Then there were not six, but a hundred masks, lining up in two rows as far as the eye could see, facing inward at Mozenrath. Mozenrath knew what they were about to do, and he took off running down the makeshift corridor; globes of Darkness brushed the hem of his cape behind him as he ran. Without warning, one of the faces turned inward, blocking the end of the pathway, and Mozenrath knew then he was in trouble. The onslaught came from ahead and both sides, and overwhelmed with the negative magic, Mozenrath collapsed, quivering.

The Mirror's face became lone once more, looming over Mozenrath, getting as close as it could to deal the final blow.

Mozenrath's bare left hand seized the Mirror's lower lip. He forced himself up off the ground by sheer will, planting a foot on that lip to launch himself upward. Before the Mirror could make another move, Mozenrath thrust his right hand directly into the black, empty eye. Magic surged.

The Mirror gave a roar of pain, speeding backward so fast that Mozenrath slipped and fell right on his back. The entire area shimmered, and for a moment, the walls of the tiny dimension turned transparent so that Mozenrath could see the crystalline ice that surrounded the Mirror. The area shook; the Mirror was trying to regurgitate Mozenrath, but it was being held back. It didn't take a genius to figure out the problem was the ice.

Mozenrath charged up his gauntlet with an aura of extreme heat.

...

"YOU!" Even barked across the garage. "UNDEAD ONE!"

"I have a name, you know!" Aghoul retorted. "It's OHHHHHH NO YOU DON'T!" He leapt and somersaulted out of the way of Cruella's car, avoiding a third collision.

"Get what it is you came for in the first place!" Even ordered. "The rest of us will follow!"

"Since when do we take orders from YOU?" Mim asked indignantly.

"Since we are running out of options," Even stated.

Cruella had run out of bullets, so she threw the gun into the back seat and focused on using the car as her primary weapon. She turned it directly upon Even and Mim, hoping to simply crush them and be done with it.

The ice holding the Magic Mirror in place shattered completely and noisily; Mozenrath took his place on the battlefield once more. However, it was right in the way of Cruella's oncoming vehicle. It was now Mozenrath caught in the headlights, turning to stare in horror at the car that was headed right toward him.

Mim, in the shape of a rhinoceros, barreled right at the front of the car, intercepting it before it could touch Mozenrath. The impact only slightly shook Mim; it crumpled the front of Cruella's car.

The commotion distracted Grimhilde long enough for her to lose her focus. Wuya's magic overpowered her and threw her up against the wall.

"NOW, NOW, NOW!" Even screamed.

Aghoul made a mad dash for the gummi ship. Wuya and Even followed. Mim needed a moment to separate her horn from the car she'd crashed before she, too, headed for the ship. Mozenrath, flummoxed, stood stock-still until Mim doubled back, transformed into a horse, and knocked Mozenrath hard enough in the side that he knew to scramble onto her back. As soon as Mim had carried Mozenrath through the ship's door, Aghoul slammed it shut.

Even took the control panel right away, powering up the ship and taking it on a direct course out of the garage. He used the fastest route possible: directly through the wall ahead, putting an even larger hole in the side of the building, one that the Invisibles and rock creatures spilled out through to continue their fight in the streets. The ship blasted away, up and out of Radiant Garden's atmosphere.

Once Wuya was out of range, Grimhilde dropped down unharmed onto the ground. Cruella exited her car, slamming the door shut very angrily behind her.

The two women needed to meet eyes only once before they were in complete verbal agreement: "AFTER THEM!"

...

The Knightdock sheriff station contained one very small and uncomfortable holding cell. One wall was made of iron bars, offering a view into the rest of the station. The other three were of concrete, and presumably were very thick. One of them had a rather small window set in its upper quadrant; it could be assumed this was bulletproof glass. The only notable landmark in the room was a small cot that was either a bench or a bed. All in all, it was a less hellish version of the holding cell Hades had used to store Roman. At least both of those had been roomier than the holding cell aboard Ironwood's ship, Roman thought. He really had to stop making a habit of inhabiting cells like this.

They'd offered him a phone call; Roman wasn't stupid enough to call any of his allies over a land line that he knew might very well be monitored, so he declined. In a town this small, they probably didn't have the phones bugged, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Then they'd thrown him in the cell and retreated to the opposite end of the station to talk about transferring him to a place called "New Vulpine." Given the context, Roman figured out it was a neighboring metropolis with a bigger and stricter police department as well as a prison complex that sounded several degrees more unpleasant than this holding cell.

Roman sat down on the cot, leaning his back against the wall. If nothing else, he had some time to think. He assumed that one or another of his allies would be along at any moment to launch a scheme for his freedom. No doubt Neo and Snatcher were either collaborating on it or arguing over who would get to him first. In the meantime, he contemplated why he'd actually decided to go along with any of this in the first place.

It was better than working in the clutch of Salem's iron fist. That was for sure. This was a place Roman really felt like he could be himself. His rationale had always been "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em." He didn't even feel like he had to try to beat Mozenrath to want to join him. And yet it had been revealed to Roman quite early on that nothing was ever that easy. He'd said as much to his rival: the real world was cruel. There was a reason he'd learned to take things for himself: because the real world was never going to give him what he wanted if he waited around for it to do so. Things fell apart by nature. What made this any different?

And, most of all, what made Archibald Snatcher any different? Why had Roman decided to act upon his feelings? There was a very good chance that was all going to go down in flames. But Roman had wanted him for so long that he couldn't stand not bringing it up anymore. He tried to think of when exactly it was that he had fallen. He'd thought it was out on karaoke night, when Snatcher had molded him into Fiammetta and then sung with a siren's tone, but that was really only when Roman had figured out he'd felt something about him for a while. So now they were together, and all because Roman had spoken up. And Roman was hanging onto the hope that the cruelties of fate weren't going to throw that decision back into his face repackaged as a horrible, horrible mistake.

At about that point, Roman figured he had too much time on his hands and was just getting into a boringly depressing place. Looking out into the sheriff station, he saw only one young officer. "Hey, you," Roman snapped at him.

There was no response.

"What's 'New Vulpine'?" Roman asked.

"The precinct that's going to put you where you belong," the officer responded without looking up from his desk.

"So that's the big city next to here, right?"

"How don't you know this?" The officer was confused. "You show up out of nowhere, nobody can figure out where your base is, and you don't know the name of one of the biggest cities in the country."

"I'm just a quirky ball of enigma," Roman replied with a smirk.

The officer shot him a disparaging glance before turning back to his work.

Roman kicked at the bars of the iron wall experimentally, rattling the door a bit. He then stood up on the cot to rap on the glass of the window with his fist.

"That's bulletproof," the officer stated, as though it were a reflex.

"Duly noted." Roman sat back down on the cot and waited. Somebody should be coming along any time now. Unless, of course, this was where he was proven wrong. Maybe no one would come at all, and all he would have to rely on was himself. Not the preferred outcome, but one he could live with.

As night fell, Neo crept toward the back of the sheriff station. Avoiding the security cameras was easy enough; to them, she became invisible. The harder part was cutting all of the feeds while still concealed. Once the last camera was disabled, she knew she had to act fast; they'd notice soon that the feeds were dead. First, she hopped up to see if she could get a look through the tiny window. It took her a couple jumps to reach the right height, but she was able to visually confirm that Roman's cell was there on the other side, and he was lying down on the cot in it, sleeping. Neo turned to give a quick thumbs-up across the yard to the person waiting in the shadows before darting around front to the main door of the station.

Snatcher, having registered Neo's signal, began to count to twenty.

Now completely visible, taking on the appearance of a raven-haired Goth, Neo strode into the front door of the police station. The officer, now the only one on duty, looked up at her and asked, "Can I help you?"

Neo produced a can of pink spray paint from a pocket, turning to one of the walls and thinking that it was a pity Roman was asleep, because he sure would enjoy this show. She shook up the can thoroughly, then sprayed a very rude message on the wall, telling the police what they could go do to themselves.

"HEY!" The officer stood bolt upright. "Stop that right now!"

Neo turned to him and sprayed the can twice, getting a dusting of powder pink over his uniform. She then winked and turned to run out the door.

"You! STOP!" The officer bolted after her; she made sure to stay just enough in sight that he could chase her for a while. Now the station was completely unguarded, and the security tapes were recording nothing.

"Eighteen, nineteen…twenty." Snatcher proceeded into the yard with the huntstaff in hand. Neo had confirmed this was the spot. He thought about shooting directly at the wall, but there was the risk of damaging the person on the other end. The window seemed high up enough off the ground that aiming for it would offer the best chance of not blowing up Roman himself, and besides, it was probably the wall's weak point. Snatcher pointed the huntstaff at it; he had to pound on the weapon a couple times with his fist before it activated, its kick causing him to reel backward. A green ray of energy collided with the window in the wall with a BOOM. The dogs of several nearby residences began barking, and Snatcher nervously pressed against the wall, hoping he hadn't drawn too much attention to himself with the noise.

Roman was woken instantly. He looked around to see the pane of glass that had been in the window neatly dislodged and lying in pieces on the floor; it had only cracked when it hit the cement. While the huntstaff had reduced some of the wall's thickness from the outside, it still hadn't broken through anything but the window. Scrambling up to stand on the cot, Roman peered through the window, poking his head through to confirm what he suspected had happened. "So you finally noticed I was gone," he teased as soon as he spotted Snatcher.

"Don't be daft," Snatcher hissed. "We've been waiting for the opportune moment for this all day. And keep your voice down!"

"Were you trying to wake up the whole neighborhood?"

"Absolutely not, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't assist me in doing exactly that."

"Okay, fine," Roman responded in a more whispery tone. "Better?"

"Much," Snatcher told him. "Now stand back. I'm going to have to blast the wall again."

"I thought you weren't trying to wake up the whole neighborhood."

"I'm also trying to get you out of that cell!"

"You already did," Roman pointed out, gesturing to the rectangular hole in the wall where there had once been a bulletproof window.

Snatcher stepped back, sizing up the aperture. "You'll never fit through there," he said bluntly.

"Oh, thanks," Roman groand sarcastically. "Yes, I will, and you are NOT setting off another explosion. I'm still not sure how no one came after us because of that first one!"

"Because the officer on duty is trying to catch a sadistic little vandal," Snatcher informed Roman. "One wearing a face that will never be seen in this town again after tonight."

"Nice!" Roman hoisted himself up into the window frame, which was admittedly a rather tight fit.

Snatcher extended a hand to him; "Will you be needing – "

Roman held up his own hand; "I got this." As he crawled and squirmed his way through, he brought up, "By the way, they were – ngh – going to turn me over to the police department of the city next door." He paused a moment to hold his breath and draw in his stomach. "And that got me thinking – "

His train of thought was interrupted when he realized he'd gotten himself into a point where he could go no further forward. Right around his hips, the frame where the window had been was holding him firmly in place. Bracing his hands against the wall, he gave a couple experimental tugs, only to get nowhere at all; he was quite stuck.

With a sigh, he told Snatcher, "Don't you say a word."

...

Yzma and the Huntsman taped as many newspaper pages as they could right over the former's gown, utilizing any and every bit of space. While the Huntsman turned his gaze to the wall, Yzma stuffed several pages under her skirt. So long as they turned the color photos down, nothing looked to be amiss. The man at the front desk had seen Yzma walk in wearing black pinstripes on white with some gray patches, and he was going to see her exiting wearing the exact same thing; the lines of text of the newspapers and the black-and-white photographs would fill in for the stripes and patches.

When Yzma had a few weeks' worth of papers attached to her person, she declared, "We are ready to leave."

As the Huntsman set the roll of tape back down on the far table, the receptionist poked his head in through the door; "We're closing up now. Did you find what you were looking for?"

"Oh, most certainly!" Yzma said sweetly. "Thank you for all your kind assistance. Though that office assistant of yours could use a shot of caffeine and a stern talking-to."

"Yeah," the receptionist admitted, "Sans is a bit of a lazybones, if you'll pardon the expression. But he's a good guy, so what can you do?"

"Fire him," Yzma stated coldly. "You can fire him. It isn't difficult."

"Well, have a good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Hemlock!" the receptionist said jovially.

"We're not married," the Huntsman replied sternly.

"Oh, sorry!" the receptionist gushed. "Wow. Should NOT have assumed that. Have a good evening, Mr. Hemlock and Ms…?"

Yzma panicked. "…Amzy."

The Huntsman very nearly cracked a smile.

"Ms. Amzy," the receptionist concluded.

As Yzma and the Huntsman hustled out of the room, the receptionist couldn't help but wonder why it sounded like they were rustling like paper when they walked. But, looking back at them, he couldn't pick out a difference between how they'd looked earlier and right then. So he shrugged it off.

"Ms. Amzy," the Huntsman reiterated once the pair was far outside the office premises.

"I panicked!" Yzma hissed. "It won't happen again!"

...

"Are you CERTAIN you don't require my assistance?" Snatcher asked smugly.

"Just…give me a minute," Roman grunted.

"All right, then." Snatcher leaned against the wall beside Roman, putting one foot up against it as he watched.

Roman struggled for several minutes, but no matter how he pushed and wriggled, he couldn't seem to dislodge himself from the wall. And despite his initial rush of internal "I told you so," Snatcher had to admit to himself that watching Roman be in distress was becoming uncomfortable.

"All right," Roman admitted. "You were right, I was wrong, and now I'm stuck in the wall. Now can you please just help me?"

"Since you've asked so kindly." Snatcher walked back around to face Roman, wrapping his arms up around Roman's underarms. Roman instinctively reached out to grip Snatcher's shoulders tightly, and Snatcher gently tugged at Roman's body to see if he could dislodge him.

"For whatever it's worth," Snatcher grunted, "this is hardly new to me. As my former associate Mr. Trout was quite a large man, I spent a fair amount of time extricating him from doorways."

"Great," Roman huffed. "So now I'm a throwback to the days of the dumb henchmen."

"That isn't what I meant, and you know it, Torchwick."

"Anyway," Roman went on, scraping the other side of the wall with his toes in hopes of finding a foothold to push against, "as I was saying, there's this whole big city one over from here. New Vulpine. They were going to turn me over to them, and I got to thinking. So you're going to be spreading the word as Frou Frou that monsters are the real enemy here, right?"

"Quite right."

"Well, the people in THIS town are used to living with monsters, okay? So you've got that working against you. Those monsters have all their little friends working with them to stick up for them when you try and bring 'em down. And I KNOW you can pull harder than that."

"Well, the fact is that quite UNlike with my former idiot stooges," Snatcher explained, "I don't want to hurt you."

"And I don't want to be a permanent wall decoration, so screw it."

"Well, all right, then." Snatcher braced one foot against the wall, tightened his grip on Roman, and heaved.

There was a brief moment when Roman absolutely regretted talking Snatcher into being less gentle; the last squeeze through the aperture was very painful, and Roman feared for a moment that he actually was going to break something in his body on the way out, but then, in a fell swoop, the rest of his body was forced through and he found himself on the other side of the wall completely. The momentum and shift of weight caused Snatcher to topple over backward, Roman falling on top of him, each still with a tight grip on the other. "Y'know," Roman remarked, his green eyes sparkling as he met Snatcher's, "this is not that uncomfortable of a position to be in."

"And we can emulate it later, when we're not on the run," Snatcher informed him.

Roman stood up and dusted himself off, sure he had a bruise or more on his waistline, and then offered Snatcher a hand to get him to a standing position. "To continue," Roman went on when both were upright and moving, taking a roundabout course back to Mt. Ebott, "if you're planning on pulling the Frou Frou act here, well, yeah, you'll probably get far. But, and I'm speaking from experience here, the big city is full of a lot more hate and insanity. Now, if you went over THERE to tell them how bad things were HERE – "

"TORCHWICK, YOU'RE BRILLIANT!" Snatcher halted a moment to grab Roman by the forearms and stare him in the face, an expression of wild joy crossing his own.

"I know," Roman replied slyly.

After the briefest of kisses, Snatcher went back on course for base, tugging Roman along behind him. "Well, then, let's get a move on!"

Across town, Neo had ditched the officer and doubled back to beat him to the station. She had a few things she needed to collect from the evidence locker.

...

The gummi ship careened through interspace, narrowly avoiding the great chunks of space debris that threatened to crunch it by collision at high speed. Despite his near misses, Even was a steady hand of a pilot.

"Take us back to our base," Mozenrath ordered. "The coordinates are – "

"We aren't going back to your base," Even interrupted.

"And you have the right to tell me this because…?" Mozenrath raised an eyebrow.

"Look out back of the ship," Even said calmly, "and tell me what you see."

Mim and Aghoul did just that. "There's another ship!" Aghoul cried.

"That will be the two women we just escaped," Even informed the group. "To return you home would be to lead them right to your base of operations. We need to lose them first."

"Isn't there some function on this ship that will warp us somewhere else without them seeing where we go?" Mozenrath asked.

"You've just described the exact function of a Warp-Gummi," Even grunted. "Which, as I have stated, this ship does not have."

Behind the fleeing ship, Cruella piloted a second stolen craft, Grimhilde at her side. "We've got them in our sights now!" Cruella laughed.

"They shall be in our clutches in but a moment," Grimhilde promised.

Cruella reached for the onboard weapons, but Grimhilde gently wrapped her fingers around Cruella's wrist to stay her hand. "You will not need those," she said slyly. "We have something much more powerful on our side."

A fleet of small, spiky crafts zoomed in out of the periphery of either side of the front window, honing in on Mozenrath's ship. "Those are the Heartless, aren't they?" Cruella asked.

"They will hopefully finish the job for us," Grimhilde informed Cruella. "However, I have not forgotten your words of wisdom. Depending on hirelings has been the undoing of both of us in the past, and so we must trail the ship until the job is done. Keep us close."

"But of course, darling!"

The ship lurched as Cruella zoomed between two immense rocks just before they crashed into each other; she followed Mozenrath's ship up around tight corners and through passages that required her to turn her craft sideways to follow. Grimhilde was unceremoniously thrown to the ground, gripping onto the dashboard for dear life. "Can you pilot more carefully?" she snapped.

"Oh, of course I can," Cruella retorted, "if you want to lose them completely."

"Carry on," Grimhilde grumbled.

The Heartless crafts surrounded Mozenrath's ship, slamming hard into one side of it and sending it into a spin that Even barely pulled out of in time to avoid making a collision with a stone wall. "They've set the Heartless loose on us," Even hissed.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Wuya replied.

"One of you, man the onboard guns!" Even commanded.

Mozenrath, Mim, Aghoul, and Wuya exchanged confused looks.

"You DO know how to operate gummi weaponry, do you not?" Even groaned and rolled his eyes. "The far left panel on the dashboard. It operates on a turret system. Oh, who am I kidding? I'll have to make this simple: it rotates when you turn the levers."

"Ooh, sounds like fun!" Mim immediately grasped a lever and hammered on the bright red buttons of the weaponry panel; several Heartless ships went down in flames. "It IS fun!" Mim crowed before cackling madly, continuing to blast ship after ship.

"It won't be enough," Even grunted. "We've got to take evasive action. Hopefully, this will get rid of our followers as well."

"And by 'evasive action,'" Mozenrath questioned, "you mean…?"

"I mean hold on to something," Even grumbled.

He took the ship down and around a massive chunk of stone, through several stone rings, and weaving around and around a rockier patch of debris. When a clear pathway opened up, he opted for a rougher one. Many of the Heartless ships smashed themselves on the rocks.

Cruella kept close, maneuvering through near miss after near miss. Grimhilde had thought utilizing the onboard seats, let alone the belts, was beneath her, but as it stood, she chose no longer to stand, instead buckling herself tightly into the nearest seat just as Cruella followed Even round a loop-de-loop that took the ship upside-down completely.

"They are persistent," Even observed through gritted teeth. "We shall have to make a landing on a world and attempt to shake them off on land. Luckily, we're near to a world that is off most maps. Landing there will give us quite the advantage. You, with the purple hair! Remain stationed at the guns! Do not abandon them until I give the word!"

"Why would I want to abandon them?" Mim asked. "I want to set some up on our base!"

"We're not going to draw ATTENTION to ourselves that way," Mozenrath hissed. He turned his attention to Even: "You're being strangely helpful."

"In the hopes that perhaps, you will see fit to help me," Even replied.

"And how are you expecting us to do that?" Mozenrath asked.

"I shall disclose the details later," Even told him. "As for now, rest assured: you are already doing it."

As he tore the gummi craft out of the rocky patch and onto a direct course for the world of his choice, Even warned, "The inhabitants of this world are quite strange. None of them are remotely human. Consider yourself forewarned."

...

Roman and Snatcher arrived in Judgment Hall to see the Huntsman and Yzma removing newspapers fro Yzma's gown and spreading them out all over the floor, careful to avoid the design that contained their conquest spell. "I'm starting to know how Mozenrath feels when he surrounds himself with notes in the throne room," Yzma groaned. "I suppose now, we have to READ all of these."

"With five sets of eyes, it should take little time," the Huntsman reassured her.

"So, how'd it go?" Roman asked.

"Nobody suspected a thing!" Yzma gloated. "That will be the last time you mock one of my brilliant ideas!"

"I'm sure it won't be," Snatcher replied.

"And your escape was successful, I take it," the Huntsman commented.

Roman nodded. "Flawless."

Snatcher declined to comment on that front.

Neo chose that moment to skip into the hall, holding out the gifts she bore: the Melodic Cudgel and Roman's hat. "Okay, NOW it's flawless," Roman laughed as Neo tossed both items to him.

"Where is Lord Mozenrath?" Snatcher asked. "Has he not returned?"

"I do not believe he has," the Huntsman remarked, now aware of how strange that was.

"All he had to do was steal one ship and come back," Yzma added. "What is TAKING him so long?"

"Let alone Madam Mim, Miss Wuya, and Mr. Aghoul," Snatcher pointed out.

A silence passed between all five present as they tried to avoid the concept of worry.

"I'm sure they're fine," Roman said at last. "You watch. Give them thirty minutes, and Righty will come in here bragging about how he not only got the ship, but figured out where another one of those elements is."

However, as the hours dragged on, it became apparent that Mozenrath, Wuya, Aghoul, and Mim were not to be returning that night, and there was nothing the others could do about it but wait.


	15. Precious Cinnamon Rolls

A/N: A fandom based on a cartoon shows up in this chapter. The AU is post-S4.

15\. Precious Cinnamon Rolls

As a reward for bringing Roman Torchwick to justice – as temporary as that ended up being – Papyrus had been granted a $100 gift card to spend at the New Vulpine mall. While Knightdock had shopping enough to fulfill everyday needs and quite a few frivolities, its fare paled in comparison to the New Vulpine mall, which was a triple-decker of boutiques that seemed to sell everything from cradles to coffins. Papyrus had gotten a bright and early start on traveling over to the metropolis in order to begin questing through the labyrinth of clothing and gift shops. After a few minor purchases of keychains and similar trinkets, he found himself hungry. A pretzel stand set into the wall advertised having varieties of pretzel for both human and monster digestion systems, so Papyrus was drawn to it. It was no spaghetti, but pretzels were a close second.

"EXCUSE ME!" he said to the man behind the counter. "I WOULD LIKE TO PURCHASE ONE OF YOUR PRETZELS!"

"Yeah?" the man replied grumpily. "Which one?"

"HMMM…" Papyrus thought it over, his eyes scanning the menu. There were quite a few varieties to choose from. As a teenage boy and a girl around the same age lined up behind him, he mused out loud, "PERHAPS I WILL TAKE ONE OF YOUR CHEESE STUFFED…NO, A SEASONED…NO, WAIT, A CLASSIC! WAIT. CAN I GET IT AS BITES? DO I WANT IT AS BITES?"

"Look, bonehead, will you hurry up?" the cashier groaned. "I've got actual human customers waiting!"

Papyrus was momentarily struck speechless by this. Of course, it wasn't the first time he'd been referred to as being less important than humans, but it still always gave him pause to hear it. It hurt, but perhaps this man was just having a bad day, he figured. Before he could say anything more, the boy behind him spoke up: "Hey! You can't talk to him like that just because he's not a human!"

"And we don't mind waiting," the girl added. "I don't even know what kind of pretzel I want anyway."

"I think I can say what I want," the cashier replied. "And I also think once you figure it out, you can go ahead and cut in front of this bag of bones. He doesn't have a brain in there to make up anyway, so you'd be waiting forever."

"And I think we don't have to listen to you or get your pretzels after all," the boy resolved, crossing his arms.

"You're not the only food stand in the mall, after all!" the girl added. "…I think. I'm new here."

"THERE IS A CINNAMON ROLL STAND AROUND THE CORNER," Papyrus pointed out.

"Then that's what we're having," the boy decided. "You should come with us! You don't have to put up with this!"

"THAT'S RIGHT!" Papyrus decided. "I CERTAINLY DON'T! YOU, SIR, ARE OBVIOUSLY HAVING A BAD DAY, BUT IT WILL STILL BE A COLD DAY IN THE HOTLANDS BEFORE YOU SEE ME PURCHASING ANY DELICIOUS PRETZELS FROM YOU!"

"Aw, c'mon, all this for one of THEM?" the cashier sighed. "Isn't it enough that we make the weird food for them?"

By that time, the boy and Papyrus were already striding off toward the cinnamon roll stand. The girl turned to stick her tongue out with a "Nyah!" before following them.

"YOU DID NOT HAVE TO GO THROUGH ALL OF THAT TROUBLE AND FORFEIT YOUR DELICIOUS PRETZELS FOR ME!" Papyrus told the pair in awe.

"Well, he wasn't being nice," the girl stated.

"The pretzels wouldn't have been that good anyway," the boy added.

They rounded the corner to where a much friendlier-looking cashier was staffing the cinnamon roll stand; her menu, as well, boasted both human and monster fare. "Hi there!" she greeted with a smile. "What'll it be?"

"I AM FEELING RATHER INDECISIVE AGAIN," Papyrus admitted, looking over the advertised wares. "YOU SHOULD GO FIRST!"

"Well, I know what I want!" The girl sped up to the counter; more quickly than most humans did, Papyrus noticed. "One cup of cinnamon bites, please!"

"And I'll just take one regular roll!" the boy ordered. He turned to his female companion; "I got this." He then proceeded to remove a small drawstring purse from his pocket, and from within, he removed several small glittering crystals of various colors; more, in fact, than should have fit in that purse were it not magic.

"Um…sorry, sweetie," the cashier said, "but I don't think we take those here." She wondered if the boy was from out of the country, and exactly what nation used those small crystals as currency. "The register just isn't set up for them, and I wouldn't know the exchange rate."

"Oh…" The boy was rather flummoxed.

"FEAR NOT!" Papyrus stepped forward. "I WILL COVER ALL THREE OF OUR ORDERS!"

"Really?" the girl replied, in awe. "You don't have to do that!"

"WHAT'S A CINNAMON ROLL OR TWO BETWEEN FRIENDS?" Papyrus offered.

"We're already friends?" the girl asked.

"Of course we are!" the boy supplied. "We took down the evils of the pretzel man together!"

"WOWIE!" Papyrus squealed. "I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! I'VE ALREADY MADE TWO NEW FRIENDS! OH, AND I TOO WILL HAVE THE BITES."

The cashier nodded; she knew what recipe to use for each to make it palatable for their respective digestive systems. "Coming right up!" She swiped Papyrus' gift card and set about readying the rolls.

"NOW THAT WE ARE CINNAMON ROLL FRIENDS," Papyrus decided, "IT IS TIME WE ARE PROPERLY INTRODUCED! I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS! WHAT ARE YOUR NAMES?"

"I'm Sora!" the boy introduced proudly.

"And I'm Ruby," Ruby added. "Ruby Rose!"

As one, they said, "Nice to meet you, Papyrus!" before turning to point at each other and yell, "JINX!" They then burst into a gigglefit.

As the cashier handed out their cinnamon treats, the trio walked deeper into the heart of the mall. "YOU AREN'T FROM AROUND HERE, ARE YOU?" Papyrus asked. "I SAW THE MONEY YOU TRIED TO USE."

"Yeah…" Sora used one hand to scratch at the back of his head while using the other to support his cinnamon roll. "I guess munny only works on worlds that have knowledge of each other. Or with the Moogles. They know all about every world!"

"YOU ARE FROM ANOTHER WORLD?" Papyrus' eyeballs nearly bugged right out of his skull.

"Strange but true!" Ruby confirmed.

"We actually came here looking for bad guys," Sora explained. "But so far, we haven't turned anything up. So we decided to go shopping for a bit to see if we could find any new accessories that might be helpful in battle."

"We were also hungry," Ruby added. "Very, VERY hungry! ThankyouthankyouTHANKYOU again for picking up those cinnamon rolls for us! I promise we'll pay you back!"

"NO NEED!" Papyrus told the duo.

"It might be a little hard to do that right now anyway, if nobody around here takes munny," Sora remarked.

"EVERYONE AROUND HERE TAKES MONEY," Papyrus told him, confused. "JUST NOT YOUR KIND OF MONEY."

"But we'll do something to make it up to you!" Sora resolved. "So…what were you shopping for, anyway?"  
"I DON'T KNOW YET!" Papyrus told them. "I WAS REWARDED WITH A GIFT CARD FOR STOPPING A DANGEROUS EVIL IN MY HOMETOWN, AND I WAS JUST DECIDING WHAT TO SPEND IT ON! ARE YOU THINKING WHAT I AM THINKING?"

"That it would be super fun to get to know each other better while touring this mall?" Sora suggested.

"IT'S LIKE YOU READ MY MIND!" Papyrus cried happily. "WHICH I DO HAVE, BY THE WAY."

"Then let's do it!" Ruby announced. "Sora, Ruby Rose, and the great Papyrus will CONQUER THE MALL!" She popped a cinnamon bite into her mouth. "Mm. That's the good stuff!"

"AND YOU CAN TELL ME ALL ABOUT THE WORLD YOU'RE FROM AND HOW YOU CAME HERE!" Papyrus decided. The idea of other worlds was a little strange to him, but what reason did these two have to lie?

"It's kind of a long story," Sora began, "but here goes!"

...

Mozenrath's gummi ship made a rough touchdown at the edge of a thick, dark forest, at which point Even hurriedly urged everyone to "Get out, get out, and get undercover of the forest! And keep moving! It won't take them long to catch up to us!"

As Mozenrath, Mim, Aghoul, Wuya, and Even progressed further into the wood, they found that it only became darker and wilder. It might even have been frightening to less hardened souls.

"So what makes this world so special?" Mozenrath asked.

"As I said, there is not one human to be seen upon it, save for now us," Even answered. "It has a particular brand of complex magic that frightens many interdimensional travelers away. But the majority of them simply do not know it is here. I doubt our pursuers even had this space on their map labeled before they followed us."

"If humans don't live here," Wuya asked, "what does?"

"Something we don't want to be seen by," Even answered. "Not unless we want to waste our time answering a lot of questions or draw attention to ourselves by putting down all witnesses."

The quintet became aware of a distinct rustling in one of the bushes. "That's one of them now!" Even hissed. "Out of sight!"

"Hold still," Mozenrath commanded.

The next thing Even knew, he was looking at four trees where once there had been mages. Obviously, it was another of Mozenrath's glamours, and he could only assume that he too looked like a tree.

The source of the rustling finished working its way through the bushes, coming into full view. It was a pony, soft yellow in color with a flowing mane of powder pink. A pair of delicate feathered wings lay folded against her back, and her flank was adorned with a sigil of three butterflies. She carried a wicker basket in her mouth. She set it down on the grass in order to speak: "That's strange. I could have sworn I heard somepony talking."

A lithe white rabbit bounded its way into the clearing, hopping over to a bush ripe with purple berries and pointing at it excitedly.

The pony shook her head. "No, no, Angel. The berries we're looking for aren't purple. But thank you anyway. What we're looking for is red berries. Like those!" She picked up the basket again and trotted over to another bush, this one adorned with berries of crimson. After spending a while plucking the berries out from between the leaves with her hooves, somehow not squashing a single one, she picked up the basket, turned around, and left.

After some time had passed, Even announced, "I believe the coast is clear."

The five trees once again became five mages. "I take it this whole world is filled with winged ponies, then?" Mozenrath asked, rather intrigued.

"Ponies make up the primary population, yes," Even told him. "They are divided into three sub-races: the winged pegasi like that one you saw there, unicorns that wield powerful magic, and 'earth ponies,' which have neither wings nor magical horns. The government, on the other hand, is composed of 'alicorns,' or ponies that bear both wings and horns. That's not to speak of the other races that populate this world, such as griffons and dragons."

"Did you say DRAGONS?" Mim's interest was immediately piqued. "Well, if I have to become a dragon to fit in…" She gave a playful shrug.

Even fired her a glare. "No. If you want to walk amongst the inhabitants of this world without raising suspicion, you will do so as a pony."

"Oh, fine!" Mim shimmered into the body of a magenta unicorn around the size of the pegasus they'd seen come through earlier.

"No, no, no!" Even shook his head. "You're forgetting the mark! They all bear those marks on their flanks to display who they are! It is a symbol of their very soul, and for a grown pony to be seen without one, well, you'd be better off not drawing attention by turning into a dragon!"

Mim turned to look back at her flank for a moment. After some deliberation, she chose a design: a withered, dead flower with black petals drew itself upon her coat. "There!" she remarked proudly.

"That's all well and good," Mozenrath commented, "but the rest of us don't change shape that easily. I suppose I could whip up another glamour…"

"Well, I assumed you would be able to change forms by conducting Mim's shapeshifting power through your gauntlet," Even said sternly.

He was met with a silence that told him all too much. "DON'T tell me you don't know what I'm talking about!" he groaned. "Must I do EVERYTHING for you? Particular specialty powers can be temporarily transferred through an act of physical contact and a sharing of will. In other words, if Mim were to put her hoof in Mozenrath's hand, and the two of them connected mentally in a way that they would allow each other permission to use their power, then Mozenrath could not only shapeshift, but cast shapeshifting over everyone else present. Is that clear enough for you?"

"For the record, I knew you could do that all along," Wuya commented.

"Then why didn't you say anything earlier?" Even accused.

"Well…" Mozenrath looked to Mim. "If you'll let me use your power for my own…"

"Just so long as you don't go making a big mess with it!" Mim replied. "That's MY job!"

"I'm well aware."

Mim reached up a hoof, and Mozenrath awkwardly settled his left hand around it. It took them a few moments of silence and confusion to connect their energies, but soon, Mozenrath was able to find Mim's aura at the edges of his own: a highly pressurized entity, ready to blow up at any second. Mim was more surprised by what Mozenrath's felt like: chilling and rotten. After a brief period of focus on each other's energies, Mozenrath clenched his fist, and the magic that sparked around it was not blue but purple. He cast his hand outward, sweeping across all of his current companions, and they changed immediately.

All were unicorns, and all had manes that resembled the hair that dominated their heads as humans – Aghoul, of course, had no mane, and instead just a twisted dark beard. Mozenrath was a deep hue of royal blue, with a black swirl vaguely identifiable as windblown sand as his Cutie Mark. (Even declined telling him the proper name of the design, as he knew it wouldn't go over well, and might result in the crucial Cutie Marks being eliminated from the new forms on principle.) Though the others' clothes had been mostly neutralized, Mozenrath retained his gauntlet, now more hoof-shaped, on his right front leg; beneath it, the leg was as skeletal as the limb had always been. Wuya was jet black, with a Cutie Mark that resembled the puzzle box that had once been her prison. Aghoul was light lavender, with a skull as his Cutie Mark. Even was light blue, with a slightly darker blue Cutie Mark in the shape of his shield.

"Satisfactory," Even remarked, turning a 360 to look himself over. "Now we can blend in long enough to formulate a plan to lose our pursuers."

"And how exactly are we doing to do that, Mr. Smart Guy?" Aghoul asked.

Something tingled at the edge of Wuya's senses. "There's something magical nearby," she observed. "It isn't a Shen Gong Wu, but…something similar."

"If it's magic," Mozenrath resolved, "we might as well take a look into it."

"What about our pursuers?" Even snapped.

"Think of it this way, Even," Mozenrath told him. "If whatever we find is powerful enough, it might just solve that little problem for us."

Even snorted. "I must admit that has merit."

"To the magical whatever-it-is!" Aghoul crowed as the quintet of unicorns meandered further into the heart of the Everfree Forest.

...

Aboard Grimhilde and Cruella's ship, which had landed some distance away from the forest, the Mirror's glass showed a fresco of multicolored ponies trotting back and forth down the streets of a nearby town: shopping, heading to and from school, making deliveries, and other such errands of life.

"There seems not to be a single human among them," Grimhilde observed.

"Why, DARLING!" Cruella gushed, positively giddy. "Look at all of their beautifully colored coats! Do you realize the clothing that could be made out of those colors? Of course, horsehair isn't in high demand, but the people would certainly make an exception for this. Especially if I trimmed them with the feathers from the winged ones! Of course, I'd save the best for my own personal use, but there are so MANY. By selling them off, I'd make millions! And those unique marks on their behinds would make such novelties. Grimmie, dear, it's positively perfect!"

Grimhilde bristled slightly at the nickname. It wasn't entirely unpleasant, especially given the speech it had come at the end of, but she was quite unused to pet names. She cast her hand over the mirror, and it showed her different scenes: ponies in a larger kingdom, ponies in a modern cityscape, dragons in the mountains, griffons on the peaks. No humans whatsoever. "Perhaps, in order to travel this world discreetly, we shall need to change form," she mused. "There are certain forms that would also give us distinct advantages against Mozenrath and his cohorts…not to mention the sheer amount of unicorns I have seen. This is a realm of powerful magic."

"Where is the little brat, anyhow?" Cruella asked impatiently.

Grimhilde kept her eyes on the mirror. "Where the unicorns frolic and the pegasus glides, show me wherein this Mozenrath hides."

The solemn voice came once more from the man in the mirror: "The whereabouts you want to know upon this world are what I show." Flames rose up in the glass, then immediately gave over to a buzzing static screen not unlike what would be seen on an electronic television and certainly not something that happened routinely to magical mirrors.

"Is it supposed to do that?" Cruella asked.

"No…" Grimhilde scowled.

The mirror was then filled with the image of a stained glass window. A long and limber creature, part dragon and part pony, was depicted in the angular glass, doing a repetitive dance, shuffling its feet over the head of a larger image and extending and retracting its fists. Obnoxiously loud dance music blared from the Mirror.

"WHAT in the worlds!" Cruella spat.

"A draconequus," Grimhilde identified stonily. "A creature of great power. No doubt he is preventing us from seeing what we wish to see."

"Well, why would he want to do that?"

"Perhaps keeping Mozenrath's location a secret is beneficial to his own end," Grimhilde suspected. "Or perhaps we are merely his most recent victims in a line of trickery."

"Well, turn it off! I can't stand that MUSIC!"

Grimhilde cast a hand out before the mirror, and the glass went completely blank, the music cutting off as well. "It seems we shall have to locate them ourselves," Grimhilde huffed. "Come with me, Cruella."

"You're not thinking of…?" Cruella followed Grimhilde out of the mirror room and into a part of the ship that had been converted into an alchemical laboratory, with book-laden shelves and glass beakers and goblets scattered around.

"Giving us new, more powerful forms?" Grimhilde finished for her. "That I am." She began to sweep around the laboratory, gathering powders and pastes made from plants, stones, and things both recently and long dead.

Cruella gave a short laugh to hide her discomfort. "Darling, please. You wouldn't expect me to ruin this beauty by transforming into some animal, would you?"  
"If I can do it…" Grimhilde paused as she opened a jar that let out a scream; once the scream was collected in a beaker, she shut the jar and all was silent once more. "Then so can you. Though you may in fact find it liberating."

"Well." Cruella folded her arms, watching Grimhilde work. "I'll take your word for it."

Grimhilde mixed, brewed, and boiled for quite a while, at last producing two glass goblets filled with potions. The liquid in Grimhilde's was a deep violet color, fizzing with bubbles. Cruella's, on the other hand, was silver, and its surface sparkled. The stark difference between the two potions made Cruella wonder if she'd in fact been given a poison instead of a transformation elixir. However, she figured if Grimhilde had wanted to get rid of her, she would have done it much earlier.

They lifted the glasses to their lips at the same time, taking long swallows. At the very least, Cruella thought, the liquid in her goblet didn't taste like poison. It was actually sweet. She watched as Grimhilde finished off hers, then dropped the goblet, letting it thunk against the floor, clutching at her throat.

"Grimmie - !" Cruella called out before she too was overtaken by the sensation of something metaphysical gripping her entire body. She was forced down onto her hands and knees, the room spinning as her body contracted and stretched. Perhaps she'd been poisoned after all, she thought, but when the transformation was over, she felt well again, and she knew Grimhilde had been sincere with her. She hustled into the adjacent room to get a look at herself in the glass of the Mirror, which was now reduced to an ordinary reflective surface. She was much shorter now. While her body was still bipedal, she had become a fluffy dog, black-coated on one side and white-coated on the other. Her arms were twice the length of her legs, able to reach the ground when she stood; leaning forward just enough to put them on the ground was a comfortable stance.

A throaty chuckle sounded from behind her, followed by "You're a Diamond Dog now, my pet!"

Cruella whirled to see Grimhilde looming in the door behind her. The queen had opted for an entirely different creature. Her lower body resembled that of a large black-feathered bird, with two large sets of talons protruding from her legs to scrape at the floor. Her spine was hunched over, and she kept her voluminous black wings huddled around her like a cloak. From the collarbone up, she had a more human appearance, though barely. Her skin was purple, matching that of her legs, and instead of a nose and mouth, her face was taken over by a deep plum-colored hooked beak. A wild mane of black hair spread out from the top of her head. Her eyes were solid black, with no discernible iris or pupil.

"And what are you supposed to be?" Cruella asked.

"Why, a harpy, of course!" Grimhilde threw back her head and laughed, sending a chill through Cruella. With the transformation of body, there was beginning to show another side to Grimhilde; Cruella hadn't seen the queen smile once since meeting her, but now, despite the beak, she could tell that a form of mirth had overcome the woman. "Those ponies will be much less of a match for us now!"

Cruella raked her own claws against the floor. "I suppose they won't, will they?"

"Now come!" Grimhilde beckoned. "We must find Mozenrath, and we will do so even if we must claw our way through every pony village on the map! And when we find him, we shall TEAR him limb from limb!"

Cruella had to admit she liked the change that had overcome her partner. "Well, then, what are we waiting for?"

...

In the end, Papyrus didn't spend any more from his gift card. After all, it would have been rude to buy extravagant things in front of Sora and Ruby when they had no money they could use, and they'd already made it clear they didn't want him to buy anything else for them. Besides, what purchase was worth more than spending a day at the mall with new friends? Even without buying anything, the trio still had a good time trying on flamboyant clothes, gawking at gift shop fineries, and reading the summaries of the wares in the used bookstore to see what sounded interesting and what sounded plain ridiculous. Sora explained the Destiny Islands, Radiant Garden, Disney Castle, and his quest; Ruby explained Remnant and how she'd come to cross paths with Sora. Papyrus, in turn, told the pair about how he had once lived in the underground kingdom, but had recently moved aboveground to join human society.

Ruby was by now used to the sight of him. When she'd first seen him, she had been afraid; skeletons, in her mind, weren't supposed to move around with no skin or muscle to propel them. However, Sora had known a living skeleton on another world, not to mention all sorts of monsters, and he explained to Ruby that in some worlds, it was more common to see walking and talking skeletons than it was to see humans. This made Ruby wonder what else all existed out there among the stars on the different worlds. Putting her best foot forward, she had soon bonded with Papyrus as much as Sora had. There was something she couldn't put her finger on about him, something familiar. He was so eager to make friends, and though she guessed he was older than her and Sora, he had a certain naiveté about various situations.

The moment came when the trio had exhausted the mall. "Well, I guess that was the last store," Sora announced.

"What are you going to do now?" Ruby asked Papyrus.

"WHAT AM I GOING TO DO NOW?" Papyrus repeated. "YOU ARE THE ONES ON THE HEROIC QUEST! WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO NOW?"

"Same quest, I guess," Sora said with a shrug. "We'll keep exploring this world to see if we turn anything up."

"Do you want to come with us?" Ruby asked. "It's okay if you have other things to do. But today was so much fun!"

"IT REALLY WAS!" Papyrus agreed. "I'LL TELL YOU WHAT. I WILL GIVE YOU A TOUR OF MY HOMETOWN AND SHOW YOU EVERYTHING WORTH EXPLORING! THAT WAY, WE CAN CONTINUE YOUR QUEST TOGETHER! MAYBE YOU WILL FIND WHAT YOU ARE LOOKING FOR!"

"Sounds great!" Sora replied. "The more, the merrier!"

"RIGHT THIS WAY!" Papyrus beckoned, beginning the walk to the parking lot of the New Vulpine mall. "PREPARE FOR THE MOST THOROUGH TOUR OF KNIGHTDOCK YOU SHALL EVER RECEIVE! I KNOW THE TOWN LIKE THE BACK OF MY HAND!"

Soon, Sora and Ruby were sharing the back seat of Papyrus' red convertible, which cruised at a quick pace down the road beneath the bright summer sun. They weaved around traffic downtown, then left the New Vulpine limits on a course for Knightdock. From the radio, a jaunty song played, accentuating the good mood everyone seemed to be in. When it ended, a dramatic voice announced, "I do so love that one! Don't you, Blooky?"  
"I guess," a monotone voice responded with a sigh.

"Well, we aren't going to stop the beat yet!" the dramatic voice continued. "Broadcasting right out of Knightdock, you're listening to the Double Trouble Hour on MTT Radio!" An even more upbeat song took the place of the last one.

"There's one thing you didn't tell us," Sora realized. "You said you got all that money from stopping some bad guy. How did that happen?"  
"I'M GLAD YOU ASKED!" Papyrus replied, keeping his eyes on the road. "IT STARTED OFF AS JUST ANOTHER DAY IN THE LIFE OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS. I WAS TAKING CARE OF BUSINESS AS USUAL, BUT I HAD AN EYE OUT FOR EVIL, AS USUAL. AFTER ALL, MY ROYAL GUARD TRAINING STUCK WITH ME! I AM ALWAYS COMBAT READY!"

"Wait, what did you just say?" Ruby prompted.

"I SAID, DUE TO MY EXTENSIVE TRAINING FOR THE FORMER ROYAL GUARD, I AM ALWAYS COMBAT READY!"

It clicked. Ruby knew what Papyrus reminded her of. For a moment, she had to close her eyes hard.

"Ruby?" Sora asked. "Are…you okay?"

"I'm fine," Ruby replied, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill forth. "It's just something a friend of mine used to say."

Knowing the general fates of most of Ruby's friends besides Jaune, Ren, and Nora, Sora formulated a theory in his mind about what might have happened to the friend Ruby had known who liked to use that phrase.

"I'm sorry." Ruby blinked her eyes open, having conquered the wave of emotion. "Keep telling your story, Papyrus."

"ARE YOU SURE YOU'RE OKAY?" Papyrus asked; having kept his focus on the road ahead, he hadn't seen Ruby's reaction, but it had sounded like she wasn't quite all right.

"I'm good," Ruby told him. "I promise. And I really wanna hear this story! Especially the part where you triumph over evil!"

"WELL," Papyrus picked up, "ALL OF A SUDDEN, I HEARD A COMMOTION COMING FROM A NEARBY GAS STATION! SOME VAGABOND HAD STOLEN SEVERAL CANDY BARS FROM IT, AND HE HAD A GUN! I IMMEDIATELY ENGAGED HIM IN COMBAT, THOUGH I DID ALSO ASK HIM TO GIVE THE CANDY BACK. BUT OF COURSE, THE EVILDOER THAT HE WAS, HE REFUSED TO, AND I WAS FORCED TO DUEL HIM IN ORDER TO STOP HIM FROM STEALING ANYTHING ELSE OR HURTING ANYONE ELSE! IT WAS A LONG AND HARD BATTLE. I USED ALL THE MAGIC I COULD THINK OF, AND HE USED HIS VERY STRANGE GUN. BUT EVENTUALLY, I WAS VICTORIOUS! WHICH CAME AS NO SURPRISE TO ME, OF COURSE."

"Strange gun?" Ruby asked, interest piqued by the idea of an elaborate weapon. "What kind of strange gun?"

"WELL, IT ACTUALLY LOOKED LIKE A CANE, BUT IT FIRED RED MAGIC OUT ONE END – "

Ruby shrieked, startling Papyrus into momentarily swerving; he got the car under control immediately. "WHAT IS WRONG?" he asked worriedly.

"A cane that's also a gun!" Ruby reiterated. "Did this guy have red hair? Was he wearing eyeliner, a white jacket, and a bowler hat?"

"Hey," Sora recalled. "That sounds like…"

"THAT WAS EXACTLY HIM!" Papyrus cried. "HAVE YOU DEALT WITH HIM BEFORE?"

"THAT'S ROMAN TORCHWICK!" Ruby shrieked. "HE'S HERE ON THIS WORLD!"

"That's one of the guys who was messing around with our friends!" Sora recalled.

"Is he still in town?" Ruby asked hurriedly. "What happened to him after you fought?"

"HE WAS TAKEN INTO CUSTODY BY THE POLICE," Papyrus answered. "AFTER WHICH THEY PRESENTED ME WITH MY REWARD, WHICH LEADS ME TO THE PART WHERE WE MET!"

"Can you take us to where he is?" Ruby asked.

"Maybe we can finally get some information out of him!" Sora added with a nod. "It's also good to know that one of them is locked up. Now we just have to find the rest!"

"SO YOU'VE DEALT WITH THIS 'ROMAN TORCHWICK' BEFORE!" Papyrus identified.

"He's a dangerous enemy," Ruby explained. "I'm really glad he didn't hurt you."

Ruby had explained more about Remnant and Roman to Sora on the gummi ride to this world. "Ruby's fought a lot of bad guys," Sora explained, "but I think Roman is the one she's fought the most often."

"HE IS YOUR ARCHNEMESIS!" Papyrus proclaimed.

"He kinda is," Ruby realized. "I have an archnemesis. That's weird."

"ONWARD WE GO," Papyrus announced, "TO INTERROGATE YOUR CAPTIVE ARCHNEMESIS!"

...

Deep in the Everfree Forest, one tree stood out among all the others. Nestled in the back of a hidden grove, it was much shorter than its fellows, glimmering a luminescent white-blue. Its branches bore drooping leaves like those of a willow, and a six-pointed star design was set in its trunk where its branches came together.

"This is it," Wuya announced. "This is what I was sensing!"

"It's definitely magical," Mozenrath observed. "Trees don't usually glow like that. I wonder…" He stepped closer to the tree, giving it a good look. Wuya, Mim, Aghoul, and Even crowded in around him.

"Now I bet you're wondering what that is," a sixth, unknown voice chimed in.

All five unicorns whirled about to see quite a strange sight indeed. The creature that had crept up on them appeared to be an amalgamation of several different animals: his body was furry, his tail scaly, his head horned asymmetrically, his left front leg a paw, his right front leg a talon, his lower legs a reptilian claw and a bovine hoof respectively, two mismatched wings protruding from his back. Mozenrath recognized his ilk as easily as Grimhilde had; this was a draconequus, and more to the point, though Mozenrath had no way of knowing it, it was the same draconequus that had interrupted Grimhilde's ability to scry for him. This draconequus was making himself comfortable reclining on a hammock that was held up by absolutely nothing and hadn't been there before. "Well?" he reiterated. "Aren't five seasoned sorcerers like yourselves just itching with curiosity about what kind of magic could be in that tree?"

Mozenrath didn't like his teasing tone. "And you are…?"

"Oh, just one of this world's many colorful inhabitants," the draconequus replied. A tall glass of limeade appeared in his talon, a crazy straw sticking out. He swished the drink around for a few moments before taking the straw out and biting off a chunk of it. "Who happens to know a thing or two about magic."

"This is some kind of trick, isn't it?" Wuya asked, raising a brow.

"Why, not at all!" After he finished off the straw, the draconequus proceeded to start drinking the glass from around the limeade, which had solidified into a cylinder. When he finished, he crushed the limeade in his hand like an aluminum can, dropping it to the ground, where it caught on pink flames. "I just thought that since you were new here and all, you might appreciate having somepony show you some of the ropes."

"And how do YOU know where we're from?" Even barked.

"I guess I didn't make myself clear." The draconequus got up out of the hammock, rolling it up before using it to beat out the flames on the limeade. "I know just about EVERYTHING that goes on in this world." He produced a scissors from thin air, using it to cut at the rolled-up hammock at specific angles. "And a few things that go on outside of it. For example, take a look at this." He dismissed the scissors, and when he unfolded the mass of string in his hands, it was a perfect woven design of each of the five mages' human forms, connected to each other by one common string. "Ta-daaaaaaa!"

Mim applauded with her front hooves. Mozenrath remained suspicious. "So you know who we are," he reiterated. "Why are you so interested in us?"

"Well, you see," the draconequus replied, "I have a particular history with that tree you're looking at. Once upon a time, I was a very, very bad draconequus. Can you BELIEVE I even tried to take over this world? Oh, but that's all behind me now. I've learned my lesson. I am a reformed Discord!"

Something in his tone led his listening audience to be skeptical.

"That's my name, by the way," the draconequus went on. "Discord. What are yours? No, wait, don't tell me. You look EXACTLY like a Mozenrath, an Ayam, a Mim, a Wuya, and an Even. Am I close?" Discord winked.

"You were exact!" Aghoul replied, legitimately stunned.

"He knows everything about us," Even sighed. "He's just toying with us at this point."

"You were saying something about the tree," Mozenrath urged.

"Oh, yes, the Tree of Harmony!" Discord went on. "It's the home of a very powerful magic known as the Elements of Harmony. The physical incarnations of Kindness, Generosity, Loyalty, Honesty, Laughter, and Magic itself."

"How disgusting!" Mim broke in, flinching. Wuya had to admit she felt the same way about the prospect.

"How are those things actually magic?" Mozenrath sighed.

"How do you think?" Discord challenged. "Isn't there a very powerful subset of magic that can transmute things like light, gravity, and intangible concepts?"

"You are referring to Aether," Even stated, matter-of-fact.

And Mozenrath knew exactly where that was leading. "You know we need a powerful element of Aether."

"You do? I never would have guessed!" Discord chuckled. "Anyhow, the Elements inside that tree were brought out to defeat me, and I became imprisoned in stone for over a thousand years. Then, when I finally got back out to this glorious world, I was defeated by the Elements again." He fumbled with the string, and now the design showed six ponies: two unicorns, two pegasi, and two earth ponies. "They just couldn't let me catch a break. Then there was another stone prison, then I came back OUT, then – "

"Get to the point," Mozenrath growled.

"I used a little trick to get them to put the Elements back in that tree," Discord continued. "That way, they wouldn't be in my way anymore. We've found our ways to make peace with all the little ponies. I have my little fun with them sometimes, I back down and let them have the stage sometimes…still, if anything ever were to take the Elements out of that tree, this world would be a lot more fun. Well, except for the fact that whoever did it would probably use the Elements to be a complete killjoy and get rid of any chaos I tried…or anypony else tried…to make. Unless, of course, somepony took the Elements COMPLETELY away. To another world, perhaps?"

"You want us to take the Elements of Harmony so you can have a free reign," Mozenrath deciphered. "Is that it?"

"I was just throwing some hypotheticals out there," Discord said with a shrug, cracking the string design like a whip; it burned out like a fuse until it was gone.

"I think we'll be taking whatever's in that magic tree whether you like it or not," Aghoul stated, spinning on a hoof to face the tree again. His horn glowed with a purple aura, and a bolt of pure energy struck the tree with no result.

"You see, that's the thing," Discord went on. "There are a few certain rules about the Elements of Harmony. First of all, only ponies who intend to use them for good can take them out of the tree. Second, the same ponies can never take them out of the tree twice. Third, if you wielded the Elements at all at any point, you still can't take them out of the tree. There are currently eight living ponies who already had their run and can't touch them again."

"Why TELL us about them if we can't TAKE them?" Mozenrath growled.

"So we can figure out a way to get them by actually using our heads instead of blasting our way through everything," Even broke in. "Presuming everything Discord has said is true, which it might not be, what we would need to do is create some sort of threat that would require a new set of ponies who wish to play hero to come retrieve the Elements, at which point we would take them for ourselves."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Mim crowed excitedly, bouncing up and down on her hooves. "Let's go cause some chaos!"

"And be found by our pursuers immediately?" Even barked.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry too much about them," Discord remarked. "I gave the five of you a bit of a…head start."

"Now here's an idea," Wuya brought up. "What if we did give them a reason to bring the Elements back out…but not to use against us?"

"You're suggesting we lead Maleficent's henchwomen to their midst," Mozenrath realized, "and make the locals bring out their little Elements to vanquish THEM!"

"Precisely," Wuya confirmed.

"Well, it's not as fun as making the mess ourselves," Aghoul commented, "but it definitely has potential!"

"Not to mention that if the locals finish them off for us," Mozenrath concluded, "we don't have to worry about them anymore."

"But then how do we get the Elements away from them before they use them on us?" Mim pondered.

Mozenrath looked to Discord. "I don't suppose you would be of any help in that department."

Discord shrugged. "I've played the game for myself enough times. Now, it's more fun if I MAKE the game and watch YOU play."

"So that's a no," Mozenrath translated.

"I will give you one more hint," Discord decided, "and this is your last freebie. You might want to read up on the Crystal Empire. You should have no problems getting ideas what to do with THAT."

"The Crystal Empire," Mozenrath repeated. "Sounds promising."

"Well, you kids have fun now!" Discord teased. "Don't play nice!" He twisted into an impossible contortion of physics before disappearing into thin air.

"And we know he's not trying to trick us how?" Even snapped.

"We don't," Mozenrath admitted. "And he did make it seem a bit too simple. But there is something magical inside that tree, and we might as well figure out what it is. Maybe someone else can back up his story. After all, he said the Elements had been wielded before. Well, Even, since you know so much about this world, what's the quickest way to civilization?"

"This way." Even began down a path. "The nearest town is called Ponyville. I haven't spent much time in it myself. It's dreadfully boring. But at the very least, it should have a library or another source of information we can use to corroborate Discord's story."

"Ponyville," Wuya repeated. "You're not serious."

"Unfortunately," Even confirmed as the others fell into step behind him, "I am."

...

After a night had passed, Yzma, the Huntsman, Snatcher, Roman, and Neo had to admit that Mozenrath, Wuya, Mim, and Aghoul weren't coming back at the planned time.

"I swear, if he ditched us here…" Roman grumbled.

"He wouldn't," Yzma reassured him. "Not while we were in possession of the Cornerstone of Light and the Dust. Now, if he had those things, maybe THEN we could worry."

"Time passes differently on each world," the Huntsman reminded the others. "Perhaps to them, it has only been an hour."

"Yes, but Lord Mozenrath would have known and accounted for a time difference in Radiant Garden," Snatcher pointed out. "It was a world he was familiar with."

"Whatever happened, we currently have to go on without them," Yzma stated with finality. "As it stands, we know where the monster queen is." She held up an article trimmed from one of the newspapers they'd accumulated; the headline read "FORMER MONSTER QUEEN SETTLES DOWN AS LOCAL TEACHER." "Once we learned her name and occupation, it was a simple matter to track down her place of residence. As discussed, Neo and I shall infiltrate."

"You sure you don't need us for this?" Roman asked.

"You two will be active later," Yzma reminded them, "and it would do us well to have different faces out and about. All the better to cover our tracks. Besides, Neo and I have everything planned to the letter!"

Neo nodded enthusiastically.

"The rest of you can stay here and keep an eye on the eel," Yzma concluded.

"Xerxes hardly requires three sitters," the Huntsman growled.

"And you three would just be in the way of our plan!" Yzma hissed. Neo nodded her agreement. "We'll be back shortly. Just try not to destroy the base while we're gone."

After Yzma and Neo had departed, Roman huffed, "Like we're going to let anything happen to the base. Like anything exciting is even going to – "

A great gray ostrich, making a panicked yell, crashed through the hallway, heading down a side corridor; the sound of a knocked-over bookshelf and breaking glass came soon after.

"Don't tell me," Roman sighed.

"Xerxes," the Huntsman supplied. "He must've gotten into Yzma's potions."

"Again," Snatcher groaned.

The trio readied their weapons; they had a rogue eel-turned-ostrich to catch.

...

Yzma took a deep breath, then knocked at the door of the squat one-story white house. After waiting for a minute, she remembered that the people of this day and age used doorbells, and she pressed the one set in the paneling next to the door.

There came the sound of feet shuffling through the hallway, and Yzma suddenly found the door open and herself face-to-face with a woman who appeared to be mostly anthropomorphic goat, clad in a skirt and cardigan of lavender. "Can I help you?" the former queen of the monsters asked.

"Yes, Miss…Toriel?" Yzma replied.

Toriel nodded.

Yzma's eyes flicked to the side of the house, where some of the decorative shrubbery rustled. She knew Neo was on her way to crowbar open one of the back windows. All Yzma had to do was keep Toriel occupied, and she knew just how to do that. After all, the newspapers had provided her with one other crucial piece of information: the name of the fallen child who had brought all the monsters to the freedom of the upper world, and who had consequently been named their ambassador: a close friend of Toriel's. "I wanted to talk to you about how Frisk has been doing in school," she stated.

"Oh?" Toriel replied, rather surprised. She didn't recognize this woman in the slightest.

"You see…I'm Frisk's uncle's cousin's nephew's half-brother's great-aunt," Yzma lied.

Instinctively, Toriel thought Yzma looked more like a great-great-great-great-aunt, but she kept that thought to herself. Frisk had never mentioned such a woman, but then again, Frisk didn't talk much about their biological family at all. Toriel had yet to meet the child's parents, though Frisk had insisted that was for good reason.

Neo slipped a crowbar beneath one of the windows at the back of the house, easily snapping it open. She slithered inside the house, glad that Toriel hadn't had the chance to rig it up with a burglar alarm. Once inside, she located the bedroom quickly. There had to be pay dirt in here. She rifled through dresser drawers, sifting through stacks of lavender clothing, making sure to put everything neatly back the way she'd found it once she was done seeking.

"I wanted to discuss Frisk's grades with you," Yzma told Toriel.

"Really?" Toriel was confused. "Frisk has had very good grades all year."

"…And that's what I wanted to discuss," Yzma covered quickly. "Thank you for being such a wonderful teacher!"

"You're welcome." Toriel nodded. "I just wish I could do something about Frisk's bullying problem."

"Bullying problem?" Yzma repeated.

"They haven't told you?" Toriel was surprised.

"Who's 'they'?" Yzma replied. "Frisk and who else?"

"'They' are Frisk," Toriel explained. "That's why they're bullied so much. Oh, dear, I suppose they probably haven't talked about it much with the extended family." Toriel was sure she'd just let something slip that Frisk should have been able to reveal to their relative in their own time.

"…I'm lost," Yzma admitted.

"Well, you see…" Toriel faltered. "Oh, I don't know if I should be saying this. It's Frisk's business, really."

"We have admittedly had some problems with this…sort of thing…at home," Yzma improvised. "Miss Toriel, if there is anything you can do to explain it more clearly so we know what is going on with Frisk, then we will do our best to help her."

Toriel thought it over. Frisk had said their parents didn't really understand, but perhaps this relative would. "Frisk…doesn't like to be thought of as a girl," Toriel explained at last. "Or a boy. The other children think they should be one or the other at the very least if not a girl."

"And what do you think?" Yzma asked. She couldn't have cared less, but she hadn't seen a sign from Neo yet, and she needed to stall for time.

"I think Frisk is what they are," Toriel replied. "And Frisk knows what they are. It's just a matter of getting everyone else to see it."

Inside the house, Neo finally found what she was looking for at the bottom of a sock drawer. Photographs. Seven of them. Each was of a different child. There was nothing else they could be but the children who corresponded with the dead souls; the ones who had met their final fates in the underground. She flipped one of the pictures over; it was labeled with a name. "Chara." In fact, they were all labeled with names. Neo couldn't have asked for better luck. She rifled through the drawer and found some more photographs featuring the fallen children. Some were of the youngsters helping Toriel out around a house, taken from a camera from Toriel's perspective. Other photographs, ones that had been given to Toriel by a certain friend, were of the little ones playing in what Neo recognized as the town of Snowdin, back when monsters actually lived in it. She stuffed all the photographs into a pocket and shut the drawer. Toriel would notice the broken window lock, and that the photographs were missing…eventually. But she wouldn't know when they were taken or who to trace it to.

Neo made her way back out the window, sneaking across the lawn. She made herself visible to Yzma, giving her a thumbs-up.

Yzma caught the signal as Toriel was saying, "So if you could please let Frisk know you're there to support them…"

"Yes, yes." Yzma waved her hands. "Thank you for letting me know about…all that." She couldn't even remember what it was that Toriel had been talking about. "I'll be sure to be of support, yes! I'm glad we had this talk! Well, so much to do, so little time! Goodbye!"

As the old woman sped off, Toriel wondered if she'd done the right thing in confiding in her. Then again, it would be good if Frisk could have one member of their biological family on their side, at least. And if not, Toriel would always be there.

...

Ponyville was a candy-colored town with a pleasant atmosphere. Almost everypony in it seemed to be happy as they went about their daily business. It reminded Mozenrath, Aghoul, Wuya, and Mim of Disney Town, and that made it sickening.

"You didn't mention it was this…" Mozenrath hissed to Even, trying to find the right words.

"Much of an eyesore!" Mim whispered.

Mozenrath nodded. Those were the right words.

"I didn't think it pertinent," Even hissed back. "And how was I to know what you would consider an eyesore?"

"Well, we're here, so we should make the best of it," Aghoul whispered. He then trotted over to where a cream-colored pony with a burgundy mane and a rose-shaped Cutie Mark was watering a patch of flowers. "Excuse me, miss!" Aghoul put on his best seductive face. "Would you mind telling a stallion which way it is to the local library?"

The pony set down her watering can for a moment to answer; "It's that way!" She pointed down the main street to where a moderately sized castle of blue and purple, shaped vaguely like a tree, towered at the edge of town.

"Why, thank you, miss!" Aghoul replied, batting his eyelashes. "Now, you wouldn't happen to be single, would y – "

"No time for that!" Wuya telekinetically dragged Aghoul away, surrounding him in green aura.

"Either this town really values reading," Mozenrath pointed out, "or their library is housed with one of their royals."

"I…haven't been here in a while," Even admitted. "That castle wasn't there last time I visited this place."

"How did you turn into a pony, anyway?" Mim asked.

"I would usually have been prepared with a transformation potion or other spell," Even admitted. "Given our hasty getaway and our unscheduled stop on this world, I didn't have time to prepare."

As they neared the towering castle, Even then added, "And by the way, if any one of you thinks to interrupt while I am reading, I will freeze you solid."

"Interrupt me," Mozenrath added, "and I'll incinerate you to ashes."

Even and Mozenrath then exchanged a look; what had just passed between them was almost kindred. They gave each other a half-smile of approval before Mozenrath reached up to knock on the castle door.


	16. All Aboard

A/N: MAJOR thanks to GAvillain for some of the logistics in this chapter. Some ideas in the train section are flat-out his. I have him to thank for a lot of this fic, but especially this chapter.

Also, old ships die hard.

16\. All Aboard

Inside the Ponyville castle, which doubled as a library, Equestria's very own resident alicorn Princess of Friendship trotted up and down the halls, plucking one or two books from each shelf by magic and adding them to a floating stack.

Behind her, a young dragon looked nervously at the increasingly taller stack, knowing he'd have to carry it eventually. "Twilight," he groaned, "it's a weekend trip! You won't need THAT many books!"

"Oh, won't I, Spike?" Princess Twilight Sparkle replied. "What happens if the train gets held up? What happens if Shining Armor and Cadance have to call an emergency council? What happens if we get snowed into the Empire? Then everypony will be glad I brought books so we aren't bored!"

"The others usually have a pretty easy time not being bored anyway," Spike pointed out.

"True," Twilight admitted. "But still, I always like to have some extra reading material on hoof."

There came a knock at the door, and Twilight and Spike both perked up. "You think that's one of our friends?" Spike asked. "Maybe it's Rarity! Not that I, uh, was hoping for her or anything…"

Twilight shook her head. "They all said they'd meet us at the train station. It must be somepony who wants to check out a book! Good thing they made it before we left!" Carefully bringing the levitating books along with her, Twilight proceeded to the front door. Setting the books down gently, she eased the doors open via magic. "Hi there!" she greeted the five unicorns who stood before her. "How can I help you?"

"We're looking for books about magic," Mozenrath replied.

"Well, then, you've come to the right place!" Twilight stepped back, extending a hoof to indicate the castle's interior. "Come on in!"

Mozenrath, Wuya, Aghoul, Mim, and Even trotted inside, the last of the bunch looking about curiously to see if there were any clues to why there was suddenly a castle here that functioned as the library.

"So what exactly are you looking for?" Twilight asked.

"A couple subjects, actually," Mozenrath replied, turning to face her. "First of all, we'll take whatever material you have about the Elements of Harmony. Second, we'd like to learn more about the Crystal Empire."

"Am I ever close to THOSE subjects," Twilight commented. "I actually think I have what you're looking for right here." She levitated a book out of the middle of her stack of vacation reading material. "As far as the Elements of Harmony go, anyway. This should tell you the basics. Though really, the most important things about the Elements have only been discovered recently. There hasn't been time for anypony to sit down and write a book on everything. That's the most recent work there is, and it calls the sixth Element a 'mystery' when everypony knows it's magic! As for the Crystal Empire, that's gonna be a little bit harder. There hasn't been much time to write about that one, either, since it reappeared. We have some texts, but they're really archaic and don't cover the post-Sombra period."

"Well, I'll take the book on the Elements, at least," Mozenrath decided, levitating that book into his own vicinity.

"If you don't mind my asking," Even inquired, "where can a unicorn learn more about the Crystal Empire?"

"Actually, Spike and I were going there with a few friends for the weekend," Twilight informed him. "There's a train headed there in less than half an hour, if you're not too busy."

"Our day is clear of plans," Wuya told Twilight.

"If you're interested in magic, you'll love the Empire," Twilight gushed. "I think it might be the most magical place in all Equestria."

"Tell me more about that," Mozenrath commanded.

"Well, obviously, there's the Crystal Heart," Twilight responded. She was then silent. Apparently, anypony who lived in Equestria was supposed to know what that was.

"We aren't exactly familiar," Even told her.

"Not familiar with the Crystal Heart?" Twilight was taken aback. "But EVERYPONY knows about the Crystal Heart! Well, now they do, anyway. A while ago, it was a big mystery, even to the ponies in the Empire! When the ponies of the Empire power the Heart with their positive feelings, it spreads a protective positive aura over all Equestria. It's strong enough to keep the cold of the North out of the Empire, not to mention it can keep out certain varieties of Dark magic."

Mozenrath, Wuya, Mim, and Aghoul exchanged looks. None of them wanted to relive the incident of the Disney Castle barrier.

"Basically, if anything happened to the Crystal Heart," Twilight went on, "Equestria as we know it would be doomed, starting with the Empire itself!"

That was more to the quintet's liking.

"Twilight!" Spike trotted into the room. "C'mon, Twilight! We gotta get going if we're gonna make the train!"

"Sorry to have to close up shop on you so soon," Twilight told the five unicorns. "If you really are going to catch the train to the Empire, we can talk more on the way there."

"That sounds…delightful," Mozenrath replied thoughtfully. If he couldn't find the information on the Empire in a book, he would talk it out of this alicorn as much as he could. "It's always nice to meet someone who shares an interest in magic."

"I know, right?" Twilight said gladly. "I could even give you a little primer about the Elements of Harmony if you want to know what you won't find in that book."

"I'd like that," Mozenrath said gratefully.

He was briefly interrupted by Ayam Aghoul nudging his shoulder. When Mozenrath turned to look at Aghoul, he found the undead unicorn raising and lowering his eyebrows at him suggestively. Mozenrath wasn't sure what Aghoul was implying, but he didn't like it.

"Let's go!" Twilight suggested, and the entire group moved out of the library, books and all.

"So tell me more about the Empire," Mozenrath demanded of Twilight.

"Well," Twilight began, "over a thousand years ago, the Empire lived in peace, ruled over by the Crystal Princess. Then an evil unicorn named King Sombra invaded and…"

...

Papyrus, Ruby, and Sora nearly broke down the door of the police station as they rushed toward it. "I can't believe we actually landed on the same world as HIM!" Ruby emphasized.

"Well, now we're finally going to get some answers about the crowd he's running with, and what they're doing!" Sora stated.

However, they were greeted with the sight of a crowd of officers, an empty cell, yellow police tape, and no Torchwick. "STRANGE," Papyrus commented. "I COULD HAVE SWORN THIS IS WHERE HE WOULD HAVE BEEN TAKEN! PERHAPS HE WAS BROUGHT TO ANOTHER PRISON? WELL, ONLY ONE WAY TO FIND OUT!" The skeleton strode forward until he was adjacent to a pair of conversing officers. "EXCUSE ME! WE ARE HERE TO SEE THE VILLAIN I APPREHENDED YESTERDAY!"

"Augh…" The younger of the two officers was the one who had been on duty the night of Roman's not-so-flawless escape. "This is just never going to END, is it?"

"The guy flew the coop," the older officer informed the trio. "Somehow, he managed to dislodge the bulletproof glass from the window."

"I know I was supposed to be on watch," the younger officer moaned, "but it wasn't my fault! I was trying to apprehend a vandal! The same vandal who wrote THAT!" He pointed to the rude message on the wall.

"OH MY," Papyrus commented. "THAT IS NOT VERY NICE AT ALL!"

"Hmm…" Ruby was beginning to form a suspicion. "What did this vandal look like?"

"The vandal?" the young officer repeated.

"You hard of hearing?" the older officer teased. "That's exactly what she said!"

"She was…sixteen? Or maybe older. Could've been twenty, actually," the young officer mused.

"That's a pretty big gap," the older officer commented.

"I really couldn't tell!" the young officer protested. "She had long black hair in pigtails and bright green eyes. She was white, but she had a bit of a tan. She was short and thin. And she was dressed like a goth."

Sora, Ruby, and Papyrus all knew it was wise not to let on how much they knew, exactly, about Roman and his possible cohorts. Papyrus had taken the news of other worlds well, but he'd let his new friends in on the fact that others in town, with a few exceptions, wouldn't. "WELL, I AM SORRY TO HEAR YOU LOST HIM," Papyrus told the officers. "BUT NEVER FEAR! WE WILL MAKE SURE HIS EVIL DOES NOT ROAM THE STREETS FOR LONG! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL TAKE IT UPON MYSELF TO RETURN HIM TO YOUR CUSTODY!"

"Y'know, you're a real treasure around this town, Papyrus," the older officer told the skeleton. "You just be careful out there, okay? And don't worry too much about this. Worst comes to worst, we got this under control." She glanced into the cell. "But first thing, we're securing that window."

"THANK YOU FOR ALL OF YOUR HELP!" Papyrus said as he, Sora, and Ruby strode out of the station.

As soon as they were out of earshot of the police, Ruby sighed, "Well, I shouldn't be surprised. Roman's escaped from higher security than this. Especially if Neo was helping him."

"WHO IS NEO?" Papyrus asked.

"Roman's henchman," Ruby replied. "Well, hench-woman. She has this semblance that…well, I don't really understand how it works, but she can make you think you're seeing something that isn't actually there. She can change her clothes and how she looks with it. I'm wondering if she might be the person who spray-painted the wall. If anyone would want to cause a distraction to break Torchwick out of jail, it would be her."

"So what do we do now?" Sora asked.

There was a silence as the trio tried to come up with a new plan to figure out Roman's whereabouts. That silence was immediately broken by the sound of a frenetically activated bicycle bell; Sora, Ruby, and Papyrus halted in unison and backpedaled hastily to get out of the way of a speeding bike careening down the sidewalk.

The bike's rider swerved around at the end of the path, making a slower course back toward the trio as they called out, "SORRY! Sorry!" They halted the bike in front of Sora, Ruby, and Papyrus, and all could now see the rider was a child with dark hair, clad in a blue sweater with purple stripes. "I didn't mean to almost run you over!" they apologized.

"ALL IS FORGIVEN, FRIEND!" Papyrus replied enthusiastically. He then gasped: "OH MY GOD! THIS IS A PERFECT OPPORTUNITY TO INTRODUCE MY OLD FRIEND TO MY NEW FRIENDS!" He turned to stand next to and gesture dramatically toward the rider of the now stationary bike. "SORA AND RUBY, THIS IS FRISK! ONE OF MY BEST FRIENDS!" He turned to Frisk; "FRISK, THIS IS SORA AND RUBY! THEY ARE NEW FRIENDS I MADE JUST TODAY!"

Frisk hopped off their bike, putting down the kickstand so they could address the new duo. "Hi!" they said joyfully, waving.

"Nice to meet ya!" Sora bent down just far enough so that Frisk could easily shake his extended hand, which they proceeded to do.

"SORA AND RUBY ARE NEW IN TOWN, AND SO I WAS GOING TO SHOW THEM AROUND," Papyrus explained. "BUT IT TURNS OUT THEY KNOW THAT FIEND I STOPPED FROM ROBBING THE GAS STATION YESTERDAY! SO WE WENT TO FIND HIM AND DEMAND SOME ANSWERS, BUT IT TURNS OUT HE ESCAPED!"

"Uhhhh…Papyrus?" Ruby's eyes flicked from Papyrus to Frisk and back. "Are you sure we should be talking about that…?"

"OF COURSE!" Papyrus insisted. "IF YOU CANNOT TRUST FRISK, YOU CANNOT TRUST ANYONE!"

"Trust me with what?" Frisk asked.

"THAT ROBBER CAME HERE FROM ANOTHER WORLD!" Papyrus announced. "AND SO DID SORA AND RUBY!"

"Really?" Frisk's face lit up at the prospect.

"Really," Sora confirmed with a smile.

Frisk's eyes sparkled. "COOL!" After some thought, they asked, "So what are you going to do now?"

"Try and find Torchwick, I guess," Ruby answered.

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHERE WE SHOULD LOOK FOR HIM?" Papyrus asked Frisk.

Frisk thought it over. "Hmmm. Well…maybe we should ask around! If there's a bad guy on the loose, Undyne would probably know something! We could check with Toriel, too. And maybe Mettaton could put the word out on his radio show that we're looking for someone!"

"THOSE ARE ALL GREAT IDEAS!" Papyrus affirmed. "IN FACT, I WAS JUST ABOUT TO COME UP WITH ALL OF THEM!"

"Sure you were," Frisk laughed.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Ruby asked. "Let's go, let's go, let's go!"

"ONWARD TO UNDYNE!" Papyrus pointed dramatically in the direction of his fishy friend's house.

Frisk turned their bike to steer in that direction, and they led the charge.

...

For Yzma, the Huntsman, Roman, Snatcher, and Neo, figuring out more information about the children in Toriel's photographs was a small feat. Some of the newspapers they'd stolen had articles about missing children who matched the description of the ones in the photographs. In the end, one child stood out: a little girl named Oona Finn.

"Were she alive to this day," Snatcher pointed out, "Miss Finn would be around the age of Torchwick. Or, should I say, Miss Incandescent."

"I like where this is going," Roman responded.

"Say, for example, a concerned aunt and a childhood friend of Miss Finn's were to travel into the city and speak to local law enforcement about the monsters that had just come aboveground here," Snatcher went on. "If they made a compelling enough case, that might give said law enforcement probable cause to search His Majesty's home for our souls. A VERY compelling case ending with proof of His Majesty's wrongdoing might just turn a great many people against the monster population in general."

"I REALLY like where this is going!" Roman affirmed.

"So the two of you are going to New Vulpine in drag to cozy up to the police," Yzma deciphered.

"That is EXACTLY what we're to do," Snatcher confirmed.

"And how do you plan to get there?" the Huntsman asked.

Roman shrugged. "We'll steal a car."

"Do you even know how to drive?" the Huntsman asked skeptically.

"Do we know how to drive?" Roman repeated. "It can't be THAT different from an airship."

At about the same time, Snatcher said, "It can't be THAT different from Trubshaw's contraption."

"I think you'll find it can," the Huntsman groaned. "You'll either have to rely on public transport, or I will take you downtown in whatever car you acquire."

"We're not going to have you chauffeur us around," Roman insisted. "We can handle this."

"Suit yourself," the Huntsman told him. "And I hope you won't mind if we come up with a contingency plan for when the two of you die horribly in a traffic accident."

"Geez, thanks for the support," Roman groaned. "Trust me. Archie and I can handle the car thing just fine."

"In fact," Snatcher suggested, "I've an idea of where we may acquire one."

...

At the edge of Knightdock, located in such a way that if you drew lines that connected it to Mt. Ebott and the beach on a map of the town, it would form an almost equilateral triangle, there was a bluff that offered a majestic view of the forests and rolling plains on the opposite side of town from New Vulpine. As such, it was a popular location for sightseeing, especially for families and romantic couples.

One such couple parked their car on the road just across from the bluff, getting out to walk the short wooded trail to the sightseeing locale. "You've seriously never seen this before?" one half of the set, a human male, asked with a big smile upon his face.

His girlfriend, a scaly monster, shook her head. "Ever since we got out of the mountain, I've just stayed in town."

"You're gonna LOVE the view," the human male promised, and they fell into step alongside each other, their hands clasping at each other in a tight knot.

Their date was unfortunately cut short when Roman, who'd been biding his time behind a nearby tree, crept up behind them and forced a pair of rags over their faces. The couple, horrified, had barely enough time to register that the substance the rags had been soaked in wasn't making him sleepy at all and didn't smell like anything at all before it kicked in. Roman had, in fact, coated both rags with a potion of Yzma's making, and the young couple soon found themselves transformed into small white mice, which Roman scooped into a glass jar with a single hole for air punctured in the lid. "You know," Roman taunted as he shook the jar, "I was just going to squish you two, but feeding you to Xerxes is going to be a lot more fun. Do eels even eat mice? I have no idea. But he'll eat sushi, so his bar's pretty low."

Pocketing the jar, Roman turned back to the car. Though the couple's clothing had miraculously disappeared in the transformation, a phenomenon unexplained to this day, the car keys rested in the dirt next to where they'd been assaulted. Taking the keyring into his hand and twirling it around his little finger, Roman turned to look back at the thick forestation, announcing, "You can come out now."

As it was, Roman was on his own version of a date. "All witnesses have been removed from the premises?" Snatcher asked as he stepped into view.

Roman produced the jar of mice, shaking it up again. Snatcher gave this a nod of approval. "Besides," Roman reminded him, "everyone in town mostly knows you as Frou Frou anyway."

The partners in crime turned their attention to the car. "It really can't be THAT different from an airship," Roman asserted one more time. "Yeah. I got this."

Snatcher wasn't about to argue. Roman unlocked the car, and as he slid into the driver's seat, Snatcher took over the front passenger spot. "Now, let's see…" Roman looked the mechanism of the dashboard over. "Ignition key goes here, steering controls are here, and this pedal should – "

No sooner had he gotten the car started than he'd zoomed it forward until it smacked into a small tree, crumpling the hood.

"Perhaps I should take over," Snatcher suggested.

"What, you think you can do better than me?" Roman groaned. "This was a fluke!"

"Think of it as a chance to relax, Torchwick. You did the work of vehicle acquisition, and now I get to do the heavy lifting, so to speak."

"Fine." Roman threw open the car door. "You wanna give it a shot, you can give it a shot."

He and Snatcher swapped places. "Now then," Snatcher began, looking over the car's controls. "Where you've gone wrong was in the operation of the levers. Even to the untrained eye, it's obvious that this lever should be set in THIS position – "

The car shot backward until it collided with another tree from the other end.

After a moment of silence, Roman announced, "We're starting over with another car? We're starting over with another car."

Another young couple, another dose of mouse transformation potion, and another theft later, Roman was back in the driver's seat, taking the whole operation a lot more slowly to start out. "Okay," he sighed. "Think I finally got the hang of this thing. Not that I didn't before!"

"I'm aware, Torchwick. I'm aware."

"You can have another shot with it when there's less stuff around to crash into," Roman promised.

"I'm not going to dignify that with a response," Snatcher huffed. He then noticed a short figure in the middle of the road. "Torchwick, there's someone – "

"I see him." Roman grinned. "I bet he's expecting me to slow down, isn't he?"

"And what are YOU expecting to do?" Snatcher asked, already smirking due to the answer he knew was coming.

"Eliminate the last witness," Roman stated. He depressed the gas pedal just that much more.

The car sped toward the figure in the road at top speed, but just as it would have collided, whoever was there suddenly wasn't anymore. "Did I just…?" Roman wondered out loud. "Or did he vanish?"

"hey," a deep voice greeted from the back seat.

Cursing loudly, Roman, startled, slammed on the brake pedal; he and Snatcher were nearly thrown forward over the dashboard. The pair swiveled in their seats as soon as their balance was settled so they could see who had invaded their car and, more importantly, try and figure out how he'd done it.

Had it been Yzma and the Huntsman who'd gone to secure a car, they might have recognized Sans, the lazy skeleton from the newspaper office. As it was, Roman and Snatcher had no idea who or what they were looking at. "look," Sans told them. "i'm not gonna rat you guys out or anything because i have no idea how far you're gonna get. at this point, i don't have to care. but if you keep going the way you're going, picking up all twelve of those things and all, well, that's something i can't really let happen. so consider this your warning to bail before it's too late. because if you keep this up, you're gonna be in for a bad time."

He was gone as suddenly as he'd appeared.

"WHAT…THE…HELL!" Roman shrieked.

"HOW DID HE KNOW ANY OF THAT?" Snatcher roared.

"And WHERE did he go?" Roman added.

They paused and waited, as though expecting Sans to come back or drop off some hint as to where he'd gone. They found nothing of the sort, though had Roman checked his pockets then, he would have noticed that the mice had disappeared.

"…Do you think we can take him at his word?" Snatcher asked after a while.

"I think we have to," Roman replied. "I have no idea where to even START tracking him down to kill him."

"What d'you suppose he meant, that we'd be in for a bad time?"

"That's not self-explanatory?"

"Yes, Torchwick, but how so?"

"How much could a skeleton really do to US?" Roman posed.

"We've at least got to let the others know he's a potential threat to our plan," Snatcher decided.

"Yeah, yeah," Roman agreed. "How did he even get in the car?"

"Presumably with magic," Snatcher suggested. "We don't have time to dwell on it. We should return to base and carry out the plan as we formed it."

"Yeah," Roman said absently, still obviously concerned about the sudden appearance and disappearance of Sans. When it finally sank in there was nothing more he could do, both he and Snatcher turned back toward the road ahead and took the car on a course back to Mt. Ebott.

...

"…And that's how the Crystal Empire was chosen to be the host of the Equestria Games! Aaaaaand that would be the train station. Sorry. I didn't mean to talk so much the whole way." Twilight looked apologetically to Mozenrath.

"Don't apologize," Mozenrath replied with a smirk. "That was all very informative." He'd learned a lot. Turned out Discord had given him a good tip after all. The Crystal Heart might have been the most powerful magical device in all Equestria after the Elements of Harmony themselves, and if it were put in danger, not only would the Empire threaten to freeze over, but the rest of Equestria would suffer from the lack of the Heart's aura. In short, if the Heart were put in danger, that might just be the push a new group of heroes needed to retrieve the Elements of Harmony. The plan was nowhere near completely formulated in Mozenrath's mind – he still had to figure out how exactly to lead Grimhilde and Cruella to the Heart, and who in the immediate vicinity would be naïve enough to take the Elements back out to play with – but at least a major piece of it had fallen into place.

"Maybe we can talk more when we get to the Empire," Twilight suggested. "It is always nice to get to talk to somepony who's interested in magic. I should go meet up with my friends now. It was really nice meeting you, um…what was your name again?"

"Mozenrath," the sorcerer replied before Wuya stamped on his foot hard. Too late, he realized he probably should have used an assumed name. It wasn't as though it mattered much, he realized. He'd never been to this world before, he didn't plan to stay long, and if the plan was to go swimmingly, he did eventually want Grimhilde and Cruella to figure out where he was so they could cause enough trouble.

"That's an…unusual one," Twilight commented. "I like it. I'm Twilight Sparkle. Though you might have already known that. Then again, you didn't know about the Elements or the Crystal Heart, so maybe you didn't. Aaaand I'm rambling again. I should just…yeah." She turned to move toward a larger group of ponies: five Twilight's age and three fillies. As Spike followed, Twilight gave a wave with her hoof directed back at the quintet of unicorns, then turned and galloped full speed toward her companions.

Mozenrath caught himself waving in return. "I knew you'd have a thing for her," Aghoul commented.

"I do not have a THING for her," Mozenrath growled. "She's just a useful source of information."

"Sure she is," Aghoul teased. "An attractive one, too. And one who's interested in the same things as you."

"Except for world conquest," Mozenrath said dryly.

"I don't even understand how the two of you are attracted to PONIES," Wuya hissed.

"I AM NOT ATTRACTED TO ANYPONY HERE," Mozenrath seethed.

"It's really a common phenomenon that occurs with shapeshifting," Even pointed out. "There is a magical increase in the proclivity to be attracted to the same species as the species of the form you currently inhabit."

"FOR THE LAST TIME, I AM NOT – "

"Well, I haven't found any of the stallions OR mares here particularly eye-catching," Wuya interrupted Mozenrath. "Have you, Mim?"

"No," Mim growled. "They're all too happy and brightly colored! Show me where the REAL bad boys are already!"

"I'm going to read," Mozenrath announced, flipping his book open in midair. "And if any of you tries to interrupt me, I WILL make good on my promise from earlier." He trotted onboard one of the cars of the train, book flying in front of him at eye level.

"Someone's in denial," Aghoul muttered as Wuya, Mim, and Even trailed behind.

The train whistled to life, and when all its passengers were aboard, it chugged out of the station, making a fast clip north. Settled in a car that was occupied only by him and his four cohorts, Mozenrath curled up on the nearest seat, book floating nearby. Mim, Wuya, Aghoul, and Even were making idle chatter about something or another, but Mozenrath tuned them out completely, focusing on the book. The Elements of Harmony, it said, were a powerful magic that was used to defeat evils such as the prophesied Nightmare Moon. As Discord had said, five of them were confirmed to be Laughter, Kindness, Honesty, Loyalty, and Generosity. As Twilight had said, the sixth was stated by the book to be a mystery. Mozenrath wondered if it was safe to assume the sixth was pure magic. If that were the case, it would have to tap into a great source of aether.

As Mozenrath reached the end of the passage, he was aware of Aghoul standing very close to them. "All I'm saying is that you wouldn't let any of US get away with rambling on that long before you complained or set one of us on fire," the undead unicorn pointed out.

He then found himself out of witty comments, as the end of his beard had been set aflame. Even quickly iced it, and Aghoul escaped unscathed, but his beard as a whole did not survive. "Now I've got to start growing that all over again!" he complained.

"You were warned," Mozenrath reminded him.

"But he has a point," Mim observed. "Why were you so invested in what SHE had to say all the way here?"

"Because it was important to what we were looking for," Mozenrath replied. "How hard is this for you to understand?"

"Not very," Wuya told him. "But going this route is a lot more fun."

"You're a scientist, Even," Aghoul prompted. "What do you think their children would look like?"

"I refuse to take part in this childishness," Even grunted.

"At least someone in this train car has sense," Mozenrath muttered.

"Look at it this way," Wuya told Mozenrath. "If the world conquest business doesn't pan out, you could have a pretty comfortable life, marrying a princess like that."

"I DON'T NEED TO MARRY A PRINCESS!" Mozenrath's hooves hit the floor. "I ALREADY AM THE LORD OF MY OWN EMPIRE!"

"All the more proof that you two are a royal match!" Mim laughed.

"I don't have to put up with this," Mozenrath growled, turning toward the door that connected the adjoining cars.

"You miss her already?" Aghoul joked, making to follow Mozenrath. He found himself surrounded by a ring of blue flame. This time, Even seriously considered not putting it out.

The display of fire served as a sufficient warning, and when Mozenrath stepped into the next car, he wasn't followed. As the door closed behind him, he let out a sigh of relief…before realizing this car was even louder than the last one.

To one side, a trio of fillies – one orange pegasus, one white unicorn, and one yellow earth pony – was working on a complex diagram with seemingly random symbols drawn on it: a crystal, a stack of books, a bobsled ("Maybe we can get our Cutie Marks in somethin' you can only do in the Crystal Empire!"). To the opposite side, a blue pegasus with a conspicuously rainbow mane was playing a board game (Wuya would have identified it as a variant of Battleship from her Jack Spicer years) against a tan earth pony with a blonde mane and a cowboy hat ("Gol dangit, Rainbow, that was my last cloud!" "I WIN!"). A white unicorn, one who looked to be related to the smaller one, was gushing over a sketchbook while Spike looked on, practically drooling ("OOH, yes! I do believe I've got it! This would be the PERFECT gown to wear to the next Gala! Don't you think so, Spikey-Wikey?"). A yellow pegasus, one that Mozenrath recognized from the Everfree Forest, paced nervously back and forth ("I do hope Angel has enough carrots. I gave him enough for five days, and we'll only be gone for two, but what if there's a snowstorm and we're stuck in the Empire for seven?"). And, most offensive of all, a pink pony with a curly mane and tail was doing a dance on her hind hooves while playing a trombone, an accordion, and an enormous drum all at the same time with her front hooves, right in the middle of the car. The only living being not making any noise whatsoever was Twilight Sparkle, who was curled up on a seat, reading one of her many, many books. Regardless of the teasing Mozenrath knew it would earn him if Aghoul saw him, he knew there was only one logical choice.

He approached Twilight confidently. "Is this seat taken?"

Twilight's head jerked up from the book; she was surprised to see who was addressing her. "Oh. No, it's not."

As Mozenrath got up into the adjacent seat, he observed, "You're not taking part in the…festivities."

Twilight gave a little shrug. "I just wanted to read. Did you finish that book already?"  
"I think I got the gist about the Elements," Mozenrath answered.

"Well, that's not nearly all there is to know about them," Twilight informed him. "You know, I actually wielded the Element of Magic for a long time."

"Really?" So the sixth was Magic after all.

"Really," Twilight affirmed. "My friends and I used all six to defeat all kinds of evil, from Nightmare Moon to Discord."

"And where are these friends of yours?" Mozenrath asked, curious.

Twilight swept her hoof in an outward gesture to the rest of the car. "You're looking at 'em."

"…Them," Mozenrath reiterated in disbelief, looking from the paranoid pacer to the sore winner to the one-mare band.

"That was my reaction when I first met them all, too," Twilight nearly laughed.

"You're telling me that all eight of THOSE ponies and that dragon were in charge of one of the most magical powers in all Equestria."

"Not all of them," Twilight corrected. "See those three?" She pointed to the trio of fillies. "They're kind of the 'little sisters' of our group. Apple Bloom is Applejack's sister, Sweetie Belle is Rarity's, and Scootaloo might as well be Rainbow Dash's. None of them have their Cutie Marks yet, so they keep trying to come up with schemes to get them. And their plans can get craaaaa-zy."

"Do they now," Mozenrath replied as another piece fell into place.

"But anyway," Twilight went on, "the actual wielders of the Elements were me, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Fluttershy, and Applejack. We were in charge of using them to protect Equestria up until the beginning of this year."

"And what happened this year that stopped you?" Mozenrath asked.

"Our enemy…well…our friend? We have kind of a complicated history with somepony named Discord."

The name already sent Mozenrath's mind rushing back to the enigmatic draconequus.

"We defeated him with the Elements once before," Twilight went on. "And then we saved him with them. It turned out that a thousand years ago, he planted dangerous Plunderseeds beneath Equestria's surface, and the only thing that kept them from turning into plants that would destroy the entire world was the Tree of Harmony. The longer the Tree went without the Elements, the weaker it became until it couldn't hold the Plunderseeds back anymore. The plants sprouted and threatened to take over, so we had to give the Elements back to the Tree."

"So Discord figured out how to get rid of the only power that could defeat him a thousand years in advance," Mozenrath deduced.

"Exactly," Twilight confirmed. "Like I told you, our relationship with him is complicated. Part of me wonders if he's planning something awful that will cause chaos all across Equestria right now." She shook her head. "But I guess I can't spend all day worrying about that, now, can I?"

"Technically, you could," Mozenrath told her. "I'm just not sure you'd want to."

Somehow they fell into conversation again, Mozenrath asking for more particulars on the Elements and Twilight relating her adventures with them. All the while, the train rolled steadily north. The climate became chilly, with howling winds that carried flurries of snow into drifts on the ground. Out the window, all appeared to be white, though in a shifting way that reminded Mozenrath of the sands of the deserts he had once called home.

High above the train, one patch of clouds grew darker than the rest. Set against the gray-black background like a jewel, a harpy carried a Diamond Dog through the chilly skies.

"There, Grimmie!" Cruella insisted, pointing down at the train. "I can smell the stink of Darkness coming off that car! And who would have thought being a dog would actually come with something useful?"

"Only a Diamond Dog's nose is that sharp!" Grimhilde cackled. "Now, go make that a runaway train! Just don't forget to jump before it's too late!"

"But of course, darling!" Cruella assured Grimhilde.

The harpy made a dive for the locomotive unit of the train, and both she and Cruella had themselves a cringe at its bright pink hue and saccharine heart-shaped window. Grimhilde let go of her charge at the crucial moment, pulling up out of the dive as Cruella bashed her way through the door of the locomotive.

The engineer spun to see the intruder. "Hey!" he cried. "I don't remember you getting on this – "

Cruella quickly reached out, hoisted him above her head, and chucked him out the door into the snow, where he was quickly left behind. Cruella turned her attention to the train's controls. It was no car, but it was still easy enough to figure out how to make go fast. And she needed it to head forward as speedily as possible.

Meanwhile, the clouds around Grimhilde grew ever darker, fueled by her magic. Thunder boomed and lightning flashed. Hail rained down to pepper the roof of the train.

"Wow," Twilight remarked. "Sounds like we're in some bad weather."

"I don't know about you," Mozenrath told her, "but I sometimes like getting to listen to a particularly loud storm." He almost kicked himself for saying that. That was far too casual.

"Storms just worry me," Twilight replied, "because they remind me of all the things that could go – "

The train lurched forward into a new gear of speed, nearly throwing all its passengers against the back walls of their cars.

"What's going ON?" Twilight wailed.

Mozenrath had a suspicion that was about to be proven right.

Grimhilde surveyed the scene before her. The train was on a direct course for a somewhat rickety bridge over a deep ravine. The storm extended out over that bridge, winds and hails and bolts of lightning tearing at it until it went down in a tumble of planks and girders. There was now nothing to prevent the train from plunging to the rocks below. It was a failsafe if the abduction didn't work, but more importantly, Grimhilde just wanted to see an entire train full of ponies go down in flames.

She turned her attention to the car Cruella had specified the stink of Darkness coming from. Giving a birdlike scream, the harpy dove, claws extended. Her talons sank into the metal roof, and she pulled it back like the lid of a tin of sardines.

By then, all of the passengers inside that particular car were astir. Fluttershy (the yellow pegasus) had hidden beneath one of the seats. Pinkie Pie (the pink one) was running circles, screaming, "DON'T PANIC! DON'T PANIC! DON'T PANIC!" Applejack (the tan earth pony) had rushed to the trio of fillies to ensure their welfare. When the roof came off the car, letting in a rush of bitter wind, Rarity (the older of the white unicorns) let out a piercing scream of terror.

"DON'T BE AFRAID!" Grimhilde cackled. "IT'S NOT YOU I WANT, LITTLE PRETTIES!" She let out a long bout of laughter before extending a single wing at Mozenrath: "IT'S HIM!"

"NO WAY!" Rainbow Dash (the blue pegasus) leapt out into the center of the car, glaring up at Grimhilde, as Applejack quickly escorted Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, and Spike into the next car back. "If you think you can just barge in here and kidnap somepony on MY watch, think again!"

Mozenrath skidded out next to her, horn blazing with blue magic. He let off one, two, three bolts at Grimhilde; she deflected them all with a shield that surrounded her wings. Catching Mozenrath off guard, she dove for him, sinking her talons into his back and carrying him high up into the air.

"MOZENRATH!" Twilight cried, her eyes fixed on Grimhilde as she became a smaller and smaller dot in the distance. Mozenrath kept on trying to overpower her with magic, but she shielded against everything he threw at her, and he was reduced to squirming in her grasp.

"C'mon, Twilight!" Rainbow Dash urged. "Let's go get your friend back!"

Alicorn and pegasus exchanged nods, and they both took off into the sky, after the harpy and her prey.

"But what about the train?" Rarity cried. "Somepony has to figure out why it's going so fast!"

"You're right!" Pinkie Pie realized, skidding to a halt so hard that the multiple musical instruments she'd been carrying tumbled to the floor. "We gotta slow this train down! Now COME ON!"

"I'll…make sure this car is safe," Fluttershy squeaked from her hiding place beneath the seat.

"You stay there, dear," Rarity advised. "We'll put a stop to this!"

As Rarity and Pinkie Pie made for the door to the car ahead, it opened, and Mim, Aghoul, Wuya, and Even spilled out into their car. "WHAT is the meaning of all this?" Even barked.

"Somepony's taken control of the train and is making it go out of control!" Rarity explained in a panic.

"I told you it wasn't supposed to go this fast," Wuya sighed.

"But we were having so much fun!" Mim pouted.

"And somepony else just ripped off the roof of the train and swiped a unicorn right out of the car!" Pinkie Pie added. "I think it was a harpy! Though it might not have been. I've never met a harpy before. I think they live in – "

"WHAT unicorn did this harpy kidnap?" Even interrupted. "And WHERE did they go?"

"Thataway!" Pinkie gestured upward with a hoof.

"Twilight called him a rather unusual name," Rarity added. "I think it was…Mossrot? Or was it Amazing Rat?"

"MOZENRATH!" Mim, Aghoul, Wuya, and Even said as one. The same thought of horror crossed all their minds: they'd been found, and much earlier than they had wanted to be found.

"Stand back!" Mim declared. "I'm going after him!" She galloped past Rarity and Pinkie Pie, morphing into a falcon as she went and charting a course straight upward.

"Wow!" Pinkie remarked. "I've never seen magic like that before! Have YOU ever seen somepony turn into a bird – "

"No time!" Rarity dragged Pinkie into the next car, leading her along on a beeline to the locomotive. After a moment's deliberation, Even followed.

"What now?" Aghoul asked Wuya, growing concerned.

Wuya fixed her eyes upon the sky. She could make out dark shapes wriggling through the clouds to crowd around the more brightly colored ones. "I have a thought," she told Aghoul.

Mozenrath quickly learned to stop trying to throw magic at Grimhilde while she had him in her talons. After she repelled one particularly strong burst, the radiation of it washed right back over Mozenrath, putting him in a world of hurt until the spell's effects had passed. "So what are you planning to do to me?" Mozenrath asked. "Drop me from a dizzying height? We both know that won't kill me."

"I was thinking of being just a little bit more CREATIVE!" Grimhilde squawked. "Perhaps a strike of lightning to the heart! Or a whirlwind to blow you away! Or maybe I'll just take you up so high, you'll freeze to death and suffocate!"

"And so will you," Mozenrath reminded her. "Not the best course of action in the long run."

"You underestimate just how much more powerful my magic is than yours, Mozenrath," Grimhilde taunted. "I'd have thought you'd get the picture after all this trying to shoot me!"

Mozenrath gritted his teeth, knowing he was temporarily stymied.

As Twilight and Rainbow Dash sped upward, keeping the harpy in their sights, they were suddenly aware of other creatures filling their peripheral vision: creatures beckoned by Grimhilde to come to her aid. A throng of the Heartless known as Air Soldiers took wing and dove down toward Rainbow Dash and Twilight.

"What ARE those things?" Rainbow Dash cried.

"I don't know!" Twilight called back. "But they're heading right for us!"

Rainbow Dash twisted into a kick, slamming into one of the Air Soldiers' chests. As another one scratched at Twilight's chest, just enough to draw a bit of red, Twilight blasted it with a beam from her horn; it dissipated into dark wisps of smoke, with the silhouette of a bright red heart faintly visible.

"They're some kind of constructs of Dark magic!" Twilight called over to Rainbow Dash. "I'm not sure, but…I think they're fueled by ponies' hearts!" She quickly whirled to meet another one, blasting it into temporary oblivion as well, but it had only served as a diversion while another Air Soldier grabbed at her wings, yanking out several feathers.

"TWILIGHT!" Rainbow Dash cried, turning to speed to her friend's assistance; she found herself circled by a crowd of Air Soldiers, charging and scraping at her long enough to keep her occupied.

Not too far away, Mim wasn't having an easy time herself. The Air Soldiers had also caught wind of her presence, and she bobbed and weaved, trying to evade them all on her way to Grimhilde. One quick turn became foul when she collided directly with an Air Soldier that knocked her several yards back down.

"When do WE get to control a horde of nightmare creatures of Darkness?" Mim muttered before gearing up to make the charge again.

There was a sudden explosion in the sky, and ten Air Soldiers dissipated at once, leaving Twilight free to kick and blast away the three that remained around her. Another bright blast of orange cleared the Air Soldiers from around Rainbow Dash. "What's going on?" Rainbow Dash wondered out loud, twisting to look back down at the train.

Down below, Wuya and Aghoul had built a team-effort catapult. Aghoul positioned his scythe upside-down, loading a skull bomb onto it, and Wuya used her magic to spin the scythe and launch the bomb high. The resulting explosions cleared out great quantities of Air Soldiers.

"Just be careful not to hit anything that's not a Heartless!" Aghoul warned.

"Why do I care about the ponies?" Wuya hissed quietly, noting Fluttershy's hiding place and not caring to be overheard.

"I don't either," Aghoul whispered back, "but can you tell which one of those things up there is Mozenrath? If he goes kaboom, we're in for it big time!"

Wuya had to admit that Aghoul was right. "Hit me again."

Aghoul planted another bomb, and Wuya launched it into another cloud of Air Soldiers.

Pinkie Pie and Rarity raced from car to car until they burst into the locomotive. "HEY!" Pinkie screeched, extending a hoof to Cruella. "YOU'RE NOT THE ENGINEER!"

"I am now, darlings!" Cruella laughed. "Brilliant timing, by the way. You're just in time to take part in my latest design!"

"I get the feeling you're not talking about fashion design," Rarity shot back.

"Oh, of course I am," Cruella clarified. "Starting with a lovely white scarf with a triple-diamond emblem!"

"Wait," Rarity realized. "You're talking about ME, aren't you?"

Cruella surged toward Rarity, hoisting the unicorn above her head. But stretching her arms up above her head only opened her up to attack: Pinkie Pie produced a confetti cannon from thin air and fired it directly into Cruella's side. Cruella stumbled, dropping Rarity, who scrambled to her feet. Cruella, angered not only at having been stymied but it having been done in such a ridiculous manner, lunged for Pinkie Pie, her arms wrapping around the pink pony's throat. Rarity whirled, kicking Cruella hard and knocking her off balance long enough for Pinkie to twist away.

When Even entered the locomotive, the sight of a black and white Diamond Dog fighting off the pair of mares greeted him. It didn't take him long to make the connection to the monochrome-haired woman who'd tried to shoot at him with a sparkly semi-automatic. "YOU!" he barked just as Cruella put Rarity into a headlock..

"Oh, drat, it's YOU!" Cruella knew that once ice magic came into play, she was far outclassed. "Shame, I really can't stay. But enjoy the ride!"

She threw Rarity aside and launched herself out of the locomotive, aiming for the soft snow outside.

"YOU'RE NOT GETTING AWAY THAT EASILY!" Even sent a barrage of icicles after Cruella. Most missed, but one hit home; he heard a distinct canine yelp. As Even leaned out the window to make sure Cruella had actually been left behind and hadn't grabbed onto some part of the train, he called back into the car, "Are you both all right?" He didn't care one bit, but the act had to be kept up.

"I think we're both fine, thank you," Rarity replied.

"BOY, you and your friends have some strong magic!" Pinkie Pie giggled. "So do you just make ice, or can you make snow cones too?"

Even suddenly didn't even feel like keeping up pleasantries for the sake of the charade. Fortunately, he didn't have to. As he looked out the window, he spotted the broken bridge and the plummeting chasm ahead. "Tell me ONE of you can drive a train," he groaned.

"I can sure try!" Pinkie volunteered.

"It will have to do," Even sighed, turning back to look at Pinkie and Rarity. "They've destroyed the bridge ahead. If we don't slow down now, we'll all be on a direct course to an unpleasant death!"

"Oh, NO!" Rarity moaned. "We can't crash! Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, this is the WORST! POSSIBLE! THING!"

"And she really means it this time!" Pinkie added. She then gave a glance over the controls of the train. "Okay, THIS looks like the brake lever!" She grabbed the indicated lever and gave it a hard yank.

The train shifted gears; now it was going even faster.

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!" Even yelled.

"SORRY!" Pinkie pulled another lever, and this time, the whine of the brakes kicked in, and the train attempted to halt. Its high momentum still kept it rolling forward, and it seemed as though it wouldn't stop in time and was still on a course to go over the edge.

"What are we going to DO?" Rarity wailed.

Even leaned back out the window. "I suppose I'll have to do everything for everyone HERE as well," he muttered, his horn tingling with the chill of magic.

Up above, with the way cleared, Mim, Twilight, and Rainbow Dash set a course for Grimhilde. "LET HIM GO RIGHT NOW!" Twilight screamed, small bullet-like projectiles of plasma emitting from her horn.

The magenta energy just ricocheted off Grimhilde in a shower of sparks. "But he said that WOULDN'T kill him!" the harpy cackled.

"Try using your fancy magic to dodge THIS!" Rainbow Dash spun into a kick, flying right at Grimhilde's side. Mim came at the harpy from the other side, building up enough momentum as a falcon to keep flying through the air no matter what; she then took on the form of a hippopotamus. Rainbow Dash hit Grimhilde first, causing her to let go of Mozenrath. Then, when the soaring Mim collided with Grimhilde, she was sent tumbling away into the whipping winds.

As soon as Mozenrath started falling, he was surrounded in a magenta aura that slowed him to a float. Twilight glid next to him, her horn glowing the same color as the protective magic. "Don't worry!" she called out. "I've got you!"

"You don't have to!" Mozenrath yelled back to her. "I can fall on my own!" It didn't come out half as harsh as he'd meant it to sound. Maybe he did appreciate the lengths she'd gone to rescue him after all.

"Are you SURE?" Twilight rebutted. Her eyes then flicked over the landscape surrounding the train, and she beheld the sight of the broken bridge. "Oh NO!"

Grimhilde regained her bearings, casting her gaze about. While her mind was on the unicorn she'd just dropped and how she hadn't finished with him yet, her eyes settled upon Cruella leaping out into the snow. Even's icicles chased her, and one hit home; crimson blood poured out over the white snow. Grimhilde found herself in a quandary then. She could only give her attention to one thing or the other: Mozenrath or Cruella.

She made her choice. Tucking in her wings, she made a nosedive for the fallen Diamond Dog.

"The bridge is out!" Twilight told Mozenrath. "They're going to crash! I have to fix it! Are you sure you can fall on your own?"

"Just let go!" Mozenrath urged her.

The look of concern in her shining eyes was genuine, and it struck Mozenrath in a way that surprised him. Then she withdrew her aura, letting Mozenrath plummet. Mozenrath angled himself so that he fell headfirst; a Corridor of Darkness opened beneath him and deposited him neatly within the train car next to Wuya and Aghoul.

"Oh, good!" Aghoul sighed in relief. "You weren't blown to bits!"

High above, Twilight sped toward the bridge as fast as she could, casting a spell. Her energy hit the chasm at the same time that Even's ice did. Together, the joint magic formed a bridge of solid magenta ice with grooves for the train's wheels carved neatly in; the train rolled out harmlessly onto the ice bridge.

"It seems we are safe," Even sighed. "You may let go of the brake."

"Okie-dokie, Loki!" Pinkie Pie let go of the brake lever, putting her mind to figuring out how to get the train going at a reasonable speed.

As Twilight, Rainbow Dash, and Mim landed back in the car with the open roof, Mim shifted into the form of the unicorn once more.

"I've never SEEN magic like that!" Twilight gushed. "I thought that kind of shapeshifting was impossible!"

"Not for me!" Mim giggled.

Twilight then approached Mozenrath. "You okay?"

"Fine," Mozenrath replied with a grin. "I told you I'd make it."

"I should've known you would," Twilight replied, returning his grin.

Mozenrath became very aware of Wuya, Aghoul, and Mim's eyes on him and Twilight, and he realized he wanted nothing more than to be in the company of Even, who was judgmental, but at least not about what was or wasn't flirtation. "I should go make sure Even didn't get into a shouting match with the driver," he announced.

"I have to stay here and warm up this car," Twilight replied. "Or else the entire train will freeze on the way to the Empire now that we're down a roof." She planted herself on the floor, heat beginning to radiate from her horn and fill up the chamber.

"You do that," Mozenrath said as he took his leave.

All things considered, she was a very nice and intelligent mare. Perhaps if she didn't have such a hero complex, Mozenrath thought, she really would be worth a look in the sense that Aghoul had been hinting at.


	17. Taking the Wheel

17\. Taking the Wheel

The first person that Frisk had thought to interrogate was Undyne, and so they led Sora, Ruby, and Papyrus toward the warrior's house. However, upon arrival, they discovered that no one was home, and there had been large holes blown in the wall of the kitchen. Frisk deduced that Undyne must have been attempting to cook again and had gone somewhere else in order to not deal with the home repairs that inevitably ensued every time she attempted to fix a complex dish.

That led the group to the home of Dr. Alphys, where both Alphys and Undyne were found in the living room, Alphys settled in on the couch and wrapped up in a cozy pink blanket while Undyne stretched her legs out on the floor. They paused their anime marathon in order to receive their guests.

"H-h-how can we help y-you?" Alphys stammered.

"And who're the dorks?" Undyne asked, looking over Sora and Ruby.

"They're new friends," Frisk explained. "And we were hoping you could help us out with an investigation into a crime!"

"DETECTIVE PAPYRUS IS ON THE CASE!" Papyrus announced.

"What do you wanna know?" Undyne asked.

"We're looking for a tall man with orange hair," Ruby explained. "He usually wears a lot of mascara, a white jacket, and a black bowler hat. He carries a cane that functions as a cannon. Papyrus got him arrested yesterday, but he escaped."

"We heard you're a local hero," Sora told Undyne. "In fact…" He turned to look at Alphys. "From what Frisk told us, you're BOTH heroes."

"Oh, I wouldn't c-call myself a hero…" Alphys turned away.

"You kidding?" Undyne scooted up onto the couch. "Wouldn't have made it out of the Underground without you!" She wrapped an arm around Alphys and pulled her close, inciting a blush.

"AWWWW!" Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, and Frisk chimed in unison.

Alphys and Undyne quickly scooted away from each other to resume a slightly more businesslike air. "I h-haven't seen anyone l-like that," Alphys told the quartet of impromptu detectives.

"Me either," Undyne chimed in.

"Though th-there was that s-strange woman on the b-b-beach…" Alphys recalled.

"Oh yeah!" Undyne remembered. "That was a villain who got away if I ever saw one! I swear, when I find her…" She shook her head. "But she's not your guy."

"She might be related," Ruby pointed out. "What did she look like?"

"Human," Undyne described. "Short. Blonde. Pasty skin."

Ruby realized she'd asked the wrong question. "What did she do that was so evil?"

"Held me up with a weapon for ice cream!" Undyne related. "Good thing I was itching for a good fight anyway!"

"And what kind of weapon did she use?" Ruby pressed.

"One of those fancy, frilly little umbrellas," Undyne explained. "Except this one had a sword built into it! It was actually pretty cool."

"More like scary," Alphys muttered.

Ruby's lips pursed. "Neo."

"Who?" Sora asked.

"Roman's sidekick," Ruby reminded him. "The same one I think wrote on the wall of the police station."

"You kn-know about these people?" Alphys asked.

"CAN YOU KEEP A SECRET?" Papyrus asked.

"Of course," Alphys answered.

"Cross my heart and hope to be impaled with a thousand spears," Undyne added.

"THE ORANGE HAIRED MAN WE ARE LOOKING FOR IS RUBY'S VERY OWN ARCHNEMESIS!" Papyrus announced. "BUT YOU CAN'T TELL ANYONE, BECAUSE RUBY CAME HERE FROM ANOTHER WORLD, AND WE'RE TRYING TO KEEP IT SECRET!"

"Papyrus," Undyne replied, "I'm telling you this as a friend. Talking about it that loudly to everyone you meet is NOT going to keep it secret."

"So th-there r-r-really are other worlds?" Alphys' face lit up.

"Yeah!" Sora confirmed. "I'm from a different one, too!"

"I had always w-wondered!" Alphys beamed.

"Maybe we can show you our ship sometime after the investigation's over," Sora suggested. "Thanks for letting us know Neo's been around."

"No problem," Undyne replied. "If you find her, kick her butt, but leave enough for me, okay? I still owe her for taking Alphys' ice cream."

"Will do!" Sora promised.

"Good luck out there!" Alphys told the group as she resumed the episode on the television.

"Thanks," Ruby replied, her eyes flickering over the screen. "Guess now we gottaaaAAAAAAA DID THAT GUY JUST TURN INTO A SCYTHE?" Her face lit up with excitement.

"Yeah," Alphys confirmed. "This is a wh-whole anime about p-p-people that turn into w-weapons."

"THATISSOCOOL!" Ruby screamed.

Undyne and Alphys exchanged a look. "Should we?" Alphys asked.

"Fine by me," Undyne told her. "We'll get plenty of time for the two of us later. But only if YOU want to."

Alphys nodded. "You can all stay and watch some if you want," she suggested.

"PERHAPS JUST ONE EPISODE," Papyrus decided. "THAT SHOULDN'T SLOW THE INVESTIGATION DOWN TOO MUCH."

"YAY!" Ruby squeaked.

Soon, Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, and Frisk were arranged on the floor while Alphys and Undyne shared the pink blanket on the couch. As Alphys started the episode from the beginning, she explained, "There's a little b-bit of b-b-backstory you should know. S-so this is a world wh-where they d-do something d-d-different with souls. There's a s-sp-special school for weapons and th-their m-masters, and they f-fight evil creatures w-with c-corrupted souls…"

...

One episode turned into two, but after that, the investigation was back under way.

"We're going to see Toriel next," Frisk explained. "She was the first monster I ever met. She's my teacher, and sometimes, she can be like a mom."

"SHE'S MUCH BETTER THAN MY BROTHER AT READING BEDTIME STORIES," Papyrus confirmed.

Out front of Toriel's house, Frisk rang the bell, and soon, Toriel arrived. "Why, hello, my child!" she greeted. "And Papyrus! It's good to see you too! Who are your friends?"

"I'm Sora," Sora introduced. "And this is Ruby!"

"We're here on an official investigation!" Frisk announced.

They explained who they were looking for, and Toriel nodded. "I had heard about him and how he was captured," she informed the group. "I had been meaning to congratulate you for that, Papyrus."

"NO CONGRATULATIONS NECESSARY!" Papyrus told her. "KEEPING THE PEACE IS WHAT I DO BEST! THOUGH…IF YOU REALLY WANT TO CONGRATULATE ME, I SHALL NOT STOP YOU."

"You did very well, Papyrus," Toriel said with a smile. The smile faded; "But I didn't know he'd already escaped. I'm afraid I don't know anything else."

"That's okay," Sora told her. "We still have a lot more people to ask."

"By the way, Frisk," Toriel brought up, "a relative of yours visited earlier. She was concerned about you being bullied at school."

"A relative?" A chill ran through Frisk. They couldn't think of a single member of their family who they actually wanted to talk to Toriel about their issues in school, or anything else, for that matter. "Who was it?"

"I didn't catch her name," Toriel admitted. "She was an elderly woman with long eyelashes. She wore a lot of purple."

"I don't have any relatives like that," Frisk said in concern. "I only have one grandma who's still alive, and she hates dressing flashy."

"She wasn't your grandmother," Toriel clarified, her own concern growing. "I believe she said she was a great-aunt."

"I've never met any of my great-aunts," Frisk replied.

"Oh, dear," Toriel muttered. "This is very concerning."

"You think it was Neo?" Sora asked Ruby.

"Might've been," Ruby replied. "But I've never heard Neo talk."

"I don't remember everyone who was with Torchwick all that clearly," Sora admitted. "Maybe she was one of them?"

"Maybe," Ruby agreed. "Something's definitely up." Catching Papyrus taking a quick glance upward to the sky, she clarified, "Figuratively."

"I KNEW THAT!" Papyrus responded hastily. "I WAS JUST SCANNING THE SKIES FOR MORE CLUES."

That brought a smile to Ruby's face.

They thanked Toriel for the tip and moved on.

...

"It's after five o'clock," Frisk determined, "so we'll be able to find Mettaton down at the theater with Napstablook and Shyren. Otherwise, they'd all be at the radio station."

The community theater was slightly more ornate than its surrounding buildings, with a marquee graced by bright lights. This marquee proclaimed "OLIVER! AUDITIONS TONIGHT & TOMORROW – 5-7."

Inside the auditorium, the house had been darkened and the stage illuminated. The center of the spotlight was occupied by a young woman belting out the final notes of a soulful song. When the last high note faded away, she looked expectantly, happily toward the front row.

Three seats near the center were occupied. A humanoid robot with metallic silver skin was flanked by a blob-shaped ghost and a fishy creature with a scaly body. "It was absolutely GORGEOUS!" the robot proclaimed, standing up from his seat. "I'm quite tempted to offer you the part on the spot! There's only one small detail standing in the way. We still haven't worked out whether – "

"I don't think we're going with the plan where you play Fagin, Sikes, Brownlow, Sowerberry, Bumble, and Nancy all at once," the ghost mumbled. The nearby Shyren nodded her approval to the ghost's statement.

"In which case you've got the part!" the robot decided.

"OHMYGOD!" the woman squealed. "Thank you! THANK YOU SO MUCH!"

As she ran from the stage squeaking happily, Frisk's voice broke in: "How are auditions going, Mettaton?"

"DARLING!" The robot spun to pick up Frisk and envelop them in a somewhat uncomfortable embrace. "I'm glad you've stopped by! Auditions are going just swimmingly!" He set Frisk on the ground, looking to Papyrus; "Why, hello, Papyrus! Have you come for another autograph?"

"ACTUALLY, NO," Papyrus answered. "THOUGH, AS LONG AS I AM HERE…"

Mettaton quickly picked up a water bottle – that belonged to Shyren, not him, though Shyren knew better than to complain – signed his name with a flourish, and handed it off to Papyrus.

"OH MY GOD, I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!" Papyrus squealed. "I HAVE METTATON'S AUTOGRAPH! IT WILL LOOK PERFECT NEXT TO THE OTHER NINETY-SEVEN!"

"So you're kind of a big celebrity around here, huh?" Sora asked.

"Indeed I am!" Mettaton confirmed.

"Your voice sounds familiar," Ruby chimed in.

"It should," Mettaton scoffed. "I'm only the most popular radio host in the whole state!"

"That's right!" Sora realized. "You were hosting a show that we listened to on our way here from the city!"

"Have you come to audition for a part?" Mettaton asked. "Due to some casting changes, several parts have suddenly opened up." He fired a look over his shoulder at his associates; "Though the role of Fagin is still reserved."

"We'd love to!" Sora cried, thinking back on his days performing in the Atlantican musical revue. "…But I don't think we have the time. We're actually here on an investigation."

"An investigation?" Mettaton repeated. "Of a crime? Oh, do tell! And don't spare the gory details!"

And so the mission was explained once more, to Mettaton this time. The android thought it over. "I'm afraid I haven't met this Torchwick in person," he admitted, "though I've put out a few news bulletins on his reign of terror. If nothing else, the man does have a fabulous sense of style!"

"Have you seen anyone suspicious at all?" Ruby asked. "A couple of the others we talked to ran into some people we think are working with him."

"This is the theater," Mettaton reminded them, "so of course, everyone I've met has been unquestionably strange. But none I would go so far as to call suspicious." He looked over his shoulder. "Blooky? Shy?"

"Nope," the ghost Napstablook agreed, as Shyren shook her head.

"But we'll be sure to put the word out on the radio as soon as we can that there is a wanted man on the loose," Mettaton promised. "From the Falling Asleep with Shyren Hour to Mornings With Mettaton, not a single program will go by without at least one mention! Right after we promote our musical, of course."

"We wouldn't want it any other way," Frisk said with a smile.

...

The sun was beginning to set by the time the four investigators left the theater. "My parents are probably expecting me back home for dinner," Frisk sighed.

"Well, that should be fun," Sora replied. "You can tell them all about your adventure today!"

"I don't think I'll be doing that," Frisk said somberly. "The less I say about all this, the better."

"Is something wrong?" Ruby asked with concern.

"No," Frisk answered. "Just the usual. They already think it's dangerous enough that I hang out with monsters. I don't need them worrying about me trying to track down criminals, too."

"What?" Sora was taken aback. "Nobody we met today was dangerous!"

"I know," Frisk sighed. "But they still aren't convinced. I don't really wanna talk about it anymore." They put up the kickstand on their bike, setting a foot on a pedal to start out homeward. "I'll see you around later, okay?"  
"Okay!" Sora agreed. "Thanks for showing us around and helping us look for Torchwick!"

"No problem!" Frisk replied with a smile.

"GOOD LUCK, BEST FRIEND!" Papyrus offered.

"Thanks, Papyrus." Frisk's smile grew even larger before they took off rolling.

"I WORRY ABOUT THEM, SOMETIMES," Papyrus admitted. "BUT I THINK SOMEDAY, IF I COULD HAVE DINNER WITH FRISK'S FAMILY, THEY WOULD SEE THAT MONSTERS ARE NOT ALL BAD, AND SOME OF THEM ARE EVEN AMAZING LIKE ME! THEN THE WHOLE MISUNDERSTANDING WOULD BE CLEARED UP!"

"I'm not sure it's that simple," Ruby told him. "Where I'm from, I know there are some people that could meet dozens of Faunus and STILL think they're just…animals."

"WELL, MAYBE IT WILL JUST TAKE SOME TIME BEFORE THEY UNDERSTAND, THEN," Papyrus suggested. "SPEAKING OF DINNER, HOW WOULD YOU TWO LIKE TO COME OVER TO MY HOUSE FOR AN AMAZING FEAST OF SPAGHETTI TO CELEBRATE OUR NEWFOUND FRIENDSHIP?"

Before either could answer, Ruby's stomach did the talking, letting out a very audible groan. "I thought you'd never bring up food," the Huntress-in-training squeaked.

"If you don't mind having us over, then yeah!" Sora agreed.

"AND WHILE WE ARE THERE," Papyrus declared, setting out in the direction of his abode, "WE CAN TALK TO MY BROTHER SANS AND SEE IF HE HAS SEEN ANYTHING SUSPICIOUS! THOUGH IT WILL BE LUCKY IF WE CAN CATCH HIM AWAKE."

"Will we wake him up if we make too much noise during dinner?" Ruby asked.

"SANS WAKES UP WHEN HE WANTS TO," Papyrus explained. "NOT EVEN SETTING OFF FIREWORKS NEXT TO HIM COULD WAKE HIM UP. I SHOULD KNOW. I HAVE TRIED."

...

The Ponyville Express finally made it to the Crystal Empire station, and its passengers disembarked. Three ponies in particular galloped eagerly out onto the pristine streets, seeking the next adventure.

"So whaddaya think we should try an' get our Cutie Marks in first?" Apple Bloom wondered out loud.

"There's a crystal flugelhorn class in five minutes," Sweetie Belle suggested. "Maybe we should start there."

"Great idea!" Scootaloo chirped.

"I hope you don't mind if I tag along," a voice sounded from their right. "I do so love the crystal flugelhorn." All three fillies turned to see Wuya keeping pace with them.

"Well, hey, there!" Apple Bloom greeted.

"Didn't we see you on the train?" Sweetie Belle asked.

"Probably," Wuya replied. "That was quite a ride, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Scootaloo grunted. "I wish Applejack had let us help out instead of making us hide in the next car."

"Well, no one wants three poor, defenseless, sweet young fillies like yourselves to get hurt." Wuya's voice became more syrupy by the moment.

"We're not defenseless!" Sweetie Belle argued.

"Yes, you are," Wuya said flatly. "I'm sure the three of you have fighting spirit, but you're no heroes."

"Well, we could be!" Apple Bloom stated vehemently.

"Oh, I don't doubt you could," Wuya affirmed. "Perhaps that will be how you finally get your long-awaited Cutie Marks: through an act of bold heroism. But that will be when you're older. For now, I'd lay low."

"Lay low from what?" Sweetie Belle asked innocently.

"Well, of course that harpy will try to come back," Wuya reminded the girls. "But you should just sit back and let whoever has the Elements of Harmony take care of it."

"But nopony has the Elements right now," Sweetie Belle informed – or believed she was informing – Wuya. "Rarity and her friends gave them back to the Tree of Harmony."

"Oh, dear." Wuya feigned shock. "That is very worrisome to hear. I don't know how we'll defeat that harpy without them. Is there no one else who could take and use them?"

"Hmmm…" Apple Bloom thought it over. "Maybe we could use 'em!"

"But the Tree of Harmony needs them," Sweetie Belle reminded her.

"Maybe it's done using them," Scootaloo suggested. "It let Celestia and Luna take them away for a thousand years. Maybe it just needed to recharge!"

"And what if we DID use the Elements of Harmony?" Apple Bloom's face lit up. "We wouldn't just be heroes! We'd find out what our real destiny is! We'd finally get our Cutie Marks!"

"I'd be almost as cool as Rainbow Dash if I had my very own Element!" Scootaloo gushed.

"You'd have two!" Apple Bloom reminded her. "There are six of 'em, remember?"

"I still think it sounds like a bad idea," Sweetie Belle said worriedly. "If we really needed the Elements of Harmony, Rarity and her friends would still have them."

"You want to know what I think?" Wuya said with a grin. "I think in order to do great things, you have to take a few risks." She was really more used to tempting people into evil than making them think they were acting out of the greater good. If she had to evaluate her own performance, she wasn't doing too bad at all. "Just something to think about. Oh! Looks like we're here."

As she entered the flugelhorn lesson studio, she was pleased to hear the discussion taking place behind her:

"This is even bigger than Cutie Marks! We could save all of Equestria!"

"Applejack would be so proud if I got rid of that harpy for her!"

"Well…I guess being heroes sounds pretty great. Those thorny vines were already taken care of, so the Tree of Harmony shouldn't need the Elements anymore…right?"

...

A car sped hazardously from Knightdock to New Vulpine, traveling no less than ten miles over the limit at any given time and cutting off every car it could whenever it changed lanes. When its driver noticed the gas gauge running low, the vehicle slid into the parking lot of a fueling station, nearly knocking over the chosen pump in the process.

The driver exited, stumbling on his shoes momentarily. "Still don't know how anyone actually walks in these things," he muttered under his breath as he gracelessly walked to the pump.

A few eyes of the other patrons at the station were drawn to this "woman" clad all in white, from a spotless bodice to quite a short skirt indeed, offsetting "her" almost luminescent white hair. But when "her" passenger, a (presumable) redhead swathed in royal blue, disembarked from the car, every single head in the station turned. Fiammetta Incandescent was pretty; Madame Frou Frou wad drop-dead gorgeous.

"I'm impressed, darling," Snatcher said in a low tone. He spoke softly enough not to be heard – a private conversation was about to be held – but he still put up his accent in case. "You managed to get us halfway to our destination without destroying our mode of transportation. I only nearly had a heart attack three times!"

"Well, sor-ry," Roman huffed, equally as quietly, his voice equally veiled. "I might be able to work the pedals better if I wasn't in these damn heels…"

"The heels were your idea, sweetie."

"I know, and I regret everything."

"Why don't I take over for the rest of the way?" Snatcher offered.

"Seriously?" Roman groaned. "I was having fun!"

"I could tell. But you don't want to hog all that fun for yourself, do you?"

"No. Fine. You can take over after this," Roman relented. "You can actually function in those shoes. Somehow."

"Years of practice, my dear Miss Incandescent." Snatcher gave Roman a pat on the shoulder that nearly sent the latter stumbling completely off balance. As the pair waited for the car to fuel, Snatcher asked, "You do remember our story, don't you, Miss Incandescent?"

"I'll never forget it," Roman replied. "Such a terrible tragedy!"

"I do hope you're planning to cry."

Roman gave a little sigh of disappointment. "I knew you were going to ask that."

"Is there a problem?" Snatcher asked.

"I don't cry," Roman hissed. "Ever. Not when I lose things. Not when particularly useful henchmen die. Not when I get stabbed in the thigh with a knife."

"Did that actually happen?"

"Once."

"My poor dear…" Snatcher's fingers lightly brushed against Roman's thigh, only having to lift his hem slightly to find skin. "Was it here?"

"Exactly there," Roman confirmed, grin practically a mile wide.

And the hopes of any heterosexual man still watching the pair was dashed, as the beautiful, enigmatic women were now quite obviously lesbians, and the hopes of any homosexual woman watching was dashed, as they were quite obviously a couple.

"There is only one thing that has ever gotten me to cry," Roman said to get the discussion back on track, "and it's in my bag right now. I'll bring it out right before showtime."

"I'll trust you have things under control," Snatcher replied, withdrawing his hand. "As for control of the vehicle…"

"All yours," Roman told him as he removed the gas pump nozzle from the car's tank and clamped the cap back on.

...

Not long after, the stolen car pulled up sharply outside the New Vulpine police station. "And here we are," Snatcher announced, "in half the time it would have taken you, no doubt!"

Roman didn't answer. His face was frozen wide-eyed, and he stared directly forward at the front window. He was pressed back into his seat as much as was physically possible, his white-knuckled hands clung to the arms of the chair, and while he had been lax about wearing a seatbelt earlier, it was now fastened tightly over his body.

"…Miss Incandescent?" Snatcher lightly poked Roman's shoulder.

"MY LIFE FLASHED AT LEAST FIVE TIMES," Roman blurted loudly in his default timbre, not moving an inch.

"Miss Incandescent," Snatcher reminded him softly, "it would do you well to keep your voice under control for the sake of the charade…"

"WERE YOU AIMING FOR ANY OF THOSE PEDESTRIANS?" Roman went on. "BECAUSE YOU ALMOST KILLED FOUR. YOU SAW THAT TRAIN COMING, RIGHT? AND THE WALL?"

"I missed both the train and the wall, remember?" Snatcher smirked. "And I had quite a blast doing it." He patted Roman's shoulder twice, firmly. "We'd best get a move on, Miss Incandescent."

"Right…right." Roman slipped back into his effeminate accent. "You go on. I'll catch up." He reached into his bodice, where he'd been keeping a small flip knife in a hidden pocket, then opened his purse. Snatcher, curious to see the one thing that Roman claimed could make him cry, was rather amused when the latter produced a whole onion. In order to avoid catching the secondhand effects – he knew he could always cry on command later – Snatcher exited the car, closing the door and leaving Roman to his work.

Roman was quick but thorough as he sliced and diced the onion, releasing its irritant gas throughout the car. He let the pieces of the plant simply fall onto the floor with no regard for the cleanliness of the vehicle. When he exited, his eyes were absolutely dripping with water. "Let's go," he announced, throwing in a fake sniffle.

"Oh, you poor dear…" Snatcher, suddenly inspired, put his hands on Roman's shoulders to lead him into the building. Roman leaned in closer to Snatcher, pretending to shudder with grief. The heel of his shoe hit the curb, and Snatcher's tightened grip stopped him from falling to the ground completely; Roman bit his lip to keep from ruining his charade with a string of curses.

The officer running the front desk was immediately entranced by the sight of the two "women" entering the building. His eyes flickered from Roman's crocodile tears to his dress' short hem. "How can I help you?" he asked.

"We apologize for coming to you in such a state," Snatcher began. "Speaking of the incident always makes dear Miss Incandescent so emotional…"

Roman kicked his voice into an extra high octave: "I can't do this! You tell him, Penelope!"

"I'm afraid it concerns somewhat of a…cold case," Snatcher picked up. "But we have new suspicions to present regarding an incident from years ago."

The officer stood. "It's going to be okay. Just tell us what's wrong. Here. I'll set up a room. Would you like any coffee?"  
"Can't you see I'm too sad for coffee?" Roman howled.

Once the officer, Roman, and Snatcher were in a side room, the officer said, "My name is Clarence. Walter Clarence."

"Penelope Frou Frou," Snatcher introduced. "Née Finn."

"Fi…Fiammetta…" Roman's tears were about dried, so he made the most of his breakdown, his voice soaring ever higher. Clarence passed him a box of tissues, which he eagerly grabbed, pulling the tissues out to rub all over his eyes and loudly blow his nose. "…Fiammetta Incandescent."

"We are here to discuss the disappearance of my niece," Snatcher explained. "Oona Finn. Miss Incandescent was her childhood friend."

"One of the seven missing kids," Clarence replied. "It's been a while since anybody came forward on that."

Snatcher handed forward the photo of Oona from Toriel's drawer. "Our darling," he proclaimed.

Clarence took the photo and examined it with interest. It was one of the missing children, all right, from many years before. "You said you had new evidence?"

"No evidence," Snatcher corrected. "A suspicion. You see, ever since those wretched monsters came aboveground in Knightdock, we've wondered about them."

Clarence nodded. He'd never had a high opinion of monsters. They just seemed like troublemakers to him.

"Their stupid king!" Roman wailed. "He killed her! He killed my best friend! I know it! I KNOW it!"

"Now, now, Miss Incandescent, we don't know that for sure yet." Snatcher reached over to gently pat Roman's shoulder yet again. "It's only our suspicion."

"You think the monster king killed the Finn girl?" Clarence asked for clarification.

"We do," Snatcher confirmed. "They live underground for so long, hating us humans, and suddenly they come to the surface and all is well? It seems all too convenient. After such a long conflict, they can only be pretending. And with so many children in a row going missing…the trouble is, of course, that everyone in Knightdock is used to them now. They seem to have forgotten the truth."

"And what is that truth?" Clarence asked.

"That monsters are abominations," Snatcher said evenly. "All of them. And after all the petty thefts and acts of violence they've caused already!"

Clarence hadn't heard that many reports, but then again, it wasn't his department; that was Knightdock business. "I can't pass judgment on the monsters," he said out loud, but internally, he agreed with Frou Frou. Skeletons and fish people were the stuff of horror stories; how could they mean anything good for humans?

"Please," Snatcher begged, throwing a catch into his voice. "Bring justice. Justice for my Oona…" He brought water to his own eyes.

Clarence reached out and clasped Frou Frou's hand in his own. Human Resources wouldn't fault him just for touching a hand, now, would they? "I'll do my best," he promised.

...

A few minutes later, Roman was back behind the wheel of the stolen car, gunning it back to Knightdock. He had a hankering for a cigarette, but when Snatcher had offered to drive in order to let him kick back and light one up, Roman had immediately determined his fix could wait.

"I think that went well," he announced.

"Most certainly," Snatcher replied. "We're lucky we found the man we did. He's got it out for monsters; I can tell."

"You know what would be nice, though?" Roman pointed out. "If we had an actual crime to pin on the monsters, like you had the box kid."

"You almost sound like you have something in mind, Torchwick."

"I might." Roman grinned madly. "In fact, I might have a way to kill two birds with one stone."

"And what is the second bird?"  
"A little thing called 'revenge.'"

...

Papyrus threw open the front door and flicked on the living room light. "WELCOME TO SCENIC MY HOUSE!"

Ruby and Sora gratefully stepped over the threshold. "Nice place!" Sora complimented.

"FIRST THINGS FIRST!" Papyrus darted up the stairs, hammering on one of the doors with his fist. "SANS, YOU LAZYBONES! ARE YOU IN THERE? WAKE UP THIS INSTANT SO WE CAN INTERROGATE YOU ABOUT A CRIME!" He paused and thought over what he'd said: "NOT ONE YOU COMMITTED, OF COURSE. AS FAR AS I KNOW, YOU DIDN'T COMMIT ANY CRIMES. THOUGH IF YOU DID, WE'LL WANT TO INTERROGATE YOU ABOUT THOSE, TOO!"

He waited; no response. Defeated, he trudged down the stairs. "HE'S EITHER SLEEPING OR AT ONE OF HIS JOBS," he explained, "AND I CAN NEVER REMEMBER WHICH JOB HE'S SUPPOSED TO BE AT EVERY NIGHT. HE HAS SO MANY, AND YET HE NEVER GETS ANY WORK DONE! EITHER WAY, IT LOOKS LIKE WE'RE OUT OF LUCK."

"I should care," Ruby said weakly, "but right now, I'm just too hungry." She collapsed onto the couch in the middle of the room.

"YOU WAIT THERE!" Papyrus ordered. "I SHALL PREPARE A MEAL SO DELICIOUS, YOUR TASTE BUDS WILL THINK THEY'RE ON A TROPICAL VACATION!"

"I can help!" Sora volunteered, following Papyrus into the kitchen.

"Me too!" Ruby peeled herself off the couch.

Much like his house in the underground, Papyrus had fashioned the kitchen with an extra-tall sink. "Cool sink," Sora complimented, experimentally opening the door of the cupboard beneath; a plethora of bones tumbled out and buried him, and it took a couple minutes for the trio to put them all back.

"So how should we divide this up?" Ruby asked. "Maybe…Papyrus can boil the water, Sora can handle getting noodles, and I can work on sauce?"

"A SPLENDID IDEA!" Papyrus proclaimed, fetching a pot to fill with water.

As Ruby opened the cabinets to seek out a smaller pot, her eyes alit upon a familiar-looking bag and subsequently widened. "Are those…what I think they are?" She gently plucked the bag from its resting place, identifying it as chocolate chips. "IT IS!"

"I SEE YOU LIKE CHOCOLATE CHIPS!" Papyrus identified. "THEY ARE THE BEST KIND OF CHIP. EVEN BETTER THAN TORTILLA."

Ruby shook the bag, then offered it out to Papyrus. "Ehhhhh?"

"DON'T MIND IF I DO!" Papyrus took a handful of chips right out of the bag. Sora did the same soon after.

"Hmmm…" Ruby looked around. "You…wouldn't happen to have the rest of the stuff for cookies, would you?"  
"YOU CAN LOOK AROUND," Papyrus told Ruby. "I THINK MY BROTHER BOUGHT THE SUPPLIES FOR THEM THE OTHER DAY. THOUGH WHY HE THINKS WE NEED THEM WHEN WE HAVE SPAGHETTI, I WILL NEVER KNOW."

"Everybody likes COOKIES!" Ruby argued. "Are you saying you don't like cookies?" Her tone was downright accusatory.

"I HAVEN'T BOTHERED WITH THEM," Papyrus told her.

"You've…never HAD cookies?" Ruby nearly dropped the bag.

"NO…?"  
"WE ARE FIXING THAT. RIGHT. NOW," Ruby insisted. "New plan! Papyrus, you handle noodles! Sora, you work on sauce! I'm going to make my famous chocolate chip cookies!"

All three had one more handful of chips straight out of the bag before breaking to do their respective tasks. They ended up taking turns helping each other out, getting all of their hands on all of the food in a collaborative effort. After a few spills, they laid out the table with three plates of piping hot spaghetti and a bowl of fresh chocolate chip cookies. The spaghetti wasn't entirely delicious, but it was better than it was when Papyrus made it alone, and eating it in the company of new friends made it that much more palatable. The cookies were better quality.

After dinner, Papyrus gave Sora and Ruby a short tour of the house. He showed them the pet rock Sans still to that day did not remember to feed and water; they were sympathetic to Papyrus' assumption of responsibility over the rock. He showed them through his room, where his books were neatly organized with puzzle construction manuals on one half of the shelf and colorful picture books on the other; Sora plucked a volume about a lost puppy making his way home from its resting place and interestedly flipped through. Papyrus then took advantage of the time to put his Mettaton-signed water bottle in its place alongside a collection of memorabilia also autographed by Mettaton, including a gym sock, a toaster, and a marker that Mettaton had somehow used to sign itself.

"What are all these?" Ruby asked, looking over a table filled with action figures. Sora looked up from the picture book, in which he'd been engrossed, with interest.

"AH, YES, MY ACTION FIGURES!" Papyrus announced. "THEY ARE PERFECT FOR ENACTING HYPOTHETICAL BATTLE SCENARIOS!"

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Sora asked.

Not five minutes later, the floor was covered in an army of action figures. "You won't get away with this, evil lake guardian!" he laughed, moving a skeletal swordsman toward Ruby.

"Oh, I absolutely WILL!" Ruby countered, holding up a fishy sorceress. "My troops will ensure you NEVER reclaim your precious lake!"

"HOLD ON, SORA!" Papyrus brought a lizardlike warrior wielding a plastic battle-axe over to the tiny skeleton's side. "WE SHALL DEFEAT HER TOGETHER!"

All three figures clashed until Ruby dramatically plunged her sorceress to the floor with a dramatic "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! You defeated me, aaaaaaaaaagggghhh!"

"We won!" Sora proclaimed.

"HIGH FIVE!" Papyrus cried as he and Sora knocked their figurines together.

"NOT SO FAST!" Ruby produced a lupine samurai. "MY SORCERESS SHALL BE AVENGED! AVEEEEEENGED, I SAY!"

The battle raged on into the evening.

...

Cruella downed a Potion, wiping off her lip with the fur on the back of her wrist in the absence of a proper napkin. "It was only a scratch, Grimmie," she declared. The Diamond Dog and the harpy stood in the midst of a patch of warmth Grimhilde had conjured to melt the surrounding snow and ice, leaving them standing on bare dirt. The spot on Cruella's back where she'd been gored by Even's attack had sealed itself through the consumption of several Potions; luckily, the ice hadn't punctured any vitals.

"I'll show them what happens when you try to scratch something that belongs to me!" Grimhilde snarled.

"Oh, so I belong to you, now, do I?" Cruella was amused.

"You're my sidekick now, aren't you?" Grimhilde cackled. "You're stuck with me and I'm stuck with you! Hmm…perhaps now, the mirror will be in working order. It might know where that train is going!"

Through a Corridor of Darkness, the Magic Mirror floated to its mistress. "Slave in the mirror," Grimhilde commanded, "come from the farthest space. Through wind and Darkness, I summon thee. Speak! Let me see thy face!"

Through flames, the masklike visage of the Mirror became visible once more. "What wouldst thou know, my queen?"

"Magic Mirror, among frozen wastes," Grimhilde chanted, "show me Mozenrath's hiding place. What magic guards him? What doth he seek? What upon this world must we wreak?"

"Farther north, beyond the cold," the Mirror answered, "an empire glitters brighter than gold." The face gave way to a view of the Crystal Empire. "Its Heart doth keep Dark spells at bay, though it doth not turn Dark hearts away." The Crystal Heart filled the glass, spinning round and round. "Remove the Heart and you are free to cast Dark magic liberally." The scene changed once more to a royal blue unicorn wandering the streets. "Mozenrath seeks the Crystal Heart. Go now; undo him with thy arts."

"Why didn't the drac…dark…that loud dragon thing stop us this time?" Cruella wondered out loud.

"It doesn't matter!" Grimhilde cackled. "Perhaps he just got bored of toying with us. But we now know where to find Mozenrath! It's simply a matter of removing the Crystal Heart!"

"And then?"

"The Crystal Heart will make a fine gift for the lady Maleficent," Grimhilde explained with a smirk. "Especially when we provide it alongside the still-beating hearts ripped from the chests of Mozenrath and his little friends!"

...

The former king of the monsters sat on a rocking chair on the back porch of his Knightdock home, looking out over his yard. Sentiment had gotten to him, and he had planted his garden with row upon row of golden flowers. He and Toriel each had their own ways of remembering their fallen son, after all.

There was a very insistent ring of the doorbell.

"Knightdock Police Department," the officer greeted when Asgore answered the door. The young man quaked slightly; the sight of the tall, goatlike monster was slightly intimidating. "We have a warrant to search the premises in relation to a crime."

"A crime?" Asgore repeated.

"Missing children," the officer clarified. "We received a tip from the New Vulpine police department that you may have been involved in several cases we declared cold."

It was like an arrow shaft of ice had pierced Asgore's heart. "Feel free to search," he told the officer softly.

Several more officers filed into the house. Asgore knew they would find nothing, and they did find nothing, though they didn't offer any way of apology when they left. Perhaps now they finally knew, Asgore ruminated.

Had he any choice? As king underground, he had known his responsibility was to break the barrier holding monsters back from the surface, and there was only one way to do that: with human souls. It had torn him apart each time he'd had to slay one of the children. He only ever got glimpses of them, but that was enough to let him know of each of their personae. Some of them had tried to fight him and failed. Some had resisted, simply letting him attack. One had burst into tears. And not a one didn't remind him of his beloved Asriel and Chara, both lost to him forever.

But he was king. And the populace demanded he bring them to the surface. Toriel had even called him a coward for his methods…Toriel, who now devoted her life to fostering the learning of human children.

He had wanted to forget any of it had ever happened. But it seemed the past was determined to haunt him. Could the past have determination? Was time like humans in that way? Perhaps, he thought, he should confess then and there, and explain that the six human souls had been hidden far away, laid to rest in the fields outside of town. Show them where he'd put them. Explain that Chara's would remain missing, as she had been buried beneath Mt. Ebott, but the rest could all be accounted for.

He held his tongue until the last officer left. The past would not win today. His hands trembled. Someone had made an effort to call him a murderer, though, and that someone was not wrong. There was no way Asgore could get around that.

...

Mozenrath wandered the streets of the Crystal Empire for a while, taking in the sights as his allies occupied themselves elsewhere (he thought he'd seen Even heading in the direction of a library while Mim had found a garden of flowers to kill via magic). A few questions remained: how was he to ensure that his trackers would follow him all the way here? How was he to direct them toward the Crystal Heart? And how was he to deal with them when they arrived?

"You look like you're deep in thought." The voice punctured Mozenrath's internal monologue. He wasn't at all disappointed to see Twilight approaching.

"Just sightseeing," Mozenrath told her.

"Have you seen the Crystal Heart yet?" Twilight asked.

"Actually, I haven't."

"You were so interested in it," Twilight reminded him. "And you haven't SEEN it yet? Come on. I'll show it to you!"

"I'd like that." Mozenrath realized he was altogether too honest about that.

Twilight led him to an arch beneath the central castle, where a heart-shaped crystal rotated in place, suspended in the air between pillars. "Here it is," Twilight announced. "The Crystal Heart. Powered by the happiness of everypony in the Empire. It takes that happiness and spreads it through all Equestria."

"So this Crystal Heart is a big deal, then," Mozenrath confirmed.

"Yeah," Twilight agreed. "A big deal."

"I've always liked crystals," Mozenrath said, suddenly aware of the fact that he was actively making conversation with Twilight.

"Their physical properties make them very conducive to magic," Twilight replied. "Though, uh…I'm sure you knew that. What's your favorite kind of crystal?"

"The kind that absorbs magic for later use," Mozenrath answered. "And yours?"

"This one," Twilight answered. "My sister-in-law is the princess of this empire, after all. This crystal is like part of our family. If anything ever happened to it – "

The screech of a bird pierced the sky. Before Twilight and Mozenrath could even register what was happening, Grimhilde divebombed the castle, swooping under it and seizing the Crystal Heart in her talons. Time seemed to slow as they watched her latch onto the gem.

"NO!" Twilight cried, her horn charging with magic.

Mozenrath threw in a "NO!" of his own, though it seemed that everything was miraculously working according to plan.

Twilight fired at the harpy; Grimhilde swerved, dodging the blast. And as she did, the Crystal Heart followed her, forcibly dislodged from its designated place.

A chill fell over the entire Empire. The clear skies became overcast with dark clouds. Everypony knew something terrible had happened, and panic overtook many ponies, who screamed or darted down the street.

Inside the castle, the princess felt the crystal's removal as though it were a part of her own body that had just been amputated.

"Oh, did I startle you?" Grimhilde taunted, hovering before Twilight and Mozenrath only momentarily. "Don't worry! Something even MORE shocking than this is coming!" She darted away, up into the skies, as Twilight took another shot and missed.

All Mozenrath could think was that after a line like that, if whatever came next was some sort of electricity monster, he would be very, very upset.

It streaked brightly through the sky, crackling with energy. Great fan-shaped wings kept it aloft. It gave a roar from its dragonlike mouth. The Heartless known as a Storm Rider, summoned by Grimhilde and able to enter the Empire without the protective field of the Crystal Heart to keep it at bay, dove low over one of the main streets, and the cymbal-like appendages on its underbelly opened up to loose a shower of bombs that exploded noisily, tearing up the crystal that made up the pavement.

And as Mozenrath saw the flashes of lightning that coursed through the monster's wings, he was very, very upset.

Inside the studio where a strict instructor was ordering Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo to hold their flugelhorns upright in order to create the proper sound, the sudden sense that something very important was gone pervaded. "What just happened?" Apple Bloom wondered out loud.

"Oh, dear," Wuya said dramatically. "Probably something terrible!"

"Let's go check it out!" Sweetie Belle suggested; everypony else was already out of their chairs and headed outside.

That was when the street blew up.

"APPLE BLOOM!" Applejack cried in terror, rushing through the streets of the Empire, fearing the worst.

"SWEETIE BELLE!" Rarity chimed in, following Applejack closely.

"SCOOTALOO!" Rainbow Dash passed them both, speeding toward the studio.

Thankfully, the bombs had missed the building, though only closely. The three fillies spilled out alongside the other panicked patrons, rushing to their respective mentors.

"Thank Celestia you're safe!" Applejack wrapped one foreleg around Apple Bloom. "We gotta get you somewhere we can protect you!"

"I can get them to safety!" Wuya volunteered.

"Well…" Applejack looked to Wuya with suspicion. "I dunno if I'm just gonna trust my sister to a stranger."

"She helped us out back on the train!" Rainbow Dash explained. "She got rid of those weird creatures for us so we could save Mozenrath!"

Applejack's glare grew in intensity. Wuya returned a look of innocence. After this facial standoff, Applejack relented. "But I better not find out anythin' harmed a hair on her head."

"I can promise you they will be safe," Wuya told Applejack. "Girls, come with me!"

As Applejack, Rainbow Dash, and Rarity went one way, Wuya went another with the trio. "Where are we gonna be safe?" Apple Bloom asked.

"I'm taking you three back to Ponyville," Wuya responded.

"Ponyville?" Sweetie Belle repeated, looking from Apple Bloom to Scootaloo. They were all thinking the same thing: Ponyville was close to the Elements of Harmony.

"How're you gonna do that?" Sweetie Belle asked. "Are we gonna catch the train?"

"No," Wuya told her. "I have magic."

"PLEASE take us there!" Scootaloo begged.

Wuya cast a Corridor of Darkness that led directly back to the small town, galloping through and calling back, "Follow me!"

"What is this?" Scootaloo questioned, staring into the portal's dark depths.

"Never mind!" Apple Bloom replied. "It's gonna take us home, and you know what's there!"

"Right!" Scootaloo galloped into the Darkness. Apple Bloom followed, and finally Sweetie Belle.

Applejack, Rarity, and Rainbow Dash then raced toward the palace to find Twilight and Mozenrath there. Spike, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, Mim, Aghoul, and Even arrived at the same time.

"What IS that thing?" Spike cried in fear.

"Something with a flank we're gonna kick," Rainbow Dash answered.

"I wonder if it's the same kind of creature we saw earlier," Twilight mused. "The kind made out of hearts."

As the Storm Rider let loose another round of bombs, Rarity shrieked, "We can't just let it keep destroying the city! We've got to DO something!"

"We'll break into teams," Mozenrath declared. "You take it from the East, and we'll take it from the West."

"But what about your adorable little sisters?" Aghoul asked in mock concern.

"Yer friend is takin' care of 'em," Applejack explained.

Aghoul, Mim, Even, and Mozenrath exchanged glances. They'd come up with the plan in the train car, and it now seemed it had been set completely into motion.

"GO!" Twilight barked, and while she, Applejack, Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, and Spike went one way, Mozenrath, Mim, Aghoul, and Even went quite another. Once they were out of sight, the latter four used a Corridor to go straight back to Ponyville. By the time anypony noticed they were gone, they figured, their deed would already be done.

...

"They're gone, Grimmie!" Cruella cried from her vantage point at the edge of the Empire. "I can't smell their stench anymore!"

"I had a feeling they would try to use the Corridors," Grimhilde cackled. "Well, there's only one place they know how to go!"

She cast her own corridor, soaring through and laughing all the way; Cruella followed.

"No matter how many times they go back and forth," Grimhilde declared, "we'll be there to follow them!"

...

Wuya had contemplated taking the fillies right to the Tree of Harmony, but she could already hear Even's chiding voice telling her in her head that would make her a little too transparent. As promised, she brought them into the center of Ponyville.

"Now, run along home," she encouraged. "Wait there for your sisters."

"Ma'am, yes ma'am!" Apple Bloom responded with a salute; she took off at a gallop, and Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo followed.

"But we're not really going home, are we?" Scootaloo asked once they were out of earshot.

"Naw!" Apple Bloom replied with enthusiasm. "We're gonna go get the Elements of Harmony!"

"Then how are we going to get back to the Empire to save it?" Sweetie Belle asked.

"I dunno," Apple Bloom told her, "but we'll find a way!"

After waiting a few minutes, Wuya set off toward the Everfree Forest. She wanted to be there when the trio retrieved the Elements from their place of rest.

...

As night fell over Knightdock, the boy known as Eddie was in the midst of an intense game of pretend in his front yard. Running about with a plastic sword, he chopped at imaginary enemies, then rode an invisible horse across the lands of his imagination. All the while, his parents watched him from the front porch, laughing softly at his antics.

Silently, the skeleton walked into the yard, looking tentatively around. Eddie, aware of the new presence, turned his attention to the skeleton and was hit with immediate recognition. From skull to armor plate to red cape, Eddie knew that image well. "PAPYRUS!" he cried happily, running toward the skeleton.

The skeleton nodded at Eddie, reaching down for his hand.

"Eddie?" The boy's mother stood up worriedly.

"It's okay, Mom!" Eddie called back as he and the skeleton walked hand in hand up to the porch. "It's the Great Papyrus!"

"Oh…" Eddie's mother sank back into the chair in relief. Everyone had heard of Papyrus, and come to think of it, everyone in town had seen him, too, and once Eddie pointed it out, both of his parents were easily able to identify the monster as their hometown hero who wouldn't hurt a fly.

When Eddie and his companion reached the edge of the porch, Eddie's father looked the skeleton in the eye and asked, "So, Papyrus, what can we do for ya?"

The skeleton shrugged.

"Thanks for signing your autograph for me yesterday!" Eddie chirped. "You really are the coolest!"

The skeleton knelt down to Eddie's level, beckoning him closer as though to whisper a secret to him.

"What is it?" Eddie asked, stepping closer.

Eddie's parents watched happily as the skeleton waved to Eddie. But their happiness was turned immediately to horror as they watched Neo, wearing the illusory guise of Papyrus, plunge a knife directly into their son's throat.


	18. This Ain't a Scene

18\. This Ain't a Scene

Princess Cadance's heart was nearly beating out her throat as she made for the nearest balcony to get a good view at what had gone wrong in her empire. She had heard explosions and screaming, and it still felt as though something very crucial was now missing.

"CADANCE!"

The alicorn princess halted, hooves scraping the crystal floor, to turn and face her husband and the other two princesses that ruled Equestria's night and day. "What's going on?" the snow-white unicorn known as Shining Armor asked in a panic.

"I don't know," Cadance told him. "I think…something may have happened to the Crystal Heart. If that is the case, then I need you to go out into the streets and see if the ponies there need help. If they need to be evacuated, then evacuate them!"

"I will!" Shining Armor nodded before galloping down a side stairway.

Cadance looked to the two who remained: the tall white multicolor-maned alicorn Celestia, who brought the sunrise every day, and the deep blue alicorn Luna, who brought with her the night. They, like Twilight and her friends, had gone to the empire just for a casual visit.

"We are with you," Celestia emphasized to Cadance.

"Whatever comes, we will face it together," Luna added.

Cadance gave a firm nod, then resumed her run, this time with Celestia and Luna in tow.

...

As the Storm Rider swooped close to the ground, Pinkie Pie brought out her party cannon. "EAT THIS!" she cried, setting it off in the face of a very confused Storm Rider and filling the Heartless' vision with confetti. "AAAAAAND THIS!" The cannon launched a cloud of silver glitter, most of which went up the Heartless' nose. "And while you're at it, have some cake!" Pinkie produced a seven-layer cake topped with strawberries, which she held out with a smile before smashing it into the Storm Rider's nose.

Rarity took over from there, charging the monster and dealing a swift kick upward into its chin. In the meantime, Spike blew a rush of green flame at the creature's tail. Applejack leapt aboard the Storm Rider's head just as the creature decided to take flight, pulling into a loop-de-loop. With a cry of surprise, Applejack wrapped her forelegs around the Heartless' central horn, hanging on tight as the Storm Rider flipped. When it righted itself, the creature let loose another wave of bombs to fall into the streets.

Rarity and Pinkie Pie screamed in terror as the bombs fell. They were protected by the sudden appearance of a magenta dome that covered them, letting all the explosives detonate harmlessly against it. It took them a moment to realize Twilight was standing between them, putting up the dome.

The Storm Rider flipped again, and Applejack could hold on no longer. She slipped and plummeted; Twilight caught her with a magenta aura, slowly lowering her to safety. "Thanks, Twilight," Applejack breathed with relief as her hooves touched ground.

"Looks like we'll have to take this to the air," Twilight announced.

"Ready when you are!" Rainbow Dash cried, appearing at Twilight's left side; Fluttershy timidly approached from the right.

"NOW!" Twilight barked, and the trio lifted off.

The Storm Rider beat its wings at them, and a host of projectiles made of pure electricity surged forth. Twilight, Rainbow Dash, and Fluttershy swerved to avoid all the harmful magic, making a beeline for the Heartless. Rainbow Dash and Twilight pulled up short to let Fluttershy arrive first. "So you're just a big BULLY, huh?" Fluttershy snapped, staring the Heartless down hard. "Well, I'm only going to tell you this once: STOP! PICKING! ON MY! FRIENDS!"

The Heartless, which normally did not give a care toward anything beyond the primal instinct to destroy, was momentarily stunned by that stare, a shiver running through it. It held still long enough for Rainbow Dash to fly circles round and round it, building up a rainbow cyclone that spun the Heartless until it was dizzied.

Spreading its wings and surging with lightning, the Storm Rider broke free of its confining cyclone. Waves of electricity washed out toward both Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy, causing them to scatter to the left and right. Once they'd put some distance between themselves and the Storm Rider, the creature summoned two walls of electricity to fence them off.

"HEY!" Rainbow Dash barked, trying to find a way to fly around the wall; the Storm Rider only made it grow larger. Fluttershy cowered behind her own wall. And that left Twilight boxed into an alley in the sky that only contained her and the Storm Rider.

Twilight's teeth gnashed. Her horn charged up. The Storm Rider beat its wings twice before bringing its wing tips together in front of its massive body, an enormous ball of lightning forming where they connected.

"TWILIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!" Pinkie Pie screamed, watching the scene from below.

Shining Armor, in the midst of escorting a host of crystal ponies to safety, turned his gaze skyward to see his sister squaring off against the great beast. "Twily!" he gasped in fear.

Twilight let loose a beam of magic at the exact same moment that the Storm Rider forged its energy sphere into a cannon of electricity. The two magics collided i midair, and the Storm Rider began to immediately overpower Twilight, pushing her beam back as the crackling energy grew dangerously closer.

But Twilight's beam was joined by a second, then a third and a fourth. Surprised, Twilight glanced out her peripheral vision to see that Cadance, Luna, and Celestia had all joined her in the sky. The quartet pressed on with their magic, fighting the electricity back, pushing it toward its owner. Then, all at once, the Storm Rider lost control, and its own beam washed over it as well as the four alicorns' magic. Overpowered, the immense creature dissolved into thin air, wisps of Darkness surrounding a glowing red heart that soared into the atmosphere.

The walls of electricity that had fenced off Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash came down, and the two pegasi joined the four princesses on their way to the ground. "Nice save!" Rainbow Dash congratulated.

"What is that thing?" Cadance asked.

"It reminds me of creatures I have seen long ago," Luna answered. "Creatures of pure Darkness, forged from corrupted hearts. They have not come to Equestria in a long time."

"There were more earlier," Twilight explained. "Smaller ones. They were summoned here by a harpy."

"This is worrisome," Celestia replied as the flying battalion touched ground.

Cadance spun to survey the base of the castle, and her fears were confirmed as she beheld the empty pillar. "The Crystal Heart! It's missing!"

"That harpy!" Rainbow Dash accused.

"It's weird," Twilight mused. "Mozenrath said he and his friends would attack from the other side. Where ARE they?"

"No idea," Applejack answered as she, Rarity, and Pinkie Pie approached the rest. "We haven't seen 'em since we split up."

"Who is Mozenrath?" Cadance asked.

"Somepony I'm beginning to wonder about," Twilight responded. "The harpy targeted him earlier, and he was interested in the Crystal Heart too. If he's gone…" She began to tremble. "We might have just been played for foals!"

"We shouldn't jump to conclusions," Fluttershy said firmly.

"He was also interested in the Elements of Harmony," Twilight remembered. "I have a bad feeling."

"You need to see the Tree of Harmony and be sure he has not attempted to harm it," Luna filled in.

"Yes!" Twilight responded. "Yes, exactly!"

"How are you going to get back to Ponyville that quickly?" Rainbow Dash asked.

"And how do you think HE got back to Ponyville that quickly?" Applejack followed up.

"There are certain spells that can transport a unicorn that far," Luna explained. "Dark spells. The Crystal Heart would have prevented anypony from using that magic earlier. However, now, it is fair game for anypony. Including myself. I can bring you to the Tree of Harmony if you must go, Twilight."

"Please, Luna!" Twilight begged.

Luna nodded her head to the side, and a Corridor of Darkness appeared in that direction. "We must use the Corridor," she explained.

Twilight spun to face the rest of her friends. "I might be wrong," she admitted. "I just need to be sure."

"We understand," Applejack told her. "You just go do what ya gotta do. We'll look for 'em here in the empire. I sure am hopin' you're wrong, though. Wuya was the one lookin' after my sister…"

"And mine!" Rarity cried.

"And Scootaloo!" Rainbow Dash realized. "We gotta find them one way or another!"

"Stay in the empire in case more of those creatures show up," Twilight advised. "Luna and I will go make sure Mozenrath isn't where I'm worried he is."

And with that, she turned and sped into the Corridor of Darkness at full speed. Luna followed quickly, and the portal closed behind them.

...

An insistent knock at the door jerked Sora, Ruby, and Papyrus out of unconsciousness and into the waking world. It took them a moment to realize that they had fallen asleep on the couch in front of the television the night before, leaning on each other chastely like a comical set of tipped-over dominoes – Sora draped against the couch's arm, Ruby snuggled up on him, and Papyrus sprawled next to Ruby with his head on her shoulder.

"WERE WE SLEEPING ON THE COUCH ALL NIGHT?" Papyrus stated the obvious as he peeled himself off Ruby, who in turn rolled off Sora; the latter two rubbed their eyes lazily. "I DO HOPE SANS DIDN'T SEE THAT. I WON'T HEAR THE END OF IT FROM HIM FOR WEEKS!"

"what now?" a deep voice sounded from the kitchen doorway. "did you say you hoped i didn't see you doing exactly what you always tease me about?"

"SANS, NO!"

Sora and Ruby stifled giggles as they looked back and forth between the two brothers.

"SANS, WHILE YOU'RE UP, GET THE DOOR," Papyrus commanded.

"nah," Sans replied.

"YOU'RE RIGHT THERE."

"door's too far away."

"IT MOST CERTAINLY IS NOT! JUST WALK OVER TO IT…" Papyrus got up, striding to where the knocking was getting louder and more insistent. "AND OPEN IT, LIKE THIS!"

He threw the door open to a view of several police officers; the first one in line roughly spun Papyrus, forced his arms behind his back, and slapped him in cuffs.

"HEY!" Sora cried; he and Ruby stood at once. "What are you doing THAT for?"

"You're under arrest for the murder of Eddie Adams," the officer announced.

"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?" Papyrus cried in a panic, twisting his arms; the cuffs held firm.

"hey, i dunno what's goin' on here," Sans interjected, "but i do know my brother didn't murder anybody."

"We have several witnesses who saw him stab the child in the throat – " the officer began.

"A CHILD?" Papyrus was thrown into more of a panic than before. "A CHILD IS DEAD?"

" – last night, at roughly 9:30 p.m.," the officer continued. "He fled on foot and evaded pursuers for the entire night. We came here to ask YOU – " He gestured to Sans. "Where your brother was. We didn't expect him to actually come back here."

"That can't be right!" Sora pushed his way into the conversation. "We were with Papyrus all night! We made cookies, we enacted a serious hypothetical battle with action figures, and we fell asleep watching TV! He didn't have time to go murder anybody!"

"Your story sure contradicts a lot of witnesses," the officer pointed out. "Including Eddie's parents. He killed the kid right in front of them."

"But he would NEVER!" Ruby insisted.

"You're new around here, aren't you?" the officer reminded Ruby. "How do you know him well enough that you can say that?"

"I just…I do, okay!" Ruby stamped her foot.

"I'm sorry," the officer told her, "but we're going to have to ask the three of you to come in for questioning, especially since you claim to have an alibi."

"Gladly!" Sora insisted, folding his arms. "We can tell you everything! Because we KNOW Papyrus was here the whole night!"

"If you come willingly," the officer said, "you'll make this easier on everyone."

As Papyrus was dragged along to one of the police cars parked outside, watching Ruby, Sora, and Sans escorted by the officers toward a different car, a feeling of dread built inside of him. He remembered a child named Eddie who'd asked for his autograph. He didn't want to think about any child being dead, but that in particular twisted him.

The look on Sans' face was nigh unreadable, as always, but Papyrus knew he was concerned. The looks on Sora and Ruby's faces were easier to read. And he knew they felt the same dread he did, though perhaps for a slightly different reason.

One of the officers left behind on the scene nodded to her fellows. "Search the house."

...

The Tree of Harmony's luminescence cast a glow over the surrounding cavern, almost beckoning Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo closer, their own eyes shimmering with excitement.

"All right, girls," Apple Bloom said firmly. "Let's do this."

"How does this even work?" Sweetie Belle wondered aloud.

"I think we just get close to the tree," Scootaloo suggested, "and…"

Before she could finish her sentence, the tree's branches peeled away their bark, and the center of the trunk split wide, revealing the six Elements buried within. The crystals had been interrupted in the process of reforming into basic polygonal shapes, still retaining somewhat the outlines of star, balloon, diamond, butterfly, lightning bolt, and apple. The gems sped outward on shining trails of glittering dust, pairs settling in slow orbits around each of the fillies: red and pink for Scootaloo, purple and deeper pink for Sweetie Belle, and orange and blue for Apple Bloom.

"I can't believe it!" Apple Bloom chirped. "We got 'em! We actually got the Elements of Harmony!"

From her vantage point behind one of the thick, towering trees of the Everfree Forest, Wuya chuckled to herself. Seducing people into doing the wrong thing for the right reason was turning out to be just as fun as tempting them to be unrepentantly evil. She really had to do it more often.

A scream of pain rang out through the air. "What was THAT?" Sweetie Belle asked in concern.

"Somepony's in trouble!" Scootaloo cried.

Wuya chose that moment to step into view. Egging the girls on would be a bonus; she recognized that scream and she wanted something done about it. "Girls!" she said dramatically. "There you are! I've been looking all over for you!"

"Why?" Sweetie Belle asked. "You asked us to go home and then left."

"Well, obviously, you aren't at home," Wuya replied dryly. "Ohhhhh, you've got the Elements of Harmony now, I see."

"Yup!" Apple Bloom confirmed. "And we're gonna use 'em to save the Crystal Empire!"

"As soon as we help out that poor pony that just screamed," Scootaloo clarified.

"Hurry," Wuya urged. "That scream came from a friend of mine. Help him as soon as you can, please!"

"C'mon, girls!" Apple Bloom commanded, turning to gallop in the direction of the pained cry. "We gotta help!"

As Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo ran along, their crystals still circling them in midair, Wuya kept a close trail, slightly torn in her loyalty. Everything was going exactly according to plan, and no doubt the Elements would soon be in Mozenrath's clutches.

But that was provided he survived whatever had made him cry out loud enough to be heard across the forest.

...

Asgore liked to have MTT Radio playing in the background each morning as he poured his coffee. Mettaton's flair never failed to entertain him, or at least it never had in the past. The android had a talent for taking the littlest things and turning them into massive announcements, which did wonders for the soul when he got ahold of positive events.

However, that morning, what Asgore heard did not entertain him at all. The latest acoustic ballad hit of the week had been interrupted by Mettaton's strong baritone: "I am interrupting this regularly scheduled broadcast of Mornings with Mettaton to bring terrible news! It seems that Knightdock's hometown hero Papyrus, known to many as 'The GREAT Papyrus,' has just been arrested for charges of murder!"

The coffee pot slipped from Asgore's hand and crashed to the floor, leaking boiling black liquid everywhere.

"This is absolute slander if I've ever heard it!" Mettaton went on. "As a friend of Papyrus, I simply cannot bring myself to believe he would ever harm a child as he has been accused of doing! And to think those who call themselves authorities claim he plunged a knife into a poor boy's throat! I do not know what is going on here, but there is definitely subterfuge and evildoing afoot! This is an absolute outrage for which I will not stand!"

Asgore quickly turned the dial to silence Mettaton, as though that would shut him up on every radio across Knightdock and beyond. Panic coursed through him; if a child were dead and a monster accused, Mettaton taking as firm of a stance as he had done would certainly be polarizing.

But worse than that was the news about Papyrus. How could anyone have pinned the murder of a child upon him? A cold sweat sprang up beneath Asgore's fine white coat. Papyrus was so innocent; too innocent. If anyone deserved to bear the brunt of consequences for murder…

Someone did, Asgore realized, and that someone was standing in his comfortable house pouring himself coffee while poor Papyrus was trying to figure his way through his arrest. He knew that his admission of his crimes would not be a guarantee of Papyrus' release. But he did know that to go any longer without such an admission would be unjust.

...

As the officer leaned across the counter to stare Ruby down dead center of her silver eyes, she felt a chill. "And what were you doing at 9:30 p.m.?"

"I'm pretty sure that's when we broke into the stash of board games," Ruby recalled. "We tried playing this one where you buy property and charge people for trespassing on it and try to run everybody bankrupt, but we got bored of that one after a while, and Sora had already won half my money anyway, so then we switched over to the one with the candy where you pick a card and it tells you where to go, and at least nobody could collapse my empire or PLAY WITH MY EMOTIONS THAT WAY…um…yeah, we were just playing board games."

"And you're sure it was 9:30?"

"Well, I wasn't watching the clock the whole time, but I'm pretty sure."

"Hm." The officer relaxed a bit. "That's what your friend Sora said, too. Right down to the part where he won half your money. Either you worked hard collaborating on this alibi, or you're both telling the truth to the best of your ability."

"It IS the truth!" Ruby insisted, slamming a fist on the counter.

"We have several witnesses who saw Papyrus running away from the crime scene," the officer reiterated, "not to mention the boy's parents."

"Look, I'm not saying that…SOMETHING…didn't happen," Ruby replied. "But whatever it was, Papyrus didn't have any part in it. Maybe it was someone who looked a lot like him! Maybe someone put on a red cape so witnesses would think it WAS Papyrus!"

"Right now, it comes to witness against witness," the officer sighed. "You and Sora both provided a solid alibi, and Sans gave a testament to Papyrus' character. But the Adams parents saw what they saw, and so did everyone else that lived near them that night. Not to mention that you and Sora…you seem like nice people, but you also seem to have come out of thin air."

Ruby squirmed. She hoped her and Sora's points of origin weren't going to come under question. Telling the local authorities that they'd flown in from other worlds on a candy-colored spacecraft was obviously not going to fly. "Sooooo…what does that mean?"

"It means we're going to be holding Papyrus in our custody until we know exactly what's going on," the officer sighed. "No matter how long it takes."

Ruby nodded. "I understand."

"You're free to go for now," the officer told Ruby. "I think we have all we need from you."

Ruby nodded. "Okay."

Upon leaving the room, she joined Sora and Sans in the front room of the station, sitting next to them in a row of chairs. Sora eagerly leaned forward; "Well?"

"They're keeping him here until they know what happened," Ruby informed him.

"But we already KNOW what happened," Sora insisted.

"I know," Ruby said softly. "But they don't."

"This doesn't make sense!" Sora went on. "I think somebody's trying to frame Papyrus for murder!"

"I think so too," Ruby agreed.

"could be," Sans said with a nod.

"How can you be so calm about this?" Sora asked Sans. "Ruby and I are freaking out, but he's YOUR brother, and you're just…sitting there!"

"just how i roll, i guess," Sans replied. "trust me, i'm worried about him too. good to know there are people out there like you, though. people who believe in him." He waited a moment before speaking again. "undyne's probably breaking everything she can reach. she wouldn't take this lying down. only a matter of time before she shows up."

That was why when the door to the station opened, Sora, Ruby, and Sans' eyes immediately flicked to the frame. However, the monster who entered was not, as they thought, the passionate Undyne. Instead, Asgore somberly stepped over the threshold.

"Can I help you?" a passing officer asked.

"I…have something I need to say," Asgore told her.

"Is it about the murder case?" the officer inquired.

"Papyrus would never harm a human," Asgore replied. "Or anything else. You cannot hold him."

"We don't have the evidence to decide one way or the other," the officer informed him.

"But I…" Asgore seemed not to have heard the officer, his mind in a distant time and place. "I cannot go on any longer this way."

"you sure you wanna do this, buddy?" Sans asked from his vantage point in the chair against the wall.

"What's going on?" Sora wondered out loud.

"that's asgore," Sans explained. "king of all the monsters. pretty nice guy."

"Six children," Asgore told the officer. "I took the lives of six children who fell into the mountain in an effort to use their souls to break the barrier. I did it for my people. To give us a chance at a better life. But it does not change the fact that I stole their lives from them when they'd barely had a chance to live."

And that, to Sora and Ruby, didn't sound like the hallmark of a "nice guy" one bit.

...

Yzma had tuned in to the latest Mettaton broadcast and was playing it loudly across the laboratory; the Huntsman, Neo, Roman, and Snatcher were scattered about the room to listen.

"And now they're saying that King Asgore himself has confessed to not one, not two, but SIX murders!" Mettaton gushed. "It seems this story only has more heartwrenching twists in its plot as the day goes on! Though while I've no doubt that Papyrus' hands are clean, Asgore as the villain of the tale is something I could believe. After all, which of us hasn't planned a murder or two?"

"I think I like this radio host," Yzma said with a grin. Neo nodded her approval.

"But if he is the villain of our tale, he is an incredibly misguided and misunderstood variety," Mettaton went on. "Listeners, please phone in and give us your take on this devastating tale!"

There was a click as Mettaton put one of the lines on air; Neo recognized the booming voice of her fishy opponent from the beach. "Listen," Undyne growled. "If you jerks think Papyrus had ANYTHING to do with ANY of this, I will FIND you and I will FIGHT YOU!"

"Our very own Undyne!" Mettaton announced. "It seems the disbanding of the Royal Guard hasn't taken any of the spark out of her!"

"Papyrus wouldn't hurt ANYONE!" Undyne continued. "Do none of you know ANYTHING? Have NONE of you been paying attention when he's been trying to protect and befriend all of us? If you know what's good for you, you're going to let him go. NOW." On that note, she ended the call.

"Now listen and learn." Snatcher picked up his scroll, dialing in to Mettaton's station.

"You're live with Mettaton," the android told him.

The voice of Madame Frou Frou was heard across the radios of Knightdock and beyond: "Are all monsters this violent? Not only are two of them murderers, but one of them just threatened us all over the air! How do I know YOU'RE not just as bad as them?" Smugly, he disconnected the call.

Another caller: "That last person had a point. How can you say stuff like 'I will find you and I will fight you' over the air? I thought monsters were supposed to be just like everybody else, but they are just hurting people left and right!"

And another: "I thought we could trust Papyrus. But it looks like I was wrong."

Snatcher, calling in with his natural timbre: "It's not right at all, any of this! Anyone who's lost a child to these freaks of nature should demand justice, and it's justice they should get! How now are we to know that our children are safe playing in the streets? Why, any filthy monster could just pluck any child from their home and eviscerate them until there's nothing left but a pulp!"

Another: "Listen, I just think Papyrus's friends are really passionate in the heat of the moment right now. I don't think he would have hurt anybody."

Another: "Yeah, to the last person who phoned in. Are you INSANE? Do you want your kids living in a town where MASS MURDERERS are running loose in the streets?"

Snatcher's finger was poised over his scroll before it rang. He grinned, knowing exactly who was calling. "Torchwick," he ordered, "take the next call. Tell them that you think we were better off when monsters were underground, and that's where they should return."

"So the truth, then," Roman replied.

"Monsters underground are not as good as dead ones," the Huntsman argued.

"Who is calling?" Yzma demanded to know.

"A charming officer who was very sympathetic to the plights of Madame Frou Frou and Miss Incandescent," Snatcher told her smugly.

"You gave one of them your SCROLL NUMBER?" Yzma hissed.

"That I did," Snatcher confirmed, "and for the information we are about to receive, it was a necessary evil." He swiped across the scroll's screen, lifting it to his ear and slipping easily into Madame Frou Frou's accent: "Hello?"

"Ms. Frou Frou?" a voice replied.

"Oh, darling, don't act like such a stranger," Snatcher responded. "Call me Penelope."

"Heh…" the voice on the other line chuckled. "So you figured out who this is."

"Of course, Officer Clarence. Your voice is most memorable."

"Just wanted to let you know that one of the monsters ended up confessing and letting us know where he buried a ton of evidence. Apparently, there are six human souls in some kind of canisters in a field out west. The NVPD and the KPD are sending a joint team out there to collect them today. We'll have to keep them at the station for a day or so, but we should be able to return them to friends and family of the victims when we're done. You'll have Oona back with you sooner than you know it."

"Why, Officer Clarence…" Snatcher feigned a stunned demeanor. "I don't know what to say. You do not know how much it means to know we can finally have her remains with us. If only justice for her death would come so easily."

"The guy who did it is going to pay," Clarence replied. "And while the KPD is confused on the skeleton's involvement…between you and me, Penelope, I know he's guilty as sin. The pieces are falling into place, sweetheart. The only thing we won't be able to do is give Oona back."

"Thank you ever so much for letting me know," Snatcher told the officer.

"I'll give you another call when we're ready to release the souls," Clarence stated. "Or if there are any new developments."

"Thank you. I'll be anxious to hear it. You're such a brave man, Officer."

"Well, I don't know about this whole debacle requiring bravery, but you're one special lady yourself, Penelope. You be careful out there, okay? Between the monsters still running loose and the riots that are bound to come out of this…"

"I will take great care, Officer. For your sake."

"Please. Call me Walter."

"Goodbye, Walter." The moment Snatcher hung up the phone, he was finally able to let go of a laugh that had been building inside of him for a while. "Hook, line, and sinker, I daresay! It never gets old."

"And they should go back where they came from, you hear me?" Roman was yelling into his own scroll. "Keep the upper world for HUMANS. Like it was MEANT TO BE. Capisce?" He was in an equally good mood when he hung up.

"It seems you have competition," Yzma informed him. "While you delivered that lovely speech, Snatcher's been chatting it up with the officer he gave his number."

"Aw, you like one of the other boys better than me?" Roman teasingly pouted.

"He couldn't hold a Roman candle to you," Snatcher replied.

Neo stuck a finger into her mouth in the direction of her throat, miming gagging.

"Are you going to exchange flirtations for the next hour," the Huntsman broke in, "or are you going to tell us what information you gained, exactly?"

"The souls are being transported to the police station tonight," Snatcher told him gleefully. "They're as good as ours! Not to mention one of them has been promised to be delivered right into our hands!"

"And what then?" the Huntsman asked. "How do we ensure that the other five are safely within our grasp?"

"I would answer," Snatcher told the Huntsman, "but you're talking like you've already thought something up."

There was a slight crackle of static on the radio. A somber voice broke in over Mettaton's: "They're trying to get into the station, you know. Shyren and I just boarded up all the doors."

"Beauties and gentlebeauties," Mettaton announced, "I welcome hearing all of your opinions with open arms! However, we are ONLY taking phone calls at this moment! No face-to-face communication, please!"

"It seems the mob is gathering," the Huntsman muttered. He turned back to Snatcher: "As of now, I have thought of something."

...

Across the town of Knightdock, twin mobs were gathering, opposite in nature but still connected by method. Around the police station, monsters of all shapes and sizes had formed a sizeable crowd, and a few even carried picket signs demanding to "FREE PAPYRUS."

"M-maybe d-d-don't threaten to f-fight anybody this t-time," Alphys cautioned Undyne, who was hoisting the largest sign of all.

"We'll see," Undyne growled. "People need to know not to mess with my FRIENDS."

Catching sight of a familiar silhouette, Alphys greeted, "T-Toriel?"

Toriel flinched at being recognized. "Hello," she responded.

"Now they HAVE to listen to us, with YOU on our side!" Undyne cackled.

"I can only hope," Toriel said somberly.

"Wh-what about Asgore?" Alphys asked. "S-some m-m-monsters are here f-for him too."

"That is…different," Toriel explained. "And difficult. I know very well what Asgore did. And yet…there was a time I wanted the same thing. For enough humans to die that we could break the barrier."

"We all screwed up, okay?" Undyne insisted. "Things were tough back then. We thought we were being fair and just giving humans back what they gave to us. You. Me. That robot who keeps casting himself as the lead in all the community plays."

Toriel looked somberly toward the station, and Alphys realized something. "You're…JUST here f-for Asgore, aren't you?"  
"I care about Papyrus very much," Toriel explained. "I no longer know what it is I feel for Asgore. But I do not want to see him suffer this way. Not when I am just as guilty as he. I remember when I called him a coward for not taking more initiative to acquire the souls we needed. But now…now that I know and love so many human children…"

"If you don't stop beating yourself up over this," Undyne growled, "I'LL beat you up over this. And listen. Right now, I'm focusing on fighting for Papyrus because I know we can win that one. But I'm not gonna give up the fight until we get Asgore back, too! So he's guilty! We know he's better than that now!"

"Um…Undyne? T-Toriel?" Alphys held up a small device she'd been using to stream MTT-radio, small buds inserted into her ears. "You sh…should p-probably know what's h-happening on the r-r-radio."

"Well?" Undyne asked.

"They h-hate us," Alphys squeaked.

...

The cell door slammed behind Asgore, closing him into the small area with only a cot, a heavily boarded-up window frame, and Papyrus for company.

"ASGORE!" Papyrus greeted. "WHY ARE YOU HERE?"

"This…is where I should be," Asgore sighed. "The real question is why you are here. You should not be here. You did nothing wrong."

"EVERYONE SEEMS TO THINK I DID FOR SOME REASON," Papyrus replied. "BUT I WOULDN'T…I COULDN'T!"

"I know."

"THAT POOR HUMAN…WHY WOULD SOMEONE KILL HIM?"

"Perhaps…" Asgore found he could not meet Papyrus' gaze. "Perhaps they thought they were doing the right thing."

"BUT HOW COULD THAT BE TRUE? KILLING A HUMAN WOULD BE A BAD THING! EVERYONE KNOWS THAT! RIGHT?"

Asgore was silent.

"RIGHT?"

Silence.

"AS…GORE?"

"I thought I was doing the right thing."

"ASGORE!" Papyrus cried in shock. "WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?"

"We needed seven souls to break the barrier," Asgore muttered.

"SO YOU…YOU JUST…HUMANS, ASGORE?"

"Yes, Papyrus. Humans."

The air grew heavy, and not a word was spoken for a while. Then Papyrus admitted, "I CANNOT BELIEVE IT, ASGORE. I DID NOT THINK YOU…"

"I am sorry, Papyrus," Asgore replied. "I can attempt to justify what I had done, but at the end of it all…I cannot. Not truly."

"ASGORE…"

"I know you are…probably disillusioned."

"I FORGIVE YOU."

Asgore's head snapped up and he made eye contact with Papyrus. Despite the skeleton lacking lips, it was still easy to tell he was smiling. "But…how…"

"BECAUSE YOU HAVE BEEN GOOD TO US FOR SO LONG! YOU HAVE ALWAYS LOOKED OUT FOR YOUR SUBJECTS! I…DON'T THINK IT WAS RIGHT OF YOU TO KILL HUMANS. BUT YOU DID SAY YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE DOING WHAT WAS RIGHT. AND I BELIEVE YOU, BECAUSE I KNOW YOU WOULD ALWAYS TRY AND DO WHAT IS RIGHT! AND I KNOW YOU CAN DO BETTER FROM NOW ON! THAT'S WHY I DON'T THINK YOU SHOULD BE HERE EITHER!"

"Papyrus…I…" The former king's eyes watered. "Thank you. I don't deserve…"

"AS YOUR SUBJECT, DO I HAVE PERMISSION TO HUG YOU?"

That made Asgore smile ever so slightly. "Papyrus, I am no longer king. You are not my subject anymore. We are friends."

"SO THAT'S A YES!"

"It is a yes."

Papyrus immediately wrapped his arms tightly around Asgore, and the former king began to tremble as he returned the gesture.

...

The second mob was composed entirely of humans, surrounding the MTT-Radio station. They too carried hastily made signs, mostly reading slogans such as "SEND MONSTERS BACK UNDERGROUND" and "KNIGHTDOCK FOR HUMANS!"

A stolen car very gently rolled up to the crowd. The Huntsman's grip tightened on the wheel. Next to him, Yzma surveyed the angry mob with glee, and in the back seat, Snatcher (dressed to the nines as Frou Frou), Roman (dressed equally flamboyantly as Fiammetta), and Neo (wearing the guise of a redhead in silver) jostled to get a good look through the front window.

"I believe you know what to do," the Huntsman goaded.

Snatcher led the five of them toward the crowd. It was absolutely perfect; he couldn't have asked for a better setup. "YOUR ATTENTION, PLEASE!" he barked in heavily accented falsetto.

Most of the crowd stopped to get a good look at the five newcomers, wondering if they were here to defend monsters or join the people in tearing them down. Most of them also wondered why in the world one of them was wearing what looked like a giant horned skull for a helmet.

"These monsters!" Snatcher announced, his voice laden with as much false woe as he could muster. "They have lied to us! They have taken our children from us! And they will MURDER us if we do not stop them!"

This was met with several cries of assent.

"We cannot allow these…these vermin to continue to infect our town!" Snatcher cried. "Nay, we cannot allow them to infect our WORLD! Now tell me! Are you going to simply stand around and continue to let these outrages happen?"

"HELL NO!" a voice called back.

"Then you know what we need to do," Snatcher growled. Thrusting a fist into the air, he cried, "WE NEED TO KILL THE MONSTERS!"

Instead of a rousing cheer, he was met with stunned silence. That was his first clue he had played the card slightly too early.

"That would make us just like them!" one voice cried out.

"We're trying to STOP murders around here!" another yelled.

"Things were fine until yesterday!" a third called out. "It's just the bad ones that need to get locked up!"

"DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?" The Huntsman pushed his way to the front of the group, despite Snatcher, in somewhat of a panic, trying to tug at his sleeve to get him to step back and not make things worse. "MONSTERS ARE A MENACE THAT MUST BE EXTERMINATED!"

"We don't want ANY murders in this town!" One woman stepped forth to look the Huntsman in the eye, only slightly unnerved by the glimpse of crimson she caught through the shadows of his helmet. "From monsters or otherwise! All we want is for them to go back underground so this can stop! If you want to kill them so bad, maybe you should go underground too! Maybe YOU'RE no better than a monster!"

The sentence had the effect of hearing the glass of a hundred-year-old and thousand-dollar vase shatter. Snatcher, Roman, Neo, and Yzma all held their breath, half expecting the Huntsman to kill the woman on the spot.

But the Huntsman refrained, simply turning and stalking away. He threw open the door to the car, got back inside, turned the key, slammed the door, and drove away.

"Well," Yzma sighed, "there goes our ride."

"…Sorry to waste your time!" Snatcher said hurriedly. "Our mistake! We'll be going onw!" He turned and fled as fast as he could in heels, with Yzma, Neo, and Roman close behind.

"You can RUN IN THOSE THINGS?" Roman said in disbelief, looking from Snatcher's feet to Yzma's; her shoes were just as tall.

"You'd think that between the skeleton and King Fazbear," Yzma hissed, "we'd have had them all in the palm of our hand!"

"Asgore," Roman corrected. "'Fazbear' is from that stupid game Neo won't stop playing whenever I need to use the computer."

Neo pointed to Roman, then mimed a panic attack.

"And no, I am NOT calling that game stupid because I'm SCARED of it!" Roman groaned. "Because I am not scared of it! I call it stupid because IT'S STUPID!"

"Whatever!" Yzma groaned. "You'd think they'd at least be calling for the death of Asgoat!"

Snatcher's mind was on the Huntsman. The man was beginning to worry him, for the sake of the plan. He didn't want the Huntsman to spoil what rapport they had going among the people of Knightdock.

Little did he know that another of his companions was absolutely hoping that the Huntsman would spoil things, and soon; it had been far too long since they'd stopped talking sweet and taken some action.

His eyes fixed on the mountain base, the Huntsman clenched the wheel as he drove back to where his weapon was stored. "Whether they want it or not," he growled to himself, "the hunt begins tonight."


	19. Fly By Night

1\. Fly By Night

As evening fell, the young officer felt it his duty to step outside the police station and speak to the crowd of monsters that had gathered. "Attention!" he called out confidently, and all stopped to look at him.

"Thank you," he continued. "I understand your concern, but we don't yet have decisive evidence to make a conclusion one way or another on the Papyrus case. You have the right to peacefully assemble, but not at the cost of impeding justice, and if you keep crowding the station, you'll end up doing exactly that." He took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience."

The sun was setting, and between the lateness of the hour and the officer's speech, many monsters began to disperse. Toriel only did so after a longing last glance at the station, thinking not of the complicated case but of the one whose fate had already been decided.

"I'm not going anywhere," Undyne insisted, stamping a foot."

"And I'm s-staying w-with Undyne," Alphys added.

Deciding that two monsters could hardly cause all that much harm, the young officer simply nodded and walked back into the station. "They're clearing out out there," he informed Sans, Ruby, and Sora. "It's up to you what you want to do. You just can't get in anyone's way, and this doesn't mean it's visiting hour for your friend."

Sans responded with an audible snore; he was already asleep.

Sora shook his head. "I can't stay here anymore anyway." He stood up, planting his feet firmly on the floor. "Not when Papyrus needs my help. I'm going to go out there and see if I can find out what happened!"

"Where are you going to look?" Ruby asked.

"I…don't exactly know that yet," Sora admitted. "But I'll figure out something! I always do!"

"I think I'm just going to stay here, if you don't mind," Ruby told him. "It doesn't feel right to just LEAVE him. Even if we can't talk to him right now."

Sora nodded. "I get it. I'll come back here after I've figured more things out. I promise!"

"Good luck!" Ruby wished as Sora darted out of the station.

That left the officer and Ruby alone in the room with the sleeping Sans. "So," Ruby asked, "what's your name?"

"Lyons," the young officer responded. "Dan Lyons. It's not that I don't want to chat, but you really can't interrupt me from my work."

"Sorry," Ruby said meekly.

Still, Lyons was glad someone had asked his name. It seemed all too often that people preferred to know the names of the villains of the story rather than the heroes. They wanted to see the guilty as innocent, the innocent as guilty, and the corrupt as the face of the force. As for civilians who'd never run afoul of the law or been connected to it at all, did they even get recognition? Lyons was just trying to do the best he could. And if he were allowed to make decisions based on his heart, he would have let Papyrus go in an instant. He knew better than to believe the energetic skeleton was a murderer. But no one's heart is decisive evidence.

...

A villain who would have preferred his name never be known made his way carefully and deliberately down toward the police station in a stolen car. The Huntsman kept his headlights off, sticking to back streets. His staff lay across the passenger seat beside him. He'd been careful to leave without alerting any of the others; Yzma, Roman, Snatcher, and Neo had all been busy elsewhere in the underground city. The Huntsman knew that Snatcher would only try to impede his quest in the name of the longer, more complex plan. That was why he had wanted to go alone. He didn't know that there was anyone else in the car until he felt a delicate finger tap him on the shoulder.

He slammed on the brakes, nearly swerving into a lamppost. Angrily whirling, the Huntsman's fiery eyes fixed upon the mischievous grin of Neo. "What are YOU doing here?" he roared.

As usual, Neo didn't answer in words, only giving him an unnerving grin.

"You're here on behalf of Mr. Snatcher or Mr. Torchwick, aren't you?" the Huntsman accused. "You want to stop me from upsetting their scheme."

Neo's grin faded, and she shook her head somberly.

Realization settled in. "You…wish to come with me to kill the imprisoned monsters."

Now Neo's smile nearly split open her face as she nodded vehemently, producing her umbrella and drawing its thin blade.

"Very well," the Huntsman sighed. "You may come. But stay out of my way."

Neo gave a nod of assent.

Turning back to the wheel, the Huntsman reminisced; "I'm sure I've told you of my days as part of the Huntsclan. I have told you of the Huntsgirl, have I not? It is a tradition for the Huntsmaster of the clan to fight with an apprentice alongside of him in hopes that the apprentice will become the next generation's Huntsmaster. Perhaps you can act as a Huntsgirl this night. However, if you turn traitor as the last one did, it will be you who becomes the hunted."

Neo, thinking over the Huntsman's words, cast a new illusion over herself. Her body did not change, but her clothing and hair underwent a transformation. The Huntsman caught sight of her in the rearview mirror. She was now wearing a suit of green cloth that covered her entire body and sheathed all of her face but her mismatched eyes. She fitted herself with dark gloves, shoes, and epaulets, and her hair appeared to lengthen, traveling down her back in a tricolored braid. It was the uniform of the Huntsgirl, and she was all too happy to step into that role.

...

Frisk checked around the corner, looking up and down the main hall. The coast was clear. Frisk slipped into the foyer, making for the door.

"Young lady, where do you think you're going?"

Their mother's voice stopped them cold. "I was just going to bring out the garbage," Frisk lied.

"You might want to actually get the bag from the kitchen, then," their mother said coldly.

Frisk turned to face the older woman slowly, swallowing hard.

"You were going out to see monsters," Aya Tobias said coldly.

Frisk shook their head. "I…" They meant to lie. Instead, they said, "…don't think it happened like you think it did. I KNOW Papyrus, and – "

"We're not taking any chances, Frisk. You're not going outside."

"But, Mom – "

"In fact, you're going to your room right now so we know where you are. Safe."

"But, Mom!"

"NOW, Frisk."

At least it was a good deal quieter and calmer than their father would have been. Defeated, Frisk turned to walk back up the stairs to their room. They briefly contemplated making a run for the door, but their mother would have outpaced them, grabbed them forcibly, dragged them indoors and locked the door on the way. Then would come the lectures and ever so much yelling.

There would be yelling anyway, Frisk knew as they ascended to their room. Almost immediately when they closed the door, they heard the strong voice of their father break in. Though Frisk couldn't make out the exact words, they knew it had something to do with their attempting to leave the house again, coupled with some derogatory slur toward Papyrus or Toriel. Then their mother, overcome with guilt, would plead that maybe they were being too hard on Frisk, to which their father would reply "TOO HARD ON HER?" – and there it was, he'd just yelled it. Now they were bound for another long night of arguing, and in the morning, it would be Frisk's fault they had fought. Well, technically, it was Frisk they were fighting about, but did that put Frisk at fault, really?

"No," the tiny voice said. "They're just being stupid, again. I bet the old man is getting his gun down from the shelf again so he can try and shoot any monster that comes too close to the house. I really hate them, you know."

Quickly pulling the lock to their room tight, Frisk hurried over to the mirror to look at themselves. "You don't usually talk when it's this early," they whispered to the reflection.

The eyes staring back looked less brown than they did bright red. "I got bored with sleeping," the little voice said inside Frisk's head.

Chara was something that Frisk didn't dare try to explain to their parents. It was already hard enough telling them that they had several friends who weren't human, and that they weren't a "young lady" like both of the Tobias parents insisted on calling their child. Frisk couldn't imagine what would happen if they ever told their parents that there was an actual voice inside their head. Frisk had worried momentarily that the voice was a sign of mental illness, as their parents would most certainly believe, but it had been made increasingly clear as they progressed through the underground on their fateful journey that they had picked up a hitchhiker in their soul, a person long dead who was looking for a place to rest. And her name was "Chara." Chara tended to tune out for most of the day, preferring to make herself known for evening chats; she could choose when to "sleep" and leave Frisk's soul alone in its body. But now she was wide awake.

"I know you don't like them," Frisk whispered. "But they're my parents."

"And they're awful. Don't you remember what your dad called Mettaton the other day? I got my TV taken away for a week for using that word once. Hey, you know what we should do?"

"Don't say 'run away,' Chara."

"Why not? You hate it EVERY time I bring it up. But if we ran away, we wouldn't have to hear them screaming anymore!"

Frisk turned an ear to what was going on downstairs:

"Oh, now you think your GUN is going to solve all your problems? Are you just going to start shooting things until you think your daughter is safe?"  
"I'm trying to protect this house, Aya, and you know it! Do you want to find Frisk with her throat cut on our back step?"

"You're real mature, you know that? Just whipping that thing out and firing at whatever – "

"I DON'T FIRE AT WHATEVER, AYA! I KNOW HOW TO USE A GODDAMN GUN!"

"See what I mean?" Chara posed. "And you KNOW what he wants to use that gun on. What if it's Alphys? I would've said Papyrus, but I don't think he's coming around to the house anytime soon. The longer you stay here, the more your friends are in danger."

"I think you're just saying that because you want to leave," Frisk replied.

"But it's true!" Chara argued.

"I know," Frisk sighed. They glanced toward the window.

"You're actually thinking about it!" Chara gasped. "See, there's a bit of roof we could walk on, and then all we have to do is climb down the big tree – "

"It's not forever," Frisk whispered. "It's just for tonight."

"What? Where are you gonna go?"

"To Toriel's," Frisk answered softly. "It isn't…it isn't just my parents. It's all this stuff with Papyrus and Asgore. I just…I need her right now."

"She's a really good mom, Frisk. We could live with her."

"We can't, Chara. You know that." Frisk was already getting up and moving toward the window, pulling back the white linen curtain, undoing the latch.

"But I miss her," Chara said plaintively. "I really screwed up with her, Frisk."

"I'm sorry about that," Frisk said as they stepped over the edge of the window. Even outside, on the roof, they could still hear their parents' screams. ("For Christ's sake, Den, one of them is her teacher!" "She's not going back to that school, Aya. Not until they learn from this and put a leash on that creature!") "Maybe someday, we can fix it." They tested a tree branch for strength, then stepped out onto it, keeping a tight hold on the plant.

Down the tree, out of the yard, into the empty street, finally, Frisk and Chara couldn't hear the cries anymore. Frisk thought about going back for their bike, but it was in the garage, and the noise would certainly alert the Tobiases to the fact that their child was running away. And so Frisk went on foot, hurrying down the road and round the corner, mentally mapping out the way to Toriel's home.

There was almost no one out on the streets, and all the lamps had come on in the dark. Frisk let their guard drop, failing to pay attention as they rounded another corner and crashed into the other person who'd been out running at that time of night. Frisk went tumbling to the ground with a scream.

"Frisk!" the other cried worriedly. A hand was extended down next to the fallen child. "Are you okay?"

Frisk looked up tentatively, heart beating at double rate. "Hi, Sora," they greeted, taking the offered hand.

Sora hoisted Frisk up to their feet. "Where were you going?" he asked.

"Please don't tell anyone," Frisk begged.

"O…kay?" Sora tilted his head in confusion.

"Sorry," Frisk panted. "My parents don't exactly know I'm out. And I want it to stay that way."

"He's cute," Chara whispered. "I like him!"

"Why don't you want your parents to know you're out?" Sora asked innocently.

"After…you-know-what happened…they don't want me to be near monsters," Frisk answered.

"WHAT?" Sora replied. "But Papyrus didn't…" He shook his head. "Some people just don't get it. But I'm gonna try and fix that."

"How?"

"He's REALLY cute," Chara insisted. "You should flirt with him!"

"Not now," Frisk hissed.

"Huh?" Sora replied.

Frisk shook their head. "Nothing."

"Well, I don't know exactly how I'm gonna do it," Sora admitted, "but I couldn't just sit around anymore. I'm gonna find a way to prove Papyrus innocent and figure out where the real bad guys are!"

Frisk no longer wanted to take refuge with Toriel. "I want to help Papyrus, too," they stated. "Can I help you?"

Sora shrugged. "Sure!"

"Are you just holding back on flirting with him because you have a thing for my brother?" Chara accused.

Frisk just sighed. "Sometimes it almost feels like everyone would have been better off if we'd all stayed in the mountain after all."

"You don't mean that," Sora replied.

"I don't," Frisk admitted. "But…" They were struck with it then, looking up to Mt. Ebott. "The mountain! Sora, the mountain! Nobody ever goes up there anymore! Not since the monsters came aboveground!"

"Yeah?" Sora responded. "What about it?"

"If I were trying to hide from everybody else," Frisk continued, "that's EXACTLY where I'd go!"

"So that might be where Roman and his friends are!" Sora realized. "Frisk, that's genius! Let's go!"

The pair took off swiftly through the night, upward bound.

...

As soon as Mozenrath, Even, Mim, and Aghoul arrived back at the edge of the Everfree Forest, they charted their course for the enchanted tree at its heart. They had only galloped a short ways into the wood when they noticed the thick cloud cover overhead.

"That had better be bad weather," Mozenrath growled.

It wasn't bad weather.

Grimhilde swept downward on dark wings, beating heavy currents of air at the four unicorns, nearly bowling them all backward. As soon as she landed, a great hemisphere of magic spread out over the quartet, hitting them hard with a Graviga spell that pinned them flat to the ground, legs splayed, stomachs against the grass.

"Well DONE, Grimmie!" Cruella cackled, striding next to the harpy and observing the four trapped unicorns.

"You." Mozenrath's horn glowed; he tried to throw off the Graviga, but failed. "You don't know what you're DEALING WITH – "

Grimhilde flicked a wing at Mozenrath, and a bolt of lightning boomed down into the forest and struck him directly, sending high volts of pain coursing through his every muscle. He couldn't bite back the scream of agony.

"I'm afraid YOU don't know what YOU'RE dealing with!" Grimhilde threw back her head and laughed. A ring of fire sprang up around the unicorns, growing ever smaller, threatening to turn them all into a pyre.

"No…no, not again…" a profusely sweating Even babbled.

"You know, perhaps THEY'LL be my next accessories," Cruella laughed. "That jet-black mane would make a lovely set of gloves, wouldn't it?"

"There won't be any mane left of them," Grimhilde said wickedly.

Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, and Wuya skidded in behind the harpy and the Diamond Dog. Wuya could just catch glimpses of her associates through the ring of fire. "Now, NOW!" she barked. "Before it's too late!"

Grimhilde and Cruella spun to face the trio of fillies and their chaperone with a simultaneous "WHAT?"

"You think you can mess with ponies like that?" Apple Bloom snapped. "Well, think again! C'mon, girls! ELEMENTS…OF…HARMONY!"

The trio was surrounded by a sphere of light, the crystals rotating about them glowing ever brighter. Had Grimhilde thought to go for the gems, she might have successfully disarmed them. However, her mistake was to flick a wing directly at the bodies of the three fillies, casting a great wave of fire at them. The flames flickered uselessly around the sphere of light, inside of which the new Element bearers were levitating off the ground. Grimhilde cast another spell, this time one of cold winds and ice. At the same time, a striking rainbow arced forth from the light sphere, knocking the chilly spell aside as it wrapped Grimhilde in color.

Cruella watched in shock as Grimhilde, completely surrounded by rainbow light, cried out in defeat: "No…NO…NOOOOOOOOOO!" Her body began to petrify, becoming granite from the claws up. When all was said and done, Grimhilde was transformed entirely into a stone statue.

The light subsided, and Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo dropped onto the grass. At the same time, the circle of flame surrounding Mozenrath, Even, Mim, and Aghoul doused itself, and the Graviga lifted, prompting its prisoners to stand. Cruella, looking for all the world like she was caught in the headlights of her own vehicle, hoisted Grimhilde up over her head and made a run for their shared Gummi ship. At least they would get away with the Crystal Heart.

"Well." Even used one hoof to dust off his chest. "THAT is an experience I would rather not repeat."

Mozenrath staggered once on his feet. His muscles still shivered from the direct hit by lightning, and his heart was thumping at a high rate. He wondered how much voltage had been put through him. He decided then and there that electricity was his least favorite form of magic. Trying not to quiver, he turned toward the fillies; "If it isn't our heroes of the hour. How can we ever repay you for saving our skins? Oh, wait. I know. By doing this."

He focused on the crystal of Magic, and it zoomed away from Sweetie Belle so it could circle around Mozenrath instead. The other five crystals dropped to the ground; Mozenrath summoned the Generosity crystal to himself as well. Mim took up Loyalty, Aghoul took up Honesty, Even took up Kindness, and Wuya took up Laughter.

"HEY!" Scootaloo stomped a hoof. "Those are OURS!"

"Not anymore," Wuya laughed.

The fillies backed into each other as Mozenrath, Even, Wuya, Mim, and Aghoul formed a circle around them. "What should we do with them?" Mim asked, a wicked grin forming across her face.

"The unicorn might be useful if we can find a way to utilize her power," Mozenrath decided. "I don't see how the other two can be of any use to me, though. Might as well dispose of the witnesses while we still have the upper hand in keeping a lower profile."

"You were the good guys!" Apple Bloom protested in a panic.

"WRONG!" Mim cackled. "We're the WORST of the worst!"

"LEAVE THEM ALONE!" a voice boomed; a shockwave of deep blue magic radiated outward from the three fillies and sent the five unicorns staggering. Luna quickly galloped toward the Cutie Mark Crusaders, taking them under her wing.

When Mozenrath regained his balance, he realized Twilight had taken a position in front of him, staring him down. "You lied to me?" she said in shock.

"To be fair, I never said my interest in the magic of this world WASN'T so I could collect it for myself," Mozenrath told her, still fighting the quivering in his bones.

"I thought you were different," Twilight told him. "I thought we were…friends."

"And you know, maybe we could have been if you weren't the kind of person who thinks she can play hero," Mozenrath replied. "I value knowledge like yours. Guess I'm just going to have to settle for taking on Even instead."

Even replied with a derisive snort.

"Maybe you could have done good things with your power," Twilight told him. "But you would never do that, would you?"

"Now you're getting the idea."

Twilight's eyes were visibly watering, and Mozenrath somehow found he couldn't bring himself to taunt her about it. She really did have a mind that qualified her to work with his associates. It was altogether too bad her heart was in the wrong place for it. "If you'll excuse me," he told her, "I'll be taking these." He motioned with his head toward the two crystals that orbited his body.

"NO!" Twilight sent a blast of magic toward Mozenrath. He knew she would aim for the crystals, and so he put up a blue deflection shield around himself in the shape of a dome. He smirked proudly at her until his front knees collapsed and he was brought to the ground. Using magic was a strain in his current condition.

"Run," Luna told Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo. The fillies gladly did so, taking off in the direction of Ponyville. Luna stared down Wuya, Even, Mim, and Aghoul.

"You can't think you can take on all five of us," Wuya taunted.

A cold wind blew around Luna, and her eyes glowed brightly, obscuring iris and pupil with white light.

"Please tell me you're the one casting that wind," Wuya hissed to Even.

"I wish I could," he retorted.

Luna flapped her wings, rising into the air; there was an audible thunderclap in the skies above.

"DO YOUR WORST!" Mim challenged, bracing herself.

Luna's horn glowed deep blue, and she summoned forth a horde from deep within the Everfree Forest. Hundreds of spiders, each the size of the average hoofprint, rushed forth, crawling upon Mim, Aghoul, Wuya, and Even.

"That tickles!" Mim laughed.

"Why, hello, cuties!" Aghoul giggled.

The others weren't reacting quite as gladly to the rush of spiders. Wuya shrieked, throwing herself to the ground to attempt to roll them away and crush them. Even swiped at them with a hoof, his voice growing higher and higher in pitch as he cried, "Get them off me! GET THEM OFF ME!"

Giving one last effort, Mozenrath channeled the dome of magic, transferring it into a beam of energy that surged toward Twilight. Twilight braced herself, surrounding herself with a dome of her own; Mozenrath's magic settled in as a dome over it, trapping her. "What…?" Twilight looked around herself, stunned. Her own shield fell, and she fired a beam at the inside of the blue dome, only for it to dissipate upon contact.

"Take the Elements and GO!" Mozenrath snarled.

Wuya and Even were all too glad to oblige, taking off so fast the spiders flew off them. Mim and Aghoul followed, and Mozenrath placed himself in the lead.

"And all because Wuya and Even had to be babies over a few spiders!" Mim huffed.

"I wasn't able to identify if their bites were venomous!" Even argued.

"They were just love bites," Aghoul told him.

"If you weren't already dead," Even huffed, "you would be now."

"Oh, please," Mim scoffed. "Like those do-gooder princesses would POISON us to death."

Mozenrath's legs gave out, and he collapsed to the ground. The others got a few paces away before turning back to face him in concern. "Don't," Mozenrath snarled, trying to position his legs beneath him to force his body back to standing.

"You don't have any say in what we don't do anymore," Wuya told him, surrounding him in a bright aura and levitating him.

From within the dome that trapped her, Twilight felt the dismay within her harden into rage. She put her mind toward powers she'd once seen Celestia display, powers she'd used to reveal the dark secrets of the Crystal Empire's palace when it was still threatened by Sombra. A surge of Dark magic rushed through her, bursting through her horn and shattering the dome.

"YOU SHALL NOT GET AWAY!" Luna boomed, her voice taking on an unearthly volume as she and Twilight gave chase to the escaping unicorns.

"Corridor!" Even snapped. "To the ship! NOW!"

Aghoul obliged, casting a portal. He, Even, Mim, and Wuya fled through, taking the crystals and the downed Mozenrath with them. The portal closed just as twin beams of magic surged toward it, attempting to grip the five unicorns and drag them back.

"We're too late," Luna observed, skidding to a stop. Twilight did the same, gritting her teeth in anger as she watched where Mozenrath had vanished.

Luna turned to face her companion. "Twilight!" she gasped.

"WHAT?" Twilight snapped back.

"Your eyes…"

Twilight hadn't realized that the Darkness had begun to leak out of the corner of her eyes, the way it had done to Celestia when she'd first used Darkness to show Twilight what the fate of the Crystal Empire would be if Sombra regained power; the way it always had done to Sombra. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head until the wisps of Darkness subsided. "I can't believe I thought he was…"

"It is all right." Luna put a wing over Twilight.

"He didn't try to kill me, though" Twilight observed. "Just…trap me."

"Do not read into it, Twilight. Who knows what he was thinking?"

"At least the girls are safe," Twilight sighed. "But the Empire…and now they have the Elements…"

"We must return to the Empire to deliver the news," Luna told Twilight.

A flickering in their peripheral vision made them both turn; black, thorny vines were forcing their way up throught the ground and winding around the trees of the Everfree Forest.

"The Plunderseeds!" Twilight realized. "Without the Elements, the Tree of Harmony can't hold them back!"

Luna cast a Corridor of her own. "Hurry, Twilight! We must alert the others!"

As the two unicorns disappeared into the portal, the creeping vines thickened, twisting their way toward Ponyville.

The laugh of a draconequus who was very, very amused could be heard faintly in the distance to anypony close enough to listen.

...

For quite a while, Ruby did nothing but sit quietly in her chair and worry. She had tried to strike up a conversation with Sans; "Soooooooo…what do you think about…"

A loud snore cut her off. Sans was still fast asleep.

"Okay, you're still sleeping, then," Ruby muttered. "That's okay. I'm fine on my own. Not lonely or anything. It's cool."

After worrying in place for long enough, she took out her scroll to wear down its battery by playing a mobile game. Nearby, Lyons' eyes were fixed upon a computer screen.

The door creaked, and Undyne and Alphys came through. Ruby's eyes instantly flicked to them. "Hi!" She waved fervently.

"H-hi," Alphys replied shyly, stepping a few paces behind Undyne.

"You can be here," Lyons told her without looking away from his screen, "so long as you don't interfere with police work."

"I know, I know!" Undyne sighed.

"It was getting c-c-cold out there," Alphys said softly.

"Well, there are empty seats if you want 'em." Ruby patted Sora's chair.

Undyne slumped back in one, and Alphys settled herself in the adjacent seat. "So," Undyne asked with a nod toward Sans, "how long has he been out?"  
"I think a couple hours now," Ruby replied.

The group was made vaguely aware of the sound of a car pulling into one of the parking spaces outside the station. Lyons tore his eyes away from the computer to glance over at the door. "Hello," he greeted. "How can I help – "

He knew from the moment he saw the masked man and his female cohort, also masked, that they didn't mean well. "You can stand down," the Huntsman threatened.

Lyons stood, sensing trouble. He was immediately hit with a blast from the huntstaff that sent him stumbling back to the floor, one arm twisted and broken.

"OFFICER LYONS!" Ruby rushed to the fallen man, eyes twitching back to her seat, under which was the case for her weapon.

The Huntsman turned to Neo. "You go for the souls. I'll take care of the beasts."

Neo gave a longing look back to Lyons, not wanting to leave the job unfinished.

Undyne had also risen from her seat, rushing forth to grab Neo by the shoulders in hopes of giving her a piece of her mind, either verbally or physically. Neo, however, twisted and dodged, slipping behind Undyne and dealing a kick to her lower back that sent the warrior sprawling out across the floor.

"UNDYNE!" Alphys shrieked.

Neo whipped out her blade, but the Huntsman put a hand on her shoulder; he was only able to do so because she allowed it. "The souls first," he told her. "Then you may do as you wish."

He and Neo took off running into the depths of the station together.

"I'm sorry!" Ruby told Lyons before the man could manage to get a word in. "But I have to stop them from doing…whatever they're doing before they hurt Papyrus!"

As Ruby darted first to her case to grab her scythe – Lyons really regretted not checking out that case earlier – and then down the hall after the pair of villains with Undyne in close pursuit, Lyons reached for his radio to call for backup.

"Th-this is awful!" Alphys gasped.

She was met with another loud snore.

"S-Sans!" she snapped with all the disapproval she could muster. "Are you seriously s-sleeping at a time like this?"

Sans shifted positions ever slightly, not about to wake up for anything short of the end of the world.

Partway down the hall, Neo's eyes alit upon the word "EVIDENCE" stamped on one of the doors. Recognizing her goal, she flung open the door and slipped inside. The Huntsman continued down to the end of the hall, where he found himself facing the bars that made up one of the walls of the holding cell.

"Who's there?" Asgore called out in concern as he and Papyrus turned to see who had entered.

Beneath his mask and balaclava, the Huntsman was grinning madly. "Your end is here, monsters," he announced, readying the huntstaff.

Asgore protectively stepped out in front of Papyrus, putting out a hand. His magical aura flickered within it only briefly, then winked out.

"Of course," the Huntsman very nearly chuckled. "The humans here are used to magic. They would have fortified the cell so that prisoners could not use it from the inside." His staff glowed brightly.

The weapon was hooked and pulled aside by Crescent Rose; Ruby's silver eyes stared the Huntsman's red ones down hard as behind her, Undyne barged into the evidence room after Neo. Ruby pulled hard on the scythe, jerking at the huntstaff; the Huntsman flicked the weapon out of the grip of Ruby's own. "You would protect these vermin?" he growled.

"I'm protecting my FRIENDS!" Ruby insisted, swinging Crescent Rose around to try and break the shaft of the huntstaff in two. The Huntsman let the shaft parry the blow; the staff was too durable for her ploy. Twice more the weapons spun through the air and clashed against each other before Ruby realized she had to do something different. She ducked; the huntstaff sailed over her head. When she came up, Crescent Rose slashed twice against the bars, and a large section of that wall fell in, offering Asgore and Papyrus passage out of the cell.

Stepping out of the cell's confines, Asgore, desperate to stop any harm from coming to Ruby or Papyrus, filled his hands with flame, launching them toward the Huntsman in a fiery rain. The Huntsman twirled his staff fast enough to deflect the spell, making sure that when he brought it out of the spin, it smacked directly into Ruby's stomach, sending her skidding down the hallway.

"RUBY!" Papyrus ran after the girl, who had landed flat on her back just outside the evidence room. As Ruby sat up, dizzied, she turned her head to look inside the nearby room and gasped at what she saw; Papyrus looked and did the same.

When Neo had diverted her course toward the evidence room, she had expected the six souls to be stored somewhere relatively obvious. She was right. In six glass canisters, they rested against the far wall, each taking the form of a heart shape with a different bright color: light blue, dark blue, orange, violet, yellow, and green. It only took one sweep for her to collect the canisters in her enchanted purse.

"YOU!" Undyne barked from the doorway. "PUT THOSE BACK!"

Neo turned; Undyne grinned madly, sure she had stricken at least a little fear into her opponent's heart. Neo stared back, and Undyne was unaware that Neo was bearing a grin of her own beneath her mask. What Undyne did see was Neo's eyes, and she suddenly realized she recognized them, as well as the woman's body shape. This was the same woman Undyne had faced on the beach. "So it's you," Undyne remarked. "I was hoping we'd meet again. I still have to teach you a lesson!"

Neo brandished her blade outward at Undyne.

"You don't scare me," Undyne told Neo. "Does THIS scare YOU?"

Neo was suddenly surrounded by almost innumerable spears crafted of blue energy, hovering in the air, all pointed down at her. She wasn't fazed in the slightest. When they plunged toward her, she began to duck, to dodge, to dip, to twirl. Every single spear was evaded, simply striking the floor hard enough to shake it before dissipating. Neo danced ever closer to Undyne, knowing she'd have to be careful and not get in a position where Undyne could freeze her aura again. Undyne lost track of Neo among the rain of spears up until she felt the shooting pain in her thigh that indicated Neo had run it right through with her sword.

Undyne grunted, falling to her knees as Neo withdrew the blade. Neo darted to Undyne's other side, ready to drive the blade through her other leg. She didn't just want Undyne to die; she wanted the warrior to suffer. However, her blade clashed immediately against a small fence, or perhaps it was more accurately a large shield, composed of enormous magical bright blue bones that had sprung up in between Undyne and Neo. After Papyrus had cast the shield, Ruby sprang up on top of it, converting Crescent Rose to a rifle and aiming it down at Neo. "Leave my friends ALO – " she began.

She was stopped short. She saw what Undyne had seen: the eyes, the shape of her body. But unlike Undyne, Ruby could put a name to those looks, and it was a name she feared: "Neo?"

Neo immediately took advantage of Ruby's surprise, leaping up and kicking Ruby back down over the fence before taking her place standing above it.

"PAPYRUS!" Ruby yelled. "CLOSE US IN!"

Papyrus rushed to where Undyne crouched and Ruby was scrambling to her feet, summoning more bones to create a circle around the triad. Neo, looking down in, realized that jumping into such an enclosed space with three warriors of that power was an idiot's play. Had she a ranged weapon with which to pick them off, it would have been the other way around, but it was they who had ballistics and projectiles while she carried a blade. Neo gave up on Undyne, Ruby, and Papyrus in their miniature bastion, leaping up over them and darting out of the evidence room to take a turn in distinctly the direction of the front office.

Papyrus let enough of the bones fall to provide a gateway out. "STAY WITH UNDYNE!" he told Ruby. "I THINK SHE'S GOING TO HURT SOMEONE ELSE! I HAVE TO STOP HER!" He took off like cannon fire, bolting down the hall.

Undyne gave Ruby a hard shove. "Go after Papyrus!"

"But you – " Ruby replied, eyes fixed upon Undyne's wound.

"I'm fine!" Undyne grunted. "But if he goes up against someone who wants to kill him that bad, he's DEAD! UNDERSTAND?"

Ruby nodded firmly before speeding after Papyrus.

Out in the hallway, Asgore and the Huntsman were locked in close combat. The Huntsman's staff swung out again and again, only to fall short and pull back when Asgore provided another rush of flames. The Huntsman was soon reduced to the defensive, spinning his staff rapidly to block an onslaught of fire. He edged ever closer to Asgore, strategizing inside his mind. Once he was near enough, he made a bold move, dropping his staff for just a moment to reach for a cuff concealed on his person. His arm shot forward, clamping the black cuff on Asgore's arm. The flames ceased; Asgore found he could not produce any more.

"It stifles your magic," the Huntsman told him. "Here is where you meet your end, monster."

A blazing blue energy spear slammed down right between the Huntsman and Asgore. The Huntsman turned about to see its source. Undyne knew better than to put weight on her injured leg, but she powered through the act of holding it straight up in the air as she walked on her hands, and now she was only balancing on the palm of one hand as she used the other to direct her magic spears. "You know something?" she taunted. "I haven't had this much of a challenge in a WHILE!"

Ten spears accosted the Huntsman from the side, striking at his edges, missing his skin but piercing his clothing and pinning him to the wall. Asgore took the opportunity to push past him, scooping up Undyne to carry her out in his arms.

"PUT ME DOWN!" Undyne commanded, squirming. "I'm FINE!"

"YOU WON'T ESCAPE, MONSTERS!" the Huntsman roared, forcibly tearing free from the wall, ripping his cape right off and creating deep gashes in his shirt that showed glimpses of the great red reptilian birthmark that traversed his upper body.

Out in the front lobby, Neo skidded to a halt in front of Lyons. She turned to him, eyes flickering, as an idea occurred to her. She raised her blade.

Lyons responded by drawing and aiming his gun in his good hand; "Put your weapon down."

Neo was confident she would be quick to kill, but before she did, she wanted Lyons to know what an awful mistake he'd made, what a deed he had on his conscience. Her outline shimmered, and she took on the guise of Papyrus once more.

"I said PUT YOUR WEAPON DOWN!" Lyons bellowed. Now the pieces were falling into place; of course Papyrus would seemingly be in more than one place at the same time if someone was using magic to create his image…

Neo advanced. Lyons fired. Though Neo's blade was thin, she was still able to bring it up to exactly where it needed to be to deflect the bullet. She rushed Lyons, blade outward –

And suddenly found herself having to dance out of the way of a charging Alphys, who brandished her phone; the phone had been modified to act as a taser if needed, and its edge crackled with electricity.

That gave the real Papyrus enough time to skid into the room, followed shortly by Ruby. Papyrus and Lyons made eye contact before the skeleton put up a shield of blue bones in front of him to protect him from Neo.

"So YOU'RE why everyone thinks Papyrus killed somebody!" Ruby accused. "It was you the whole time!"

Neo, still wearing Papyrus' face, nodded proudly.

Asgore burst into the room with Undyne, the Huntsman in hot pursuit. Panicking, Ruby rushed to the far side of the room, toward the only person to not yet be involved in the fight. Grabbing the small skeleton's shoulders, she shook him hard: "Sans! SANS! WAKE UUUUUUP!"

Sans just snored harder, in the midst of a very good dream about ketchup and sledding.

"THAT'S NOT GOING TO WORK," Papyrus said forlornly.

Lyons' call for backup was then answered. A host of officers burst into the station from all available doors, guns brandished.

Lyons peered around the shield of bones. "It's him!" he cried, using his good hand, still with a gun in it, to point at the Huntsman. "And one of the skeletons isn't the real Papyrus! Don't shoot any of them! It's someone using magic!"

All firearms were pointed in the Huntsman's direction. "Drop your weapon," one of the officers ordered.

"I would rather kill you all," the Huntsman replied. He braced his staff, stepping forward, ready to make a run and cut down as many as he could.

Several of the guns fired; he was ready for that, spinning the staff to deflect them. As another salvo went off, the bullets appeared to pierce their target, only for what looked like the Huntsman to shatter like glass until there was nothing there. The officers then became aware that one of the skeletons was missing.

A car revved into gear outside, speeding backward out of the parking lot.

"They're in a car!" one of the officers barked.

The Huntsman was back at the wheel of the car, with Neo, now resembling a human in her standard clothes, in the back seat. He had been more than ready to fight the crowd, but when Neo presented him with an illusion to use to escape, he realized it was far more convenient to simply take it. He practically floored it, taking the car up the streets of Knightdock as the sounds of sirens indicated pursuit. Flashing lights of red and blue appeared in the Huntsman's rear view mirror.

Neo twisted around in the back seat, getting up on her knees to wave out the window at the pursuing police cars. The Huntsman wasn't sure exactly what she did, but he was aware of the moment when every single police car turned down a side street, abandoning the Huntsman's car completely, and he knew it was her doing. He took advantage of the moment to speed toward Mt. Ebott as quickly as he could. His hands were tight on the wheel, and his teeth were gritted.

Neo tapped him on the shoulder, opening her purse to show him the miniaturized canisters with the souls inside.

"I am well aware that we got what Mozenrath wanted," the Huntsman growled. "But we did not get what we came for."

Back at the station, Lyons' adrenaline simmered down just enough for him to finally feel the pain of his injured arm full force. "Request medical," he ordered. "For me and for her." He set his gun down, using his good hand to gesture toward Undyne.

"WHAT exactly are Asgore and Papyrus doing out of their cells?" another officer asked.

"And what is SHE holding?" A third gestured toward Ruby's Crescent Rose.

"They were defending themselves…and me…from those two," Lyons explained, collapsing back into his chair, his arm shooting new pain through his body. "And I think we have proof that Papyrus isn't our man after all. We should have thought of magic earlier. Of course monsters could use it to change shape…" He shook his head. "No. The person I saw was human. Not a monster. They both were."

"What about Papyrus?" Ruby asked worriedly, looking toward the taller skeleton in the room. "Is that the real one?"  
"I SINCERELY HOPE I AM THE REAL ONE," Papyrus answered.

"That's the real one," Undyne sighed.

All were suddenly aware of a stirring at the side of the room; Sans stretched out his arms as he stumbled into wakefulness. "what'd i miss?" he asked innocently.

...

Sora and Frisk knew that once they approached the entrance – or perhaps it was the exit – of Mt. Ebott, the passage leading back into the castle, they had to proceed with caution. They checked around every corner before entering a room and they spoke in hushed tones.

When they gingerly entered the throne room, Frisk looked around at all the notes that had been pinned to the walls. "Those weren't here when I left," they informed Sora in a whisper. "Someone else was using this room."

"I'm guessing Roman or his friends," Sora whispered back.

They proceeded into Judgment Hall, where the twelve-pointed design on the floor stood out. "What do you think this is?" Sora asked, tilting his head.

"It looks like someone's trying to summon something from another plane," Chara suggested.

"I have no idea," Frisk volunteered. "I've never seen anything like this before. Though…maybe it's supposed to summon something?"

"Then what are those for?" Sora pointed to the crystal and the small case, blissfully unaware of what was inside.

Frisk just shook their head.

The sound of hard shoes clicking against the floor alerted them to an approaching presence. "Hide!" Frisk hissed. They and Sora ducked behind a nearby column, staying close to the wall.

Yzma entered from the far door just as Snatcher and Roman exited the hall branching off to their quarters. "You two will be glad to know what I've been working on in the lab – " she began.

"Have you seen the Huntsman?" Snatcher interrupted her.

"He's been quiet for WAY too long," Roman added.

"If he's gone and done something imbecilic to upset the entire plan…" Snatcher ran his hands over his hair and down the back of his neck in a nervous gesture.

"I'm sure he's somewhere in this mountain," Yzma told him. "After all, this kingdom is quite large. For all we know, he's somewhere in the Snowlands or whatever they're called. I haven't seen Neopolitan in a while either. Doesn't mean she's taken off to ruin our schemes."

"Unless she's gone with him," Snatcher pointed out.

"Why would Neo go anywhere with the Huntsman?" Yzma replied in exasperation.

"Because Neo likes to kill things!" Roman reminded her. "And the Huntsman likes to kill things!"

Sora chanced a glance around the column; all three villains were too engrossed in their conversation to notice the flash of movement. Quickly ducking back into his hiding place, he leaned down to whisper to Frisk in the quietest of voices: "I recognize two of them. I think one is Roman. The other was definitely with him last time they were causing trouble. I don't know who that woman is, but I bet she means trouble too!"

"I'm sure you're worrying about nothing," Yzma sighed. "Here. Let me show you." She removed her scroll from a pocket, tapping at its screen. "I'll just call him and – "

The beat of a rock song echoed through the hall. "You just called MY phone," Roman sighed.

"THAT'S your ringtone?" Yzma said in awe.

"Just – " Roman plucked the scroll from his pocket, answering it. "Just shut up," he told Yzma through the scroll. "I'LL call him." He hung up on the connection with Yzma, beginning another call.

"But seriously," Yzma grunted, "of all the songs you could have picked for your scroll, you had to pick the one that makes my ears literally BLEED every time it turns up on the radio."

"Your ears don't LITERALLY bleed," Snatcher retorted.

"As far as you know, they might," Yzma snapped.

"I am TRYING to make a call!" Roman barked, sending both of the others into silence. After a pause, he sighed. "Voicemail." He hung up. "All right. Let's try this. Now texting Neo…" His fingers danced across the screen. "Where…are…you?"

"Tell her she better not be screwing things up," Yzma suggested.

"No thank you," Roman replied. "I actually DON'T have a death wish."

"We should go," Frisk whispered to Sora. "We have to tell everyone they're here!"

"Okay," Sora said with a nod. "We just have to wait for them to leave so we can – "

At that moment, Snatcher was beginning a long pace down the hall: "If he goes and does something like murdering those monsters, he could lead the authorities right back to our base, and who knows where we'd be THEN – "

He passed Sora and Frisk's column, glimpsing them first in his peripheral vision. As he turned to face them directly, they froze. For a moment, Frisk, Sora, and Snatcher were locked in a silent stare of shock.

Then Snatcher's face folded into a sneer.

"Uh-oh," Sora muttered.

"Look what we have here!" Snatcher announced as he gripped Sora and Frisk by the backs of their shirts and shoved them into the center of the hall.

"Spies?" Yzma spat.

"I was thinking more along the lines of…" Snatcher's sneer did not fade. "The next two victims of the monsters."

"You had something to do with framing Papyrus," Sora accused, "didn't you?"

"Why, I'm certain I've no idea what you're talking about," Snatcher replied, hands moving toward his weapon.

Sora, sensing what was to come, summoned the Keyblade in a brilliant flash, brandishing it defensively. Roman, Snatcher, and Yzma all flinched; Roman was the first to recover. "So, you think you're a little hunter wannabe, don't you?"

"Hold on." Snatcher took a better look at Sora. "I've seen you before."

"And I've seen you!" Sora snapped. "In Remnant, when you messed everything up!"

"So," Yzma deduced, "you've been stalking us!" She was already hiking her skirt to reach for her atlatl.

"Well, you've followed us to the LAST world, boy," Snatcher growled, pistol and bludgeon in hand.

"Frisk, RUN!" Sora yelled.

Frisk attempted to dart down the hallway, but Snatcher, Yzma, and Roman repositioned, blocking them off. All three fired their weapons, two elemental blasts and a dart careening toward Frisk at the same time.

"FRISK!" Sora cried in horror.

But at the very last minute, Frisk dodged, slipping past all three blows before turning to run down the opposite end of the hall. Roman and Snatcher kept blasting at them; Yzma loaded up another dart. With only a brief backward glance, Frisk was able to keep zigzagging out of the way. "This way!" they called out to Sora. "Don't fight! Just run!"

Sora wanted to stay and fight, sure he could take on Snatcher, Roman, and Yzma all by himself. However, he wasn't sure Frisk could keep dodging blows that long. He turned to follow Frisk out of the hall.

They bolted, and the trio of ne'er-do-wells gave chase. Frisk first led Sora to an elevator, waving him inside. The doors closed just before a dart ricocheted harmlessly but loudly off them and one of Roman's blasts shook the foundation. Frisk jammed the controls to take the elevator to the lowest level.

"There's a river," Frisk explained quickly. "I think it goes all the way up here. If we can get to it and find some kind of raft, it can take us to the other exit on the other side of – "

"Um, excuse me?" Chara interrupted. "We're not just going to casually float to safety with three of the bad guys in hot pursuit."

"…Never mind," Frisk finished. "That's not fast enough. We need to find another way."

"A raft could be fast," Sora assured Frisk. "I could MAKE it fast."

"How?"

"With magic!"

"He better know what he's talking about," Chara grumbled.

"I hope you know what you're talking about," Frisk muttered.

The elevator doors opened, and the pair could hear the not-too-distant footsteps of Roman, Snatcher, and Yzma, who had found a stairway. "That way!" Frisk yelled, pointing in the direction of the river.

"Okay!" Sora grabbed Frisk's hand to take them along all the more quickly.

Upon Sora touching her host body, Chara let out a high-pitched squealing noise of pure joy that made Frisk flinch.

A raft was already parked on the bank of the river, left there by the ferryperson. It took Frisk and Sora only moments to drag it into the water and climb aboard. On the horizon, Yzma, Snatcher, and Roman were coming into view, all weapons raised.

Sora pointed his Keyblade directly back over the river: "WIND!" An Aerora blast cycloned out from the massive key, propelling the boat forward just before one of Yzma's darts landed in the water where it had been. "WIND!" Another propulsion of wind took it just enough out of the way that Snatcher's lightning fell short. The three villains were soon specks in the distance, though that didn't stop them from continuing to fire at the boat.

"DON'T LET THEM GET AWAY!" Yzma screeched loud enough for Frisk and Sora to hear long after leaving her behind.

"What now?" Sora asked Frisk.

"Can you keep us going the rest of the way down the river?" Frisk asked.

"I'll do my best!" Sora replied with a smile.

"There's another way out of the mountain, and we'll probably lose them on the way," Frisk explained. "But it's a while until we get there, so I'm going to start calling. I'm going to tell as many monsters as I can that we found the bad guys we were looking for!"

"And I," Chara insisted, "am going to sit back and enjoy the ride next to this cutie."

Sora nodded. "Sounds like a plan!" He turned to fire another spell out the back of the raft: "WIND!"

...

Papyrus' red automobile sped (within reasonable limits) down the roads of Knightdock, tailing the ambulance that was transporting Undyne and Alphys to the hospital. Ruby sat next to him up front; Sans had been awake for fully seven minutes before going back to sleep in the back seat.

"THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING YOU DID," Papyrus told Ruby. "I HAD THE WHOLE SITUATION UNDER CONTROL, OF COURSE, BUT IT NEVER HURTS TO HAVE A LITTLE HELP!"

"I'm just glad you're okay," Ruby replied. "We make a pretty good team, don't we?"

"I'LL SAY WE DO!"

Ruby stared out the side of the car for a moment, the night air whipping up her dark hair. "I was going to say it was too bad we'd have to leave you behind when we moved on," she brought up, "but…well, maybe I shouldn't ask this without Sora here, but something tells me he won't mind. Would you…maybe wanna come along with us to other worlds?"

"WOULD I?" Papyrus was practically squealing with delight. "OF COURSE I WOULD! I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M ACTUALLY BEING OFFERED THE CHANCE! WHAT WILL I SAY WHEN I GET THERE? WHAT WILL I DO?"

"Well, you could always start by shopping for cinnamon rolls," Ruby joked.

Papyrus' phone began to ring. "DO YOU MIND?" he asked, holding the phone out to Ruby. "ONE SHOULDN'T USE THE PHONE AND DRIVE, AFTER ALL!"

Ruby put the phone to her ear; "Hello?"

"I think I have the wrong number," a voice replied. "I was looking for my friend – "

"If you're looking for Papyrus, this is his phone," Ruby told the voice. "He's just driving right now, so you get to talk to me! My name is Ruby Rose! What's yours?"

"Ruby!" The voice on the other end sounded a lot happier then. "This is Frisk!"

"Hi, Frisk!" Ruby chirped.

"IT'S FRISK?" Papyrus gasped. "HELLO, BEST FRIEND! TELL THEM I SAID HELLO!"

"Papyrus says 'Hello, best friend!'" Ruby related.

"I heard," Frisk giggled. Their voice immediately turned somber: "Listen, I don't have much time. Sora and I found out where…um…what was his name…?"

Ruby heard Sora muttering something in the background; then Frisk continued: "Roman Torchwick. We found out where he's hiding out."

"WHAT?" Ruby nearly dropped the phone.

"WHAT IS IT?" Papyrus asked in a panic.

"They found Torchwick!" Ruby informed him.

"He and some other bad guys are hiding out in Mt. Ebott," Frisk went on. "You have to tell EVERYONE. Sora and I are trying to escape right now!"

"We'll come get you as soon as we can!" Ruby promised.

"Make sure you tell the others first," Frisk emphasized. "They're pretty strong, but they can't take all of us together!"

"Got it!" Ruby affirmed before Frisk hung up the connection.

"WHAT'S GOING ON?" Papyrus asked.

"We need to make some calls," Ruby told him. "You have Toriel and Mettaton's numbers in here, right?"

...

Monster called monster, monster called human, and human called human. The name "Roman Torchwick" didn't mean much to them, but Ruby had been able to supply the connection: the associates of the one who'd framed Papyrus for murder were taking refuge in Mt. Ebott. Despite everything, there were a great many monsters and humans alike who cared for Papyrus, and when they heard that the one who had done him wrong as well as murdered an innocent child was now in reach, they wanted blood.

...

The raft reached a dock in Snowdin, at which point Frisk and Sora disembarked and ran madly through the Ruins at the far end of the mountain. Sora was curious as to why the Ruins seemed to resemble a house, not to mention one identical to the inner layout of the castle where they'd entered, but he figured such questions were for later.

He and Frisk skidded to a stop at the almost pitch-black end of a dark tunnel. "Look up," Frisk told Sora. Sora did so, and was able to see an opening in the stone far overhead through which the moon and stars shone. "That's the way out."

"How do we get up there?" Sora asked.

"I…didn't plan that far ahead," Frisk admitted.

There was a rustling from a corner of the cavern; Sora and Frisk braced themselves in fright, not knowing how quickly Yzma, Roman, and Snatcher had been able to catch up to their position. A tiny voice sounded out: "You're back?"

Frisk gasped. They'd completely forgotten, and they felt bad for forgetting.

"Oh, NO," Chara grumbled. "I KNEW you had a thing for him. I knew it."

"Who's there?" Sora called out.

"Who are YOU?" the voice replied in disdain.

"His name is Sora," Frisk told the voice. "He's my friend." They turned back to Sora. "Sora, this is another of my friends. His name is Asriel."

"Uh…hi, Asriel," Sora greeted. In order to get a better look at who he was talking to, he pointed the Keyblade, setting the end of it alight; "Fire!"

"Hey, hey, HEY!" Asriel snapped. "Watch where you're pointing that thing, will you?" Given the faint illumination from the end of the Keyblade, Sora could see that the bottom of the cavern was carpeted in large-petaled flowers, one of which was moving, recoiling away from the flames. Realizing that Asriel was the flower, Sora stepped back, not wanting to burn him.

"Why did you come back?" Asriel asked. "You know nothing's changed."

"Not yet, anyway," Frisk replied. "I still think maybe one day…" They shook their head. "Asriel, you have to hide. We're being chased, and we're trying to get out."

"Me? Hide?" Asriel forced a laugh. It was then that Sora realized he hadn't been able to really detect any true emotion in Asriel's voice from the moment the flower had begun speaking. "Did you forget everything I can do, Frisk? I don't need to hide from anything. But if you need to get out of here…I can help you."

"Thank you so much," Frisk said gratefully. "I promise we'll come back for – "

"Don't, okay? Just don't. Because I know you won't. You'll want to. But you'll never find a way to change anything."

Sora, listening to it all, couldn't help but wonder exactly what had happened between Frisk and Asriel. "You never know," he offered. "Sometimes, when it looks darkest – "

"Weren't you being chased?" Asriel cut him off. "Or did you WANT whoever it was to catch up and kill you?"

Sora became aware of a movement going up the cavern wall. Repositioning his Keyblade torch, he saw a network of roots and vines climbing up the wall in the shape of a ladder.

"Don't just leave him without – " Chara began.

"I won't," Frisk promised out loud.

"Won't what?" Asriel and Sora asked in unison.

"Chara says hi," Frisk told Asriel. "She misses you."

Asriel froze. "That isn't possible," he said, and now his tone was cold. "She's gone."

"I'll explain it when I see you again," Frisk vowed. "I promise." They put a testing hand on the vine ladder; it held weight. "I WILL see you again."

Asriel turned his face away.

Frisk scurried halfway up the ladder, and Sora followed. From below, they suddenly heard a tiny voice call out: "Frisk! I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay!" Frisk called back down to Asriel.

"What was all that about?" Sora asked Frisk.

"He used to have a soul, once," Frisk said by way of explanation as they continued to climb.

Down below in the darkness, Asriel knew what else he had to do. He had to make sure that whoever was chasing Frisk and Sora wouldn't get the chance to catch up. He turned his attention away from the cavern, ducking into the dirt to search underground.

Yzma, Snatcher, and Roman were startled when their pursuit was rudely interrupted; a set of vines sprang from the ground and wrapped around all six of their feet, sending them plunging to the ground face first.

"The HELL?" Roman snapped, kicking at the vines.

"Are the plants of this kingdom out to get us now?" Yzma groaned.

Snatcher had turned to methodically disentangling his feet; it almost seemed as though the vines had a grip on him. "This is not good in the slightest," he muttered. "Not good at all. You two…keep your scrolls on you and return to the castle."

"Why…?" Roman asked.

"Because," Snatcher told him, kicking the vines aside and starting work extricating Roman's feet, "there's a good chance they've gotten away by now. And if they betray our position, especially if the Huntsman has already gone and done something stupid…"

"Don't say it," Roman groaned.

"You just continue to attempt to contact the Huntsman and Miss Neopolitan," Snatcher ordered. "In the meantime, collect the Cornerstone and the Dust from the great hall."

"You're not suggesting we leave!" Yzma hissed.

"Believe me, it isn't by choice!" Snatcher was now working on the vines around her heels. "While you two secure preparations, I'll make a final attempt to locate and dispose of the witnesses!"

But it was in vain, as Asriel had already withdrawn the ladder. Frisk and Sora were making their way down the side of the mountain.

...

For having hooves instead of hands, Even was able to maneuver the Gummi ship surprisingly well, steering it into the abyss of interspace. Mozenrath had enough energy to join auras with Mim once more and return all five unicorns to human form not long after takeoff; after that, he collapsed into a chair, refusing to stand. He drove away the shame he felt at his weakened condition by raising his right hand and letting all six Elements of Harmony circle it lazily; this brought a smirk to his face.

"That could have gone worse," Wuya remarked.

"I still can't believe you were afraid of a few little spiders," Mim huffed.

"I am not afraid of spiders," Even grunted. "If I have to reiterate to you once more that I was merely being cautious of venom…"

"Drop it," Mozenrath ordered. "We have what we came for, and we managed to lose our pursuers in the process. All in all, I'd call it a good day." He thought it over. "Though it's probably been a few days back at Knightdock, hasn't it?"

"What?" Aghoul was confused.

"Time passes differently on different worlds," Even reminded him. "A wise traveler knows how to mark the rate on each he visits."

"So." Mozenrath glanced up at Wuya. "I guess I owe YOU my life. Try not to rub it in."

"Oh, I won't try one little bit," Wuya teased.

"And as for you, Even," Mozenrath continued. "You've been a surprising help throughout all of this. There just might be room for you back at home base."

Even's lips curled into a smile. "I was hoping to hear that," he admitted. "In fact, once we get to a place where valuable items can be more safely stored, I had hoped to ask a favor of you."

"And that favor is?" Mozenrath inquired.

"Remove my heart," Even told him. "I haven't the Dark magic necessary to accomplish such a feat. You have. You can rid me of countless senseless fears and attachments that hold me back from my true potential."

"And in return?" Mozenrath replied.

"In return, you won't have a finer geneticist among your ranks," Even promised. "I specialize in everything from memory harvest to replication."

"Useful things," Mozenrath admitted. "Not to mention the ice comes in handy."

"On occasion, it does indeed," Even agreed.

"All right," Mozenrath decided. "As soon as you're settled into our new home, you can say goodbye to your heart."

"I would still like to keep it close by," Even insisted. "In case."

"Understood."

"I have a caveat," Mim voiced.

"And that is…?" Even asked.

"We promise to remove your heart and make you one of the team," Mim told him, "and you let me control the guns for the rest of the flight home."

"But of course," Even sighed.

...

The Gummi ship landed on the side of Mt. Ebott just as the Huntsman and Neo arrived outside the entrance in the stolen car. Mozenrath, now re-energized, was the first to disembark the ship, followed by Even, Mim, Aghoul, and Wuya. He was rather dumbfounded to see the Huntsman and Neo exiting the car; he hadn't expected that pair to break away for a mission.

"Didn't expect to see you out here," he greeted.

"Mozenrath," the Huntsman said in return. "Welcome home. We had been wondering as to your whereabouts."

"It's a long story," Mozenrath replied, "but I think you'll like the ending." He held up a gauntleted hand, and the Elements circled it.

"I think you'll ESPECIALLY like the part where Mozenrath fell in love with a unicorn," Aghoul supplied.

Mozenrath shot him a glare. If looks could kill, it wouldn't have mattered, as Aghoul was already dead, but it certainly would have been a valiant attempt.

"We had a victory of our own," the Huntsman announced; Neo held her purse open so that the miniaturized canisters of souls were in view.

At that moment, Snatcher, Roman, and Yzma came jogging out of the mountain entrance. Yzma clutched the Cornerstone of Light, Roman had a firm grip on the Dust crystal, and Snatcher had an eye on the nearby Xerxes. "Lord Mozenrath!" Snatcher greeted, out of breath. "Excellent timing!"

"Why…?" Mozenrath grew suspicious as he looked over the items Yzma and Roman were carrying. "Why do you have those?"

"Don't freak out," Roman began. "We MIGHT not be in as much trouble as Archie thinks we are."

It started out as a low hum, then rose in volume: the sound of hundreds of voices yelling. Looking down the mountain, Mozenrath saw a veritable army of humans and monsters alike, summoned by calls that had stemmed from Frisk's to Papyrus and Ruby's to Toriel, gathering at the base, wielding flashlights and magical flames. Sirens soon punctuated the sound, and police cars pulled into view, not to break up the mob but to follow up on a tip that the one who'd framed Papyrus had been located. Though they were too far off to see, the ones leading the charge were Sora, Ruby, and Papyrus.

"They BETTER not be here because of why I think they are," Mozenrath growled.

The Huntsman stared Snatcher down; "I'll have you know this was not MY fault."

"What did you DO?" Mozenrath growled.

"As though it wasn't a matter of time until they found us anyway," Yzma sighed. "You only had to pick the most obvious landmark in town as our base!"

"We can take 'em!" Aghoul announced, summoning his scythe.

"That many?" Even barked. "We most certainly cannot!"

"So you're telling me," Mozenrath, "that the moment I get back to base, we already have to ABANDON IT?"

"Long story!" Snatcher told him, unceremoniously grabbing him by the arm to drag him back onto the Gummi ship. "We'll explain on the way!"

"But – " Mozenrath sighed, transitioning to silently fuming. He knew it was futile.

Down below, Sora, Ruby, and Papyrus watched as the Gummi ship containing now ten – eleven, if one cared to count Xerxes – evildoers zoomed away from the mountain, disappearing into the atmosphere.

"YOU DON'T THINK THAT WAS WHO WE WERE AFTER, DO YOU?" Papyrus asked.

"It probably was," Sora said forlornly.

And when the mob got to the back entrance of the mountain, the only trace they were able to find of the ne'er-do-wells at all was the twelve-pointed etching on the floor of Judgment Hall.


	20. Vexed

20\. Vexed

The gummi ship landed as inconspicuously as such a vehicle could pull off on the outskirts of Twilight Town, where Mozenrath led his nine disciples through the woods toward his next idea of a base.

"It's no underground mountain kingdom," he sighed, "but since you're all incapable of handling that kind of responsibility anyway – "

"I did NOTHING wrong!" the Huntsman growled.

"It's not as though we gave away our position intentionally!" Snatcher argued.

"Half of us weren't even there, and you know it!" Aghoul chimed in.

"…We'll just have to get used to smaller quarters," Mozenrath concluded.

"As though I can't just add more rooms," Wuya muttered.

"I heard that," Mozenrath told her, "and you're not going to. I want to take the last base as a learning experience. We'll have to keep an even lower profile than before."

"With what we're wearing?" Even sputtered. "Cocktail dresses and dragon skull helmets? Long coats and capes? We may as well tell everyone we walk up to on the street that we're planning long-term conquest of the multiverse!"

That froze everyone for a moment.

"You know what we must do," Even went on. "That is to say…blend in."

Everyone else was clearly uncomfortable with the prospect. "We'll table the suggestion for the next conference," Mozenrath said at last, clutching his dark cape protectively.

They came upon a clearing, and the manor from which the mages had tested out the Claymore program loomed above. "Welcome to home sweet home," Mozenrath introduced.

"I suppose it could be worse," Yzma sighed. "There will be room for a laboratory, will there not?"

"The basement should do," Mozenrath told her.

"I will be requiring a workspace as well," Even brought up.

"Then you and Yzma can work out how to share the basement," Mozenrath told him coldly.

Even didn't know Yzma well enough to protest, but he was already fuming at the prospect.

"I think the real question here is how many bathrooms it has," Wuya pointed out.

"I'm guessing fewer than ten," Mozenrath informed her forlornly.

"We have to SHARE BATHROOMS?" Yzma practically screeched.

"No problem," Roman decided. "I've gone months on end without showering before. I'll just do it again."

Snatcher was rather going to miss having his own shower. It was something he'd never been granted access to back in Cheesebridge, and while he'd thought he'd gotten quite accustomed to what most would consider filth and squalor, once Mozenrath had presented him with the marvels of indoor plumbing, he'd spent fully three hours on his first shower; the water had turned black. Though now, he supposed, sizing up the building, everyone's quarters would be squeezed tightly enough together that he would be heard singing (in both voices) in there anyway.

Mozenrath, Snatcher, Roman, Neo, Yzma, Mim, Aghoul, Wuya, the Huntsman, and Even entered the building and fanned out. While the others explored the branching hallways of the manor, Mozenrath focused his attention on the atrium. It was decorated by a glass case containing a sculpture of a castle. Mozenrath magically swept that aside, letting it topple against the wall, before carving a twelve-pointed design into the floor. The Cornerstone and the Dust crystal settled in where they had been on the counterpart design in Judgment Hall. Neo had transferred the six souls to Mozenrath upon their escape from Mt. Ebott, and he removed them from his purse now, letting the canisters grow to full size. With some careful jostling for space, he consolidated all six souls into one canister, where they fluttered against the walls like butterflies in a cage. This canister settled in on one of the free points of the design. Finally, Mozenrath produced the crystals that forged the Elements of Harmony. As he swept his hand over another free point of the design, a tiny silver-white tree, a miniature version of the Tree of Harmony, sprouted up and unfurled five branches. Mozenrath steered the crystals close to the tree; the trunk absorbed the crystal of Magic, and the other branches took in the other five gems. Already, the design seemed to hum with power. Mozenrath allowed himelf a smile of pride.

That feeling was dispelled when Even and Yzma came storming out of the library. "There is NOT enough room for both of us to work down there!" Yzma hissed.

"Not my problem," Mozenrath said dismissively, putting up his right hand before turning and stalking away from the disgruntled pair.

The Huntsman descended a stairway, intercepting Mozenrath. "I've counted the rooms," he announced, "and you may want to know the results."

"Go on," Mozenrath encouraged.

"There are five bathrooms throughout the entire building," the Huntsman reported, "and seven bedrooms."

"Then I suppose some of us will just have to share," Mozenrath resolved. "Not me, of course. I get my own room."

Soon enough, a conference was held in the lounge to the side of the atrium; the ten villains gathered around a broken table that Wuya wasted no time repairing.

"You said we would discuss the issue of our wardrobe," Even reminded Mozenrath.

Rolling his eyes dramatically, Mozenrath groaned, "All in favor of dressing however we want and letting people make whatever assumptions they will?"

Every hand but Even's went up.

"You will regret not listening to me on this point," Even muttered.

"The people here dress bizzarely anyway," Mim pointed out. "I've seen my share of capes around."

"We may have to cut back on public karaoke nights in the interest of drawing less attention to ourselves, though," Mozenrath pointed out.

"Are you saying that because you mean it, or because karaoke nights annoy you?" Yzma posed.

"Moving on." Mozenrath brushed her off. "Regarding the bedroom situation, the Huntsman tells me we only have seven bedrooms. Six of you will have to partner up. And before you ask, I get my own room, and that's not for argument."

Neo seized Mim's arm, practically bouncing up and down in her seat.

"Well, that's one set of roommates decided," Mozenrath observed. "Anyone else?"

"I SUPPOSE I can take one for the team and bunk with Archie," Roman volunteered before firing a wink in Snatcher's direction.

"That sounds more than satisfactory," Snatcher replied, his tone deep and sultry.

"Not sure how I didn't see that coming," Mozenrath muttered. A little louder: "Aaaaanyone else?"  
"Yzma wouldn't be that bad of a roommate, the more I think about it," Wuya suggested.

"I suppose there are worse people to room with than you," Yzma replied, looking to Wuya. "I'm in."

"We can all stake our claims later," Mozenrath concluded. "I know this isn't ideal, but I think we can make this work." He looked around the table to see if he could meet any approving gazes. The only pairs of eyes still filled with disdain were Even's, but since that was his default mood, Mozenrath counted it a unanimous agreement that the new base would suit their purposes well enough.

"On that note," Mozenrath said rather proudly, "dismissed."

...

Rainbow Dash swooped gracefully over the Everfree Forest, able to see from the tops of the trees that the Plunderseed vines were breaking through. As she skimmed over top of Ponyville, she could see the damage the vines were doing there, crawling up the sides of every building; ponies everywhere were trying to hack them down and beat them back. The damage continued far out from Ponyville to neighboring towns, forests, and fields. Through it all, Rainbow Dash could feel a tension in the air brought on by the feeling that something very important was missing, and she knew she was suffering the effects of the loss of the Crystal Heart.

Her path took her all the way back around to the central kingdom of Canterlot, where she pulled in for a landing in front of the great golden castle. She nodded to th guards as she walked in; they nodded in return.

Waiting for her in the throne room were Celestia, Luna, Cadance, Shining Armor, Twilight, Fluttershy, Rarity, Pinkie, and Applejack. "How'd it look?" Applejack asked.

Rainbow Dash shook her head. "Not good. There are Plunderseed vines EVERYWHERE. And you can so tell the Crystal Heart is gone."

"This is the end of Equestria, isn't it?" Rarity asked in a panic.

"This is far from the end of Equestria," Celestia stated firmly. "We have seen worse."

"But last time, we always had something to hold onto for hope, like the Elements of Harmony or the Crystal Heart," Twilight stated somberly. "Those are all gone now."

"I would wager that by now, the thieves would have taken those items to another realm," Luna theorized.

"Whaddaya mean 'another realm'?" Applejack asked.

"There are many worlds in existence besides our own," Luna explained. "From what you have told me and what I have seen, Mozenrath and his allies have strange powers that were unrecorded. It is entirely possible that they came from another world. As did the harpy and the Diamond Dog we saw."

"That's right," Twilight realized. "Tirek came from another world!"

"You don't suppose Mozenrath and the harpy were working together, do you?" Rarity asked with concern.

Twilight shook her head. "They seemed to be enemies."

"Probably all just an act they put on to throw us off the trail," Applejack suggested.

Twilight wanted to retort that she didn't think so, but she didn't have any reason to believe Mozenrath's sincerity could be defended at this point.

"We must account for all possibilities," Luna decided. "Perhaps they were working together; perhaps they were of rival factions."

"Whatever's going on, we have to do something about it," Twilight said sternly. "We can't just let them get away with this! Whatever world they went to, we have to follow them and get the Elements and the Crystal Heart back!"

"That is exactly what I plan to do," Luna stated. "However, it is a journey I believe I must undertake alone."

"Are you certain, sister?" Celestia asked in concern.

"Only if it is not too much of a burden to you to take on the rise and fall of the moon once more," Luna replied. "You did so while I was imprisoned in the moon. I believe you can do it again."

"That I can," Celestia confirmed. "But will you be all right on your own?"

"Please, do not doubt me, sister," Luna replied with a glare. "I have grown into something far beyond the filly you knew."

"You can't just go out there and leave us here!" Rainbow Dash insisted. "We're coming too!"

Luna shook her head. "Equestria needs somepony to give this land hope and search for solutions on this world. And I do not doubt there are solutions to these problems that do not involve the Crystal Heart or the Elements of Harmony, even if they seem temporary. The rest of you would do best to stay here and protect this land from within. After all, we do not know how many other enemies are out there, sizing us up now that we are weakened."

"I want to help any way I can," Twilight replied. "If that means going with you, then that's what I want to do. But if that means staying here…"

"I do believe Luna is right," Rarity announced. "I've no doubt most of us wish to partake in her adventure, but the fact of the matter is that the ponies here need us. We must look for a way to hold back the Plunderseeds in the meantime. After all, Plunderseeds have existed for over a thousand years. SOMEpony must have figured out a way to get rid of them. And Equestria hasn't HAD a Crystal Heart for a thousand years!"

"Maybe there's something in the library!" Pinkie Pie chirped.

"Twilight's library, or the Canterlot library?" Fluttershy asked.

"Why not both?" Pinkie suggested.

Cadance turned to Luna. "I believe I should go with you. Before you argue (and Luna had already opened her mouth to do just that), I want you to remember that it was my empire from which the Crystal Heart was stolen. As its princess, it's my responsibility to get it back."

Luna mulled it over. "Very well," she said at last. "You may come. However, know that the journey will be strange and dangerous. I know which world I plan to seek help upon first, and it is populated by very strange creatures."

"I'm ready," Cadance said with a nod. She turned to Shining Armor. "I'm sorry, but – "

"Don't apologize." Shining Armor shook his head. "You don't have anything to apologize for. You're right. It is the heart of your empire."

"Of our empire," Cadance reminded him.

"And someone has to stay behind to take care of that empire," Shining Armor retorted. "So it might as well be me!" He gave Cadance a smile. "I think I can handle it."

"Good luck out there!" Pinkie Pie squeaked, bounding up and down.

"Thank you," Luna replied. "We shall need it."

Cadance and Shining Armor embraced one last time. Luna and Celestia gave each other a parting nod. Then, as everypony else waved goodbye, Luna opened a Corridor of Darkness in the midst of the hallway. "Are you ready?" she asked Cadance.

"As I'll ever be," Cadance replied with somewhat of a nervous smile. She then entered the Corridor, disappearing into its dark depths. Luna followed, and the portal vanished.

...

As Mozenrath made his way down through the library to the subterranean chambers of the mansion, he encountered Wuya making her way up. "I've just finished setting up the laboratory," she informed Mozenrath, shoving an object at his chest; he grasped it out of a reflex. "I'm going to go put my feet up and not do any magic for five hours. Don't interrupt me unless you want to die."

As Wuya made her exeunt, Mozenrath inspected the item he gripped a little more closely. It was a roll of purple glitter-spangled duct tape.

That was only a preview of what was to come when he passed the computer terminal room and entered the larger chamber that had been converted into a laboratory. A pair of shining metal counters with pipelines that hooked up to various burners had been installed by the ever-creative Wuya, and the counters were stocked with all sorts of lab equipment. One counter was laden with distillation equipment, a mortar and pestle, and beakers in strange, twisted shapes. The other held orderly, straight beakers and graduated cylinders, as well as microscopes and metal tools ranging from large to very fine. It was easy to tell whose side of the lab was whose, especially since Yzma was situated at the former counter and Even at the latter.

"How are my two little lab rats getting along?" Mozenrath asked cheerfully.

"Don't ever call me that again," Yzma and Even responded as one before glaring daggers at each other for even daring to reply in unison.

"We've reached an agreement of sorts," Even stated calmly. "Yzma stays on her half of the laboratory, and keeps all her effects there, and I do the same on mine. You can see the dividing line."

Looking down, Mozenrath saw where a line of purple glitter tape had been laid down across the length of the floor.

"You'll notice it is slightly off center," Even continued. "The right-hand edge of the tape actually marks the dividing line. I wanted all of that…GLITTER to remain on HER side."

"Idiots though my previous assistants were," Yzma sighed, "they at least knew how to appreciate the finer things in life."

"Are you implying that I am your assistant?" Even snapped.

"Nothing would make me angrier than having YOU for a right-hand," Yzma replied.

"The feeling is mutual," Even stated, and the two glared at each other again, now miffed that they'd agreed with each other.

"…Anyway," Mozenrath went on, eager to dispel the awkwardness in the room, "I came here to make good on a little promise that Even and I discussed." He produced from his enchanted purse a small box, the same make as the sort that held the Cornerstone of Light upstairs. "The Huntsman gave me this to present to you to do with as you will. I figured you would need somewhere to put it."

"I thank you for this," Even stated, matter-of-fact, as he swiped the box from Mozenrath's hand.

"What's going on?" Yzma asked, flustered with confusion. "What's going in the box?"

"My heart," Even answered. "I am far, far better off without it."

"I've never seen a magical heart transplant before!" Yzma practically squealed.

"I will ask you NOT to drool over the procedure," Even groaned.

"She can watch," Mozenrath said firmly. "Whenever you're ready…"

"Now is as good of a time as ever," Even told him, turning to face the sorcerer, putting his arms at his sides and puffing his chest a bit for easy access.

Yzma grinned madly, coming as close as she could to Even and Mozenrath without crossing the line of tape, eager to see how Mozenrath went about this particular spell.

"You HAVE removed a heart before, have you not?" Even snapped at Mozenrath.

Mozenrath nodded. "Many times." Not even once. Still, he held up his right hand, watching as an aura not of blue but of pure black surrounded the gauntlet. After clenching a fist and flexing it out a few times, he suddenly plunged his arm into Even, his hand pushing through skin and sternum like they were liquid. His fingers and palm seized a throbbing object, and Mozenrath knew he had found what he'd gone fishing for. As suddenly as he'd thrust his arm into Even, he removed it, taking with it a gleaming red object that pulsed subtly.

Even flinched only slightly throughout the whole procedure. As he looked at the heart in Mozenrath's hand, he forced a smile, at last satisfied that he had to put that much effort into smiling. "That will do," he said evenly, reaching out to take both the heart and the box from Mozenrath, placing the former inside the latter and clicking the lid decisively closed. "Though there is one last request I have of you. Don't worry. It's not much."

"I'll hear it out before I agree to anything," Mozenrath replied.

"I would prefer if you didn't refer to me as 'Even' anymore," the blond scientist decided. "From now on, my name is 'Vexen.'"

...

It had been no difficult feat for Maleficent to transform Grimhilde from a stone harpy into a flesh-and-blood human being. She had also restored the human form of a rather sheepish Cruella once all were reunited in the common room of Villain's Vale. However, her fixes to their ailments came at a price, and that price was answering a single question:

"What happened to you?"

Grimhilde was stoic and even-tempered as she related the tale; Cruella interjected every so often with a frantic babble. They told the truth, from the moment Maleficent had left them in charge of the castle to the moment they'd returned. Once they had finished their explanation, they waited to see Maleficent's reaction.

A grin played at the faery's lips. "I gave you but one task," she stated. "Destroy Mozenrath. You located him thrice over, and every time, he was at a disadvantage to your powers and skills. And yet…"

Cruella backed away, immediately realizing why Maleficent was smiling. She was already planning their punishment, and having fun doing it.

"You seem to be forgetting part of the tale," Grimhilde told Maleficent. "It is true that Mozenrath still lives. However, as we speak, an entire empire in Equestria dies…and you are in possession of this."

She swept out her cape, creating a small portal of Darkness in midair; the Crystal Heart appeared at its center, floating before Maleficent. Maleficent stretched out her fingers, beckoning the Heart closer to herself. Once it hovered between her hands, the very nature of her smile changed. "Perhaps you have not failed me after all," she remarked. "This will be very useful in the days to come."

"It is a stone of immense power," Jafar observed; he knew how to recognize a magical crystal when it was presented to him.

"Then I suppose you're willing to just put this whole silly Mozenrath incident behind – " Cruella attempted.

"Your sentence shall be light," Maleficent stated sternly. "Not erased."

"I think some honest hard work should teach them a lesson," Cinder suggested. "This castle is full of dirt and stains waiting to be removed. Or is the Evil Queen too proud to kneel and scrub a floor?"

Grimhilde glowered at Cinder. This woman was suggesting she do the very work she used to give Snow White to keep her busy.

"Conventional," Maleficent remarked, "but for the moment, fitting. The two of you shall take on the task of polishing this entire castle to a brilliant shine. And you will be thankful that I allow you to remain in a physical state where you can complete such a task…in the course of a week. If so much as a cobweb remains after that time, we shall revisit the state of your punishment."

"How did your little Book of Prophecies thing go?" Cruella asked, eager to change the subject.

"The Book?" Hades responded. "Not there, babe. Long gone, and everybody's lips were zipped about where it went off to."

"But not for long," Maleficent said with an enigmatic smile. "I think it is about time I gather a little more information from our sources." She turned and stalked away, disappearing down a side stairwell.

"At the least, we left Briarwood in shambles," Jafar reported.

"There were several people styling themselves 'heroes' who decided to try and drive us away," Cinder elaborated. "But while we may not have gotten the Book…we got what we needed."

"And that is?" Grimhilde asked stonily.

Maleficent continued down the stairwell until she came to a small wooden door set in the stone. Much like the Forbidden Mountains, Villain's Vale was outfitted with many a prison cell. She opened this door and entered the small enclosure, where a thin woman was chained up, her wrists bound above her head by cuffs that dangled from the ceiling and her feet firmly shackled to the floor. When she saw Maleficent enter, she began to shake her head wildly. "No…no…"

"To think this was once the queen of the vampires," Maleficent taunted. "Now little more than a broken mortal. Have you changed your mind yet?"

"I've told you, I don't know where it is!" the woman insisted.

She was immediately wracked with pain around the legs; a thorny vine was wrapped around her lower half and pressing in on her skin. "Necrolai," Maleficent cajoled, "even though you may not know where the Book itself is, you know something about it. You know where you saw it last."

"I don't…I don't remember…"

The thorns grew longer, stabbing in deeper.

"I see my efforts are in vain," Maleficent said at last. "Perhaps I simply must accept that you do not have the information I seek. Perhaps…I am better off asking your daughter the whereabouts of the book."

"NO!" Necrolai had seen Ursula drag her daughter Leelee away, the blonde girl kicking and screaming all the while. She knew Maleficent was making no empty threat. "I may not remember much…but I will tell you all I can!"

"Very well." Maleficent's eyes burned with delight.

...

Alone at last in his very own bedroom – and the one with the biggest and comfiest bed, to boot – Mozenrath decided it was time to relax. He leaned back on the bed with a book he'd taken from the manor library in hand. There would be plenty of time to observe the Datascape and select his next target world later. The job was half done, anyway; he'd had a world scoped out to provide him with a sufficient Element of Air. For now, it was time to –

His fingers froze on the first page.

The Datascape.

It was still back in the mountain.

And whose fault was that?

"SNATCHERRRRR!" The roar echoed throughout the manor. "TORCHWIIIIICK! YZMAAAAAA!"

As Mozenrath stormed out of his room, ready to give the three of them an earful for not thinking to retrieve the Datascape before booting all three back to Knightdock to go find it, he became aware of another sound filling the mansion: that of a throbbing bass. Someone was playing very loud music, and it was coming from the mansion's entryway so that it was audible throughout the whole house.

When Mozenrath arrived in the foyer, he was stunned into silence by the scene. A great stage had been set up against the back wall, with strobe lights pouring over it; heavy drapes had been drawn against all the windows in order to allow said lights to do their job. Sitting upon the stage was a pair of enormous speakers and a turntable that acted as their source of sound. At the moment, Snatcher, decked out as Frou Frou in a gown of red with a tall jet-black wig, was belting a seductive song into a microphone and shimmying along. Behind the turntable, Roman had been in charge of audio, but watching Snatcher had frozen him in place, utterly gobsmacked and practically drooling. Wuya, Mim, Aghoul, Neo, and the Huntsman stood in front of the stage, watching the show.

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?" Mozenrath screamed. He realized only one person could have produced that much equipment from thin air, and turned on Wuya; "YOU SAID YOU WERE ON A BREAK!"

Wuya shrugged. "I got bored."

Snatcher made an executive decision to ignore Mozenrath and keep singing.

"And you." Mozenrath approached the Huntsman next. "You let them get away with this."

"The rationale," the Huntsman argued, "was that if we were not going to partake in public karaoke in the interest of keeping a 'low profile,' karaoke would be localized instead. I know far better than to try and stop them at this point."

"Is this true?" Mozenrath asked Mim and Aghoul.

"We have to have our fun SOMEHOW," Mim told him. "And we knew you wouldn't like the idea of kidnapping random civilians to torture slowly with kitchen implements and rare diseases, so we set up karaoke equipment instead!"

Mozenrath gritted his teeth. "Technically. You're right. About that." Realizing there was only one way to get Snatcher and Roman's attention, he stormed toward the back of the stage and sent a blast of magic rocketing through both speakers, blowing a neat hole through them and silencing the music. Snatcher was stopped short mid-note.

"Wow," Roman told Mozenrath. "Just when I thought you couldn't be any more of a killjoy."

Vexen slammed the door to the library open, storming out of it in a rage.

"Speaking of…" Snatcher muttered.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?" Vexen barked.

Yzma scooted out of the library behind him. "Is this a karaoke setup?" she asked eagerly.

"It was before Mozenrath destroyed it," Aghoul informed her.

"Whatever," Wuya sighed. "I can rebuild the speakers whenever I want."

"WHAT is wrong with ALL OF YOU?" Vexen went on. "You waste your immense talents on KARAOKE?"

"If you and Lord Mozenrath dislike it so much," Snatcher said into his microphone, "we can give away your time slots to Miss Neopolitan."

"Neo doesn't sing," Mozenrath reminded him.

"That was rather the point," Snatcher replied, still holding up the microphone. "Very well, then. Your time onstage will go to Torchwick."

"Torchwick CAN'T sing," Mozenrath insisted. "No one wants to hear him sing."

"I do – "

"Give me that!" Mozenrath seized the microphone and crushed it in his right hand with a burst of magic. "You didn't answer my call earlier."

"You called?" Snatcher replied innocently. "Music must've been too loud."

"DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU LEFT BEHIND?" Mozenrath asked him, turning his gaze to Roman, then to Yzma. Yzma immediately stepped behind Wuya; Roman shrugged.

"The Datascape," Mozenrath informed them. "Our only method of discovering the elements we need for our conquest spell, and YOU LEFT IT IN OUR LAST BASE OF OPERATIONS RIGHT BEFORE IT WAS STORMED!"

There was an audible gulp from all three of the guilty parties.

"And do you know what you're going to do about it?" Mozenrath asked.

"I'm guessing…" Snatcher said sheepishly. "Use the, er, Gummi ship you recently acquired…to go back there…and attempt to retrieve it?"

Mozenrath forced a smile and nodded. "I knew I liked you for a reason. Now GO."

Snatcher, Yzma, and Roman scurried out of the room in a hurry, Snatcher not even bothering to change.

"You realize they're not going to find it," Wuya told Mozenrath. "They'll already have scoured the base by now."

"I know," Mozenrath sighed. "And they're all too valuable to maim." Though the truth was, as angry as he was with them, he really didn't want to punish them too harshly. He told himself it was just because they were valuable tools, but deep down, he knew better. "Working with the Mamluks was so much easier," he lamented. They made it hard to get attached. "They never set up karaoke stages in the middle of the lair."

"You know…" Wuya stepped up onstage gingerly. "There is an obvious way to vent your frustrations…"

"Don't tell me."

Wuya placed a working microphone in Mozenrath's hand. She then waved her own hand, and the speakers were put back in working order.

"Just give me whatever's angriest," Mozenrath ordered.

In utter disbelief, Vexen turned and stalked from the room in a huff, slamming the door to the library behind him as hard as he could.

...

Things in Knightdock didn't settle back down to "normal" after Mozenrath and his company left. They couldn't. The wounds that Snatcher had torn open were left in the form of scar tissue. People still protested outside the MTT-radio station, hoping to jail all the monsters of Knightdock in a misguided bid to "keep their town safe." While the KPD seemed to have gained a full understanding of the situation, the NVPD hovered, keeping hawk eyes out for any other slip-up a monster could make. There were even people who still believed, after the whole story came out, that Papyrus had in fact been responsible for the death of young Eddie, and that his release would only lead to more deaths. And among all of this, Asgore remained imprisoned, unable to be let go due to the severity of the crime he had truly committed.

When Papyrus informed Toriel that he was going to be leaving town with Sora and Ruby in search of adventure, she knew she could never admit it to him out loud, but she felt as though it was a good time for him to leave. Perhaps out there, he could find a place where he would be more accepted.

Undyne had told him to "Go get 'em!" with a punch on the arm. She had then leaned over to whisper to Ruby, "But seriously, keep an eye on him. If you let him get even a scratch on him, I will END YOU."

Sans had responded to the news with a smile. "have fun out there," he told his brother. "but not too much fun, okay?"

"I WILL HAVE AS MUCH OR AS LITTLE FUN AS I PLEASE, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!" Papyrus insisted.

"i know you will," Sans replied with a playful wink. "but i bet you're gonna miss me having a conveniently timed trombone when you need one."

"AS A MATTER OF FACT, THAT'S THE LAST THING I'LL MISS. THAT AND YOUR PUNS."

"what, you got a trom-bone to pick with me?"  
"SAAAAAAANS!"

But Ruby and Sora had thought it was funny.

Once Papyrus had said all his goodbyes, he, Ruby, and Sora decided to have one more spaghetti dinner and anime marathon at his house. The food was as delicious as it could get with those three at the helm, and the anime they found had enough giant weapons to keep Ruby gazing raptly at the screen.

There was a knock at the door. Sora, Ruby, and Papyrus exchanged glances. The last time their fun had been interrupted by a knock at the door, it had been terrible tidings. Yet they knew they had to answer it this time.

"HELLO?" Papyrus greeted as he swung the door open.

"Hey, Papyrus," Officer Lyons greeted, waving with the arm that wasn't bound up in a cast and sling. "Your friends Sora and Ruby here?"

"We're here!" Sora confirmed as he and Ruby popped out from either side of Papyrus to greet Lyons.

"We found something interesting while we were cleaning out the castle in the mountain," Lyons announced. "I thought you might want to take a look at it."

"Why?" Sora asked.

"It has your name on it," Lyons answered.

...

The small computer in the police station glowed with light. Upon its screen was a view of a world suspended in interspace. Notes on the side of the screen labeled it as "Destiny Islands: home to Sora, Riku, and Kairi."

After only a moment of looking at it with Lyons, Ruby, and Papyrus, Sora gasped. "The Datascape!" he cried.

"You know what this is?" Lyons asked.

"Yeah!" Sora confirmed. "This was stolen from some friends of mine! Look. I'll show you! This is how you get to the section on Wonderland…" With a few keystrokes, he brought another world up onscreen, one labeled "Wonderland." "And this is how you get to the Olympus Coliseum!" He repeated the process for another world.

"Is this some kind of game?" Lyons wondered out loud.

"It's…more like…well, I'm not sure how to explain it, really," Sora admitted.

"I think you've proven well enough that it belongs to you," Lyons told him. "We'll let you have it. But first, I did want you to see this." He sat down at the computer, using his good hand to tap a few keys. A new world appeared on the screen. "When we first put the disk into this computer," Lyons explained, "this was what came up."

"I've…never heard of this world before," Sora admitted, looking it over. The notes that surrounded it were typed in deep royal blue, unlike the other worlds he'd displayed on the Datascape. They included phrases such as "Element of Air," "Next target?" and "A place of interest."

"Whatever this 'Datascape' is," Lyons stated, "our persons of interest were looking at this level…or whatever you call part of this…in particular. We weren't sure if it had anything to do with where they were planning to escape to. No one's found the craft they left in in the air. Anyway, we've already documented this, so you can take it home." He ejected the disk, handing it over to Sora.

"Thanks," Sora told him earnestly.

"For everything, really," Ruby added.

Lyons nodded. "I'm just trying to do what's right around here."

"Well, we should get going," Sora announced. "This should help a lot."

"OUR PATHS SHALL CROSS AGAIN ONE DAY WHEN I MAKE MY TRIUMPHANT RETURN HOME!" Papyrus told Lyons.

"I look forward to it," Lyons told the trio.

As the three left, they passed Clarence coming in. Clarence fired a suspicious glance at their backs before turning to address Lyons; "What did they want?"  
"The disk belonged to Sora," Lyons replied. "Or at least some friends of his."

"You think you can trust a monster-lover like that?" Clarence asked. "Especially one who just shows up out of nowhere with no profile and no information? He was probably flat-out lying to you."

"It's innocent until proven guilty, Clarence," Lyons said sternly.

"One of these days, your soft heart is gonna get us all in trouble," Clarence said rather menacingly, fixing a glare upon Lyons. "And until then, I'm going to be the one making sure the monsters stay in line where they belong. Like you should be doing."

Lyons returned the glare in equal measure: "I think I know the difference between right and wrong, Clarence. Do you?"

Outside, Sora, Ruby, and Papyrus quickened their pace toward the Gummi ship. "WHERE TO FIRST?" Papyrus asked.

"Well, we should bring the Datascape back to Disney Castle, where it belongs," Sora resolved. "But after that, we should check out that world the bad guys made notes on. It's probably where they're gonna strike next!"

"Let's go!" Ruby laughed.

Recalling the name of the world in question, Papyrus took the lead of the charge, pointing dramatically ahead as he announced, "TO ATMOS!"


	21. The World Torn by Storms

21\. The World Torn by Storms

The lounge was empty but for four. Snatcher, Roman, and Yzma stood before Mozenrath, who fixed his teammates with a stern glare, awaiting their report.

"As it were," Snatcher explained, "once we reached Knightdock proper, I placed a call in to an acquaintance of sorts. One Officer Walter Clarence, who was quite besotted with Madame Frou Frou. We exchanged pleasantries, of course, and I was able to extract from him exactly…the information you don't want to hear."

"Try me," Mozenrath suggested.

"The Datascape was apparently returned to someone whom Mr. Clarence does not believe is its rightful owner," Snatcher explained. "A boy matching the physical description of the one we saw escaping the mountain. Mr. Clarence identified him as 'Sora.'"

"Sora," Mozenrath repeated.

"Perhaps the worst of it is this is the SAME boy who led those bratty teenagers to hold us off in Vale," Yzma added.

"Describe him again," Mozenrath demanded.

After Snatcher, Roman, and Yzma fought to have the floor and give Mozenrath a breakdown of the boy's physical features, Mozenrath put up both hands to silence them all. "I've heard enough," he stated. He lowered his hands; "The same boy who gave us a humiliating defeat in Radiant Garden. This 'Sora' could potentially be a problem to us. Sooner or later, we're going to need to figure out how to destroy him."

"Completely agreed!" Yzma and Snatcher said in unison; Roman just nodded.

"In the meantime," Mozenrath went on, "I want to share a little story with you. Once upon a time, I recruited a thief named Amin Damoola to do a little bit of my dirty work. All he had to do was turn the Sultan of Agrabah to gold, then bring that statue to me. I outfitted him with…admittedly the bottom of the barrel when it came to the magical tricks and trinkets I kept on hand at all times, but it should still have been enough for him to bring me back the Sultan and secure the conquest of Agrabah for me. Still, he failed. I pressed him into servitude after that. It was the standard punishment. He was in charge of cleaning, cooking, every task I didn't want to do myself that I could think of piling on his shoulders to make him miserable. Then, after certain plans failed to come to fruition in a ruined city and my gauntlet was buried somewhere in the vast expanse of desert by a pack of annoying sprites, I enlisted him in digging for it and watched him slowly burn in the heat of the sun while I stayed in the comfort of shade. It took months for him to find the gauntlet, and once he did, he ran away. He found a way to escape without my notice, and I never heard from him again until Aghoul mentioned that he was present in the standoff against Maleficent.

"Why am I telling you this? So you know what I could and all rights should be doing to the three of you for failing to protect that Datascape. After all, it had the Atmos outlined on it as our next target. There's a fifty-fifty chance that it will lead this 'Sora' right to us."

"Fifty-fifty?" Roman interrupted.

"Atmos is a world divided in two," Mozenrath told him. "I'll explain later, when I'm not trying to make you all realize how much you potentially ruined EVERYTHING. Yes, I should demote you to servitude, or perhaps strip you of your humanity, or maybe even just cast you out into exile on some desolate wasteland of a world you can't leave." He sighed, his expression changing completely, becoming more sincere. "But I'm not going to."

There was a silence before Yzma asked, "And, er…why?"

Roman elbowed her hard in the side. "Don't ASK; just TAKE IT!"

"I daresay you've actually gotten attached to us," Snatcher realized, smirking proudly.

"Mamluks were so much easier," Mozenrath sighed. "Never thought I'd fall this far. But yes. We're close enough to…kindred spirits that you three can consider yourselves safe for the foreseeable future."

"Thank…you…?" Yzma replied gingerly.

"I think it's sweet, Righty," Roman taunted. "You actually have real FRIENDS now."

Mozenrath raised a hand, index finger extended, to tell Roman off for that remark, but he lowered it and gave first a sigh, then a small smile. "I suppose I do. I would say not to spread it around, but they all know at this point." The smile faded. "This better not be what undoes us."

"Could make us stronger," Snatcher suggested. "Only a possibility."

"It could," Mozenrath agreed. "You're all free to go. I have to figure out what to do about our Sora problem. Though if we could isolate him, we would have the advantage in numbers. We could bring him down together."

"After all, what are friends for?" Yzma joked.

...

A week passed.

Roman found Mim out in the forest, hand pressed to a tree that was gradually growing blacker and more hole-ridden by the moment; birds, squirrels, and insects abandoned ship as quickly as they could, springing onto nearby trees, scuttling into the grass, taking wing for the skies.

"Mad Madam Mim!" Roman greeted. "Are you rotting this tree just to watch it die?"

"That is EXACTLY what I'm doing!" Mim crowed.

"Have I ever told you I like your style?" Roman replied.

"You're being awfully pleasant today," Mim told him. "I'm not sure I like it."

"What, can't I tell my good buddy how beautiful and smart she is – "

"YOU STOP WITH THOSE INSULTS RIGHT NOW, MISTER!" Mim removed her hand from the tree to wag a finger at Roman.

Roman sighed. "I need a favor."

"Then spit it out!"

"So you know Neo looks up to you like some kind of twisted mom, right?"

"She's a most delightful friend!" Mim confirmed.

"Glad you think so," Roman told her. "Because I need you to take her somewhere else for a while. Somewhere that's not here. Pick a world, any world."

"Why?" Mim asked. "Is something wrong?"

"Wellllll…" Roman put up his hands to gesture while he explained things. "So Archie and I are getting pretty serious."

"We all know," Mim answered. "We've heard."

"So the news spread – "

"Oh, no, I meant we can hear you through the walls of your room."

Mim found the look that came across Roman's face when she informed him of that fact absolutely priceless. He gave an awkward cough before trying to resume, only to sputter, "Wait. YOUR room is on the other side of the mansion from mine!"

"I know. You're THAT loud," Mim said gleefully.

"You're…making things up?" Roman tested, but Mim's expression held firm, and he knew she wasn't. His face flushed momentarily, but he forced himself to regain composure. "Anyway, there's a little thing Neo likes to do when I'm really interested in somebody. She likes to…test their durability. To make sure they're tough enough to run with us."

"I'm not sure I get your meaning."

"So the other day, during lunch…"

...

On the other day in question, Roman, Neo, and Snatcher had been taking lunch together in the lounge; Neo dished out lamb stew into all of their bowls.

"I'll say," Snatcher declared, stirring his spoon around vigorously in his bowl before thinking about taking the first bite, "I was skeptical at first, but I'm growing to like this town. No one's batted an eye at us yet."

"Well, except for when I ordered the lamb for this at Cudgel-point," Roman brought up.

"Really," Snatcher told him, "one time around, we've got to find a way to acquire our basic necessities without putting you at such risk."

"That just takes all the fun out of it," Roman informed him, grinning broadly.

"I suppose it would," Snatcher said, returning a thoughtful smile. "At the end of the day, that's part of your charm, after all. Your constant – "

There was a tiny "clink" as his spoon hit something else metal. Reaching delicately into his stew with two fingers, Snatcher withdrew a nasty-looking silver sewing needle that glimmered under the lounge's low light.

As Roman gaped in horror, Neo eagerly gave Snatcher vigorous applause, pleased that he'd passed yet another one of her tests.

...

"…And that's just ONE example," Roman finished explaining to Mim. "In the interest of not having the next time be cyanide, or, arguably worse, milk, which can't actually be fished out with a spoon, I kind of need her out of the house for a bit. Maybe put her destructive energy toward something that actually needs destroying."

"Taking Neo on a day out sounds fun!" Mim told Roman. "I'd be more than happy to! Perhaps I'll invite Aghoul as well! Oh, we could spread so much chaos back on the world I come from!"

"You're a pal, y'know that?" Roman replied.

"This better not turn into more insults," Mim warned.

Roman shrugged. "Wouldn't dream of it."

A thought occurred to Mim. "Where is Mr. Snatcher, anyway?"

"Scoping out the next world with Righty and Iceman," Roman answered. "Apparently, there's some kind of crystal there that will work for the Air part of our spell."

"I can't imagine THOSE three can be having that much fun together," Mim remarked. "Not without any of us along!"

They passed Yzma and Wuya, who stood outside a locked door clutching shower baskets filled with luxuriously scented toiletries. The former banged on the door, screaming, "MIM! YOU HAD BETTER BE ALMOST DONE! YOU'VE BEEN IN THERE FOR TWO HOURS!"

Wuya cleared her throat loudly, tapping Yzma on the shoulder with one finger and pointing at Mim as soon as Yzma's attention was gotten. Yzma gave a great sigh. "You turned on the water, locked the door, and teleported out, didn't you?"

"You know it!" Mim laughed.

"You're shameless," Roman told Mim, giving her a proud clap on the back.

"Finally, a compliment!" Mim crowed.

...

As Mozenrath had informed his cohorts, Atmos was a world largely composed of barren or violent wastes and populated by hulking beasts. Civilization had taken refuge on top of a series of plateaus, each separated by miles upon miles and only accessible to each other through air travel. This particular plateau had been devoted almost entirely to an enormous amusement park, rainbow lights flashing all over and the scent of fried food permeating the air.

"Digsusting" was the first observation Vexen had to make about it.

"Truly, this is a moment of opportunity!" Snatcher announced. "Men of intellect, such as ourselves, forging a path through a realm previously unknown!"

"Tell me the entire world isn't given over to such frivolities," Vexen sighed.

"Only this Terra, as far as I know," Mozenrath replied, keeping his voice low so as not to alert any passerby to just how far away the trio hailed from. "That's what they call the kingdoms here. I don't know which one we're on, thanks to SOMEONE leaving the Datascape behind – " He gave a brief glare to Snatcher. " – But the one we're looking for is Terra Atmosia. That's where they keep the Aurora Stone, which is the crystal that should, according to my research, give us the best results. Now, about getting there…"

Mozenrath strode several paces toward the heart of the frivolity, passing parents guiding children who carried positively massive bundles of cotton candy. He put a hand on the shoulder of a nearby man and asked, "Is this Terra Atmosia?"

"You don't know?" the man responded, giving the trio a look of disgust before he turned away and lost himself among the crowd.

Before Mozenrath could ask another member of the throng, Snatcher put up a hand; "Wait for it."

They waited. And waited. But Vexen said nothing.

"Mr. Vexen," Snatcher said at last, "I was wholly expecting a reproach about how Lord Mozenrath thoroughly proved himself to be an outsider to this world."

"Hm?" Vexen tore his gaze away from the crossbeams of one of the roller coasters. "I was observing. There's something rather unusual about this park. That being said, whatever Mozenrath just did, I'm certain it gave us completely away."

"Well?" Mozenrath asked. "What's out of the ordinary here?"

"Have you noticed that a great many of these…shining metal diversions are brand-new?" Vexen posed. "And yet the district we came from had much, much older machinery."

"So they built more rides for their park," Mozenrath reiterated, deadpan.

"Perhaps…" Vexen mused. "And yet I see even more machines that are a mixture of both aged metal and newly polished substance. It is indeed likely that it is all a matter of construction out of want. But another possibility occurs to me. Could a part of this park have, in fact, been destroyed and then rebuilt?"

"Possibly," Mozenrath replied. "After all, this world does have a history of war."

"All the better to keep in mind," Snatcher stated cryptically. "I must thank you for pointing it out, Mr. Vexen."

"And just why is that?" Vexen raised a brow in curiosity.

"Gentlemen," Snatcher began before turning to stalk further into the crowd. Picking out a target, he stepped alongside a woman munching great mouthfuls from a packet of flamecorn: "Pardon me, Madam! I apologize for this inconvenience, but my cohorts and I were en route to Terra Atmosia when we became thoroughly turned around."

The woman nodded. "It's easy to get lost around here." She pointed in a direction, and Mozenrath and Vexen immediately memorized its location in reference to the position of the sun. "My family's actually from Atmosia. Keep heading that way and you can't miss it."

"I thank you kindly, Madam," Snatcher responded, sounding as sincere as possible. "Pity you aren't a native to this world, then. I was about to congratulate you on the reconstruction."

"It's hard to believe it's finally up and running again," the woman sighed, looking toward the tops of the tallest rides with nostalgia. "I thought it was gone for good after the Cyclonian warship wiped it all out."

"It would have taken an incredibly large warship to do as much damage as I've observed," Vexen stated.

As the woman looked to Vexen, puzzled, Snatcher clarified: "We still can't comprehend the size of it ourselves. We saw it pass on the horizon, of course, but it was simply unbelievable to us. We never truly got a handle on it. Was it truly as large as they say?"

"Well, they SAY it was as big as an entire Terra," the woman replied, "and from what I saw, I would say that's right."

For a moment, all Snatcher, Mozenrath, and Vexen could hear were the words "It was as big as an entire Terra" echoing through their heads.

"Unbelievable, right?" the woman said to break the silence.

"…Most certainly!" Snatcher snapped himself back to attention.

Mozenrath positioned himself behind the woman, right in Snatcher's line of sight, being sure to slowly and deliberately mouth the words "ASK ABOUT THE SHIP."

"'Twas a terrible tragedy, all that," Snatcher went on, giving Mozenrath an almost imperceptible nod. "Funny thing. Reason we got lost in the first place is we were taking a detour to see the site of the, er, Cy…clon…ian? Ship's last stand, which we never ended up finding."

"I think it went down somewhere near where Terra Cyclonia used to be when we thought it was still just a Terra?" the woman said tentatively. "That would be…" She pointed again. "I THINK it's that way. No promises. I know I wouldn't want to even look at that thing, but to each their own." She shrugged.

"Well, thank you for all your help," Mozenrath told the woman, stepping back into her view. "I think we can take it from here."

"No problem!" The woman continued to stride on, making her way to a row of game booths. "Good luck!"

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Mozenrath asked hushedly as soon as the woman had left.

"A warship the size of an entire Terra would certainly solve our space qualms with the manor in Twilight Town," Vexen pointed out. "Perhaps everyone could finally stop griping over how many bathrooms there are."

"You included," Mozenrath pointed out.

"Not to mention it would have better defenses that would negate our need for a low profile," Snatcher added.

"If we took it far enough offworld," Mozenrath mused, "we wouldn't have to worry about blending in anywhere. I'm sure all it would take is a decent amount of magic to place an airship that size in the space between worlds. So it sounds like we're in agreement: we have a new goal."

"And once we've acquired a weapon of that caliber," Snatcher pointed out, "obtaining this 'Aurora stone' would be a mere cakewalk."

"Will it?" Vexen posed. "We can't be the first to have thought of this. Why is a Terra-sized warship lying around where anyone can commandeer it, yet no one has?"

"That's a question we'll answer when we find it," Mozenrath decided. "We'll just have to succeed where everyone else failed when it comes to that. First, we should go back for a few of the others."

"I know Torchwick will be quite elated to hear there's a new airship that needs a pilot," Snatcher stated.

"I must admit I still don't see what in him appeals to you," Vexen commented, "and your display today exemplifies just that."

Snatcher's voice had an edge to it as he asked "How so?"

"Simply that you got us what we wanted quickly, peacefully, and without making waves," Vexen pointed out. "You've somewhat of a silver tongue. Torchwick, on the other hand, would have held this entire Terra hostage at gunpoint until someone gave him the answer he wanted, and we would have become Atmos' most wanted."

"Torchwick and I merely take different approaches to such things," Snatcher argued. "His is more direct."

"And once we have that warship," Mozenrath pointed out, "we're going to be VERY direct about what we want. Torchwick is exactly who we want at the wheel, guns blazing."

"I suppose," Vexen snorted.

"As for Torchwick's approach," Snatcher said coldly, "I'll ask you to put your observational skills toward him a bit more carefully until such time as you no longer see a need to complain about him."

"If this is going to turn into a fight," Mozenrath sighed, "at least wait until we're back in Twilight Town."

"There'll be no fight," Snatcher vowed. "…Provided Mr. Vexen chooses his words more carefully."

"Is that a threat?" Vexen replied.

"NOT HERE," Mozenrath seethed. "AND NOT NOW. What happened to men of intellect, trailblazing this or that? Focus on this: we're about to move house into our greatest weapon to date and seize the Element of Air in one fell swoop. Compared to what we've had to go through for the last four, this should be easy."

"You shouldn't have said that," Vexen and Snatcher immediately replied.

"Whatever lies in wait for us is going to be infinitely worse now that you've SAID that!" Snatcher hissed.

"I would have waited to tempt fate until our victory was closer to assured," Vexen added.

Mozenrath shrugged. "At least I got you to agree on something."

...

Necrolai struggled for a lie as Maleficent's gleaming eyes burned into her mind. She wondered if the faery knew that she was searching desperately for something to say, something that sounded convincing. She hadn't the faintest where the Book of Prophecies had disappeared to, but with Leelee on the line, she was ready to say anything.

"Sculpin mentioned a hiding place for the Book," she sputtered at last. "He took it to…" She prayed that the phrase she'd come up with matched the description of an actual world. "The world torn apart by storms!"

Maleficent's mouth curled up into a grin. Obviously she liked what she'd heard. Necrolai's heart beat impossibly fast. "The world torn by storms," Maleficent repeated. "An unlikely hiding place…but perhaps that is what makes it so fitting."

As she turned to leave the room, the temperature dropped strikingly, sending chills and aches through Necrolai's body. "Be aware that if you lie," the faery stated on her way out of the room, "there will be grave consequences. But you and your daughter will both remain alive until then. After all, if you are wrong, you are still of use to me."

Necrolai knew she'd been had; if Maleficent somehow turned up the actual Book of Prophecies on this "world torn by storms," it would mean Necrolai and Leelee could both be tossed aside and killed. But without a lie, Leelee would have been brought to death's brink and back again and again, and Necrolai knew it. There was no way out.

In the circular gathering room, Cinder and Jafar awaited Maleficent's approach. "We are going to a world called Atmos," she stated. "A world torn in two, divided by storms. And to tell you the truth, I have had my eyes upon this world for quite some time."

"And why is that?" Jafar wondered out loud.

Maleficent summoned her staff to hand, circling her hand over the globe. A light projection emitted from it, forming into a miniature scene tinted with green: a girl of about fourteen aboard an air skimmer, piloting it at maximum speed, glancing briefly over her shoulder at something that elicited a sneer. She carried a staff of her own, though this one looked to be more mechanical than Maleficent's, and she used it to throw a beam of energy behind herself at whoever or whatever was pursuing her.

"This girl's heart," Maleficent explained, "contains an immense amount of Darkness. Such as warranted observation. I believe she could be of great use to us."

...

Nora Valkyrie hoisted Magnhild high, then brought it down hard over the back of an Ursa. The Ursa's spine cracked, and so did Magnhild, the head separating cleanly from the shaft.

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!" Nora gathered up the pieces of her weapon and cradled them as though they were a fallen comrade.

Riku and Kairi took out the last Ursa on the battlefield by slicing across it from different angles. The Grimm had ambushed Riku, Kairi, Nora, Jaune, and Ren on a side street, and Jaune and Ren had already been unable to participate, as their own weapons had been broken in prior bouts. With Vale in shambles, there was no opportunity to give the weapons the proper care or maintenance.

"Well, there goes Magnhild," Jaune sighed. "Looks like we're running on Keyblade power now." He held up the severed hilt of his sword and his cracked shield in dismay.

"There has to be a way we can fix all these broken weapons," Kairi insisted.

"Where would we?" Ren asked her. "Every facility that deals in weapons is closed now."

"I wish we could take you to Radiant Garden," Kairi lamented. "The town there is full of weapon shops. Someone there could repair all your weapons in an instant!"

Riku's peripheral vision caught sight of something small, white, and very familiar making its way down the road one block over. "Huh?" He blinked a few times to make sure he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. Then he ran toward it, discovering that it was, as he'd perceived, a Moogle. "HEY!"

The Moogle made an excited squeaking noise before greeting, "Hello, kupo!"

"Hi," Riku replied, skidding to a stop; Kairi, Jaune, Ren, and Nora had begun to follow him. "What are you doing all the way out here? We haven't seen any Moogles on this world so far."

The Moogle nodded with understanding; these were obviously people who knew about the network of worlds, and whom he could be open with without disrupting world order. "We wanted to open up shop here, kupo! But it seems we picked a bad time. Everything is overrun with monsters, and nobody has the time or money to spend on even a Potion! So I'm going back home!"

"Where is home?" Riku asked.

"Radiant Garden, kupo, of course!"

"Can we hitch a ride there?" Riku continued. "We could use a trip to town."

"After looking at this place, I'll say you could, kupo!" the Moogle insisted.

"If you're sure it's not too much trouble," Kairi added.

"Of course not!" the Moogle said happily. "My ship has more than enough room for six!"

"ROAD TRIP!" Nora cried. "WE'RE GOING ON A ROAD TRIP!"

Riku smiled at her. "It's a little more exciting than an ordinary road."

...

Wind rushed through Master Cyclonis' short-cropped dark hair as she sped her skimmer through the skies of the Far Side of Atmos. A very valuable crystal indeed had just come into her possession without permission from its owner, and this brought a pleased smirk to her face. As satisfied as she was, however, she realized she had to be on her guard, for it was only a matter of time until she was caught up with by –

A distinctive horn sounded through the clouds behind.

So they'd found her already.

Inside the airship known as the Condor, young captain Aerrow, leader of the sky knights known as the Storm Hawks, looked down through the front window to see Cyclonis speeding ahead. "There she is!" he cried.

"Dude, she is SO not getting away with this one!" sniper Finn said with a fist-pump.

"Remember, we have to be careful," crystal specialist Piper warned. "That Disruption Crystal packs a punch. If she uses it against us – "

As this conversation took place onboard, Cyclonis had fumbled with the stolen crystal, attaching it to the tip of her staff. She spun the staff back over her shoulder, firing a beam of energy at the Condor. The beam burned right through the floor of the cockpit and out through the roof, causing all of the Storm Hawks to leap to the side, away from the burning energy. With a scream of fright, the ship's Merbian pilot, Stork, ended up leaping into the arms of the Wallopian strongman Junko. Only when he was sure it was not so much safe as less dangerous than it had been did he lower himself to the ground. "She. Did. Not. JUST. Put a hole in my ship!" Stork growled. "THAT'S IT! MAKE HER PAY!"

"Let's go, everyone!" Aerrow beckoned, waving his friends to follow him to the ship's hangar. Weasel-like co-pilot Radarr chirped enthusiastically as he followed.

"Y'know," Finn urged Stork, "if you're really that mad about her messing with the Condor, you should come out and help us take her down."

"Ohhh, I'm fine right here," Stork replied. "See, from in here, not only do I not get burned to a crisp by that Disruption Crystal, but the Condor and I are also at the ready to bail the rest of you out when you inevitably need it."

"Well, we appreciate it," Piper told Stork with a smile, which he returned. "Keep close behind us, okay?"

Stork flashed her a thumbs-up, and Piper, Finn, Radarr, and Junko took off following Aerrow to the hangar.

Cyclonis knew they would be mobilizing to take to their own skimmers. She was ready. So far, they'd tried to take her into custody no less than fifteen times since they'd all arrived on the Far Side, and she'd evaded the grip of the law every single time. This would be no different.

However, a variable presented itself. From an enormous Corridor of Darkness, a black mass of rock descended in the air in front of Cyclonis, where it suspended to support the three people standing upon it: a dark-haired, pale woman in a red minidress; a tall man robed in red with a twisted beard; and an elegant woman clad entirely in black who seemed to have a faint green tint to her skin.

Cyclonis veered her skimmer to avoid the rock and its triad of occupants, but Maleficent pointed her staff at Cyclonis, and suddenly the skimmer was halted in midair, unable to progress, surrounded by green aura. "Wh…" Cyclonis forced the controls of the vehicle only to find that none were working. "WHAT did you to do my skimmer?" she barked at Maleficent.

"Master Cyclonis," Maleficent said calmly. "I would like to make a proposal to you."

"I DON'T HAVE TIME!" Cyclonis barked. "Now LET ME GO or I'll – "

"Oh, but of course," Maleficent replied. "We shall just have to make time, won't we?" She turned her staff upward to point it at the Condor.

Inside the hangar, Aerrow, Finn, Junko, and Piper took their places on their skimmers; most were of an X-wing model, but Piper's ran on a propeller-based design instead. Radarr hopped into place behind Aerrow.

"So…think we'll actually catch her this time?" Finn wondered out loud.

"We can hope!" Aerrow replied with a debonair smile.

"Let's go get that crystal back!" Junko announced.

They readied to speed out of the hangar, to pursue Cyclonis, to surround her and perhaps this time actually arrest her for her crimes.

But before they could move, the Condor exploded in a conflagration of green flames.

From below, Cyclonis watched in awe as the vehicle that carried her nemeses was reduced to fire and shrapnel in mere moments. A slow grin crossed her face, growing wider and wider. She finally turned her attention away from the brilliant emerald explosion in the sky, addressing Maleficent once more; "So. What did you want to talk about? I'm listening."

High above, one moment, Stork was at his usual post behind the wheel of the Condor, filled with his usual sense of dread that somehow, in some way, this encounter would lead to the doom of the whole crew…and yet this feeling had never quite come to fruition the same way as it did this time. The next moment, the floor beneath his feet was only shards of metal and carpenting, and he was falling down, down, down through extreme heat, flames licking his body momentarily only for him to miraculously escape the worst of the fire. Above him, growing slowly smaller in size as he fell, the remains of the Condor burned. He had enough of his wits about him to pull the cord on his emergency parachute, which ballooned up above him, slowing his descent to a safe one. But between the physical and mental shock, blood rushed and ebbed from his head, and soon after, there was only blackness.


	22. The Sky Is Never the Limit

A/N: This chapter comes with a trigger warning for suicide.

22\. The Sky Is Never the Limit

It was not a beautiful day in the England ruled by boy king Arthur. It was cloudy and gray, and every so often, there was a rumble in the sky that threatened thunder, though no rain came.

In other words, it was the perfect weather for Mim, Aghoul, and Neo to take a stroll.

"Where are we going first, Mim my dear?" Aghoul asked.

"I thought we'd just walk around and look for things that could use a little more destruction," Mim informed him.

Neo nodded her approval vigorously.

They made short work of finding a field of wildflowers and withering it all to flaky black residue. This bored Neo, who made it clear through emphatic hand gestures that she wanted to wreak havoc upon civilization, and she wanted it now.

"All right, all right!" Mim resolved. "We'll go find a lovely village to burn to the ground!"

The trio located a road and began to walk it, scanning the horizon for rooftops. After a while, there came a traveler headed in the opposite direction: a bard with a lute strapped across his back. "Good morning, fellow travelers!" he greeted with a friendly wave. "Where are you headed?"  
"We're just out for an adventure, wherever that takes us!" Aghoul answered.

"Adventurers, eh?" the bard replied with a raised eyebrow. "That's my favorite sort of person to write ballads about, you know. Quests by noble heroes to discover fabulous lands and vanquish horrible villains. Perhaps your tale will be one I write about!"

"Ooh!" an idea occurred to Mim. "What sort of villains do you write about?"

"Only the most horrendous ne'er-do-wells to ever plague England!" the bard confirmed.

If that was true, Aghoul wondered, how had this young man not recognized Mim on sight?

But she was convinced she was somewhere in the musician's library of tales. "If you would please," she said sweetly, "we would love to hear anything you've written about the most hated and disgusting villain you can think of!"

"Oh, I know JUST the song for you!" The bard removed the lute from his back, positioning it out front for playing. "This is the tale of one of Merlin's many clashes with his infamous archnemesis! I think you know who I'm talking about!"

"I'm sure I do!" Mim squealed.

The bard cleared his throat, strumming a few chords to get into key. Then he began to sing:

"Of wizards of might and wielders of light,

Few measure up to Merlin!

For he could approach the Fates' tapestry

And redo all their knitting and purling!

But darkness and dread came down on his head

One frightening and ill-boding day!

For the skies, they did darken, as if to hearken

The arrival of Morgana le Fay!

As Morgana – "

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?" Mim screeched, interrupting the song.

"I, er…it was Morgana le Fay," the bard stated, surprised he'd been halted. He'd thought this song was one of his better works, himself, and he was only just getting started. "This is the tale of the day Merlin first met her and she became his most hated rival, and the first of many, many times Merlin saved England from her dark – "

"MORGANA LE FAY, YOU SAY?" Mim yelled. "MORGANA LE FAY! MERLIN'S ARCHNEMESIS!"

"Why, yes," the bard replied, beginning to get worried. No one had ever reacted this way to one of his tales before.

"WHAT ABOUT THE MAGNIFICENT, MARVELOUS MAD MADAM MIM?" Mim pressed. "WHAT OF HER, EH?"

"Mad Madam Mim?" the bard responded. "I…think I've heard that name. Oh, yes, I think she's dueled with Merlin once or twice. It wasn't quite ballad material – "

Mim very nearly destroyed the man on the spot, but she gritted her teeth, looking from Aghoul to Neo. It wouldn't be very fair of her not to share, after all. "Shall we?" she asked.

Aghoul's scythe and Neo's blade made themselves visible, and the bard came to realize that somewhere along the line, he'd made a terrible mistake.

The trio left the bard in considerably more pieces than they'd found him in, but that did little to quell Mim's rage. "There isn't any possible way this 'Morgana le Fay' has done worse to this world than I have!" she seethed.

"Perhaps he was simply mistaken," Aghoul suggested. "Or an idiot. Let's not let this ruin our wonderful outing, shall we? You barely seemed to enjoy that last dismemberment."

"You're right," Mim huffed. "I'm far more Merlin's rival than some witch I've never heard of. If she's even a witch. For all we know, she doesn't even have any magnificent powers."

We would know, Aghoul thought, if you had let us hear more of the song. Not that it wasn't worth it.

Finally, the triad reached a small village, which was in the midst of a celebration. Multicolored banners were hung throughout the streets, and a multitude of people danced to live music in the town square. Candies and treats of all varieties were being distributed from stands at the edge of the festivity.

"See, here?" Aghoul gestured out over the square of dancers. "This is the PERFECT party to ruin! We could really kill tonight, if you know what I mean!"

"What should we do first?" Mim wondered out loud. "Oh, oh, I know!" Within a minute, she'd purchased a candied apple from a vendor, only to rot it on the inside and pass it off to an unsuspecting child. Neo swiped a different candied apple from one even younger, dealing her a swift kick when she started crying.

Aghoul tapped one of the dancers on the shoulder. "Pardon me," he asked, "but what exactly is all this…liveliness about?"

"You don't know?" The woman he'd signaled was astonished. "Merlin saved our village from the clutches of Morgana le Fay herself! If it wasn't for him, we'd all be toast!"

Aghoul and Neo both looked immediately to Mim, wondering if she'd heard.

The look on her face revealed that she had. And she was turning quite the bright shade of magenta.

The three villains left that town in a good deal more flames than they'd found it.

"Coincidence?" Aghoul suggested.

"IT HAD BETTER BE!" Mim practically roared.

Their path finally took them to what had once been a village, but was now a wasteland of wreckage and shrapnel. Homes and shops had been flattened into piles of wooden and rocky rubble. It was one of the most depressing things any of the three had seen, for the simple reason that there was absolutely nothing left for them to destroy.

"Well," Aghoul remarked, "it seems someone beat us…to…the…fun…"

He realized what he was saying midsentence.

Neo shook her head, eyes wide with horror.

There was a rustling sound coming from one of the wrecked homes, followed by a weak voice whimpering, "Please…help me…"

Mim, Aghoul, and Neo all turned to see a bruised and battered man crawling from the debris, wincing with pain with every move he made.

"YOU." Mim stormed over to the survivor, reaching down to grab his collar with both hands and yank his head upward to face her. "WHAT HAPPENED HERE?" Smoke literally wafted out of her ears.

"A cyclone," the survivor responded, close to tears. "M-Morgana le Fay brought down a cyclone, and it destroyed…everything…"

Mim's first instinct was to kill the man then and there, and Aghoul and Neo both thought she was about to do it. But she hesitated, motivated by a sudden revelation: she needed information. "Tell me," she said sweetly, "where might I find this…Morgana le Fay?"

"They say wherever Merlin goes, she follows," the man gasped. "If only he'd been here when the cyclone touched down…then maybe we…"

"Well, you know what they say about ifs and ands!" Mim cackled, her shape morphing into that of an Ursa.

Besides mauling the survivor, there wasn't much that Mim, Aghoul, and Neo could do to leave the village in worse shape than they'd found it, but they kicked around a few stones and loose boards anyway.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I think what we do next is obvious," Aghoul said with a smile.

"We make sure Merlin only DOES have one archnemesis, now and forever," Mim growled. "First, we find this…Morgana le Fay. And then…"

Neo drew her finger across her neck with a gleeful leer.

...

A Corridor of Darkness opened in the atrium of the Twilight Town manor, depositing Mozenrath, Snatcher, and Vexen in their lair.

"Rally the troops," Mozenrath ordered.

They fanned out. Vexen made for the laboratory, Mozenrath for the upper level, and Snatcher for the lounge.

Snatcher was the first to find who he was looking for; Roman was practicing trick shots on a pool table that took up a good percentage of the room. At first, Snatcher was confused; "Where did you come by a pool t…oh, right, of course. Miss Wuya."

Roman guided the cue behind his back, knocking a ball into a crowd of other spheres that were shoved in the direction of several pockets; five of them sank. "Sooooooooo," Roman asked, "how'd the recon go? Find anything good?"

"What would you say," Snatcher proposed, leaning one hand on the pool table, "if I told you that you potentially had the opportunity to pilot a warship the size of a small kingdom?"

Roman's eyes were practically luminous. "I'd say you BETTER not be joking."

Downstairs, in the laboratory, Yzma had spread out equipment all over the floor, covering both her side of the room and Vexen's. "You know," Wuya observed from where she was sitting on one of the countertops, swinging her legs idly, "when Vexen comes home, he's going to turn you into a popsicle for crossing the glitter line."

"Oh, hush, you," Yzma replied from where she was on her hands and knees on the floor, gently administering liquid into a beaker from an eyedropper. "He should KNOW by now I need more room than this for the more complex potions!"

As footsteps announced Vexen's presence, Wuya teased, "Busted."

As Vexen entered the room, he failed to notice that his foot had landed on and crushed a flask of potion-in-progress. "Yzma!" he barked as a cloud of pink smoke curled up around him and swallowed him whole. "Ah, and Wuya. You're here as well. Perfect."

The two women watched in stark surprise as the smoke cleared. Where Vexen had been now stood a pale-gold-colored penguin sporting blonde locks and brilliant green eyes. Yzma and Wuya waited for him to notice and unleash his icy fury.

"We've found something of interest in Atmos," he related calmly. "Not only is the crystal there we require for the Element of Air in our conquest spell, but there is apparently an abandoned warship left over by the previous devastators of that world. Though I am still suspicious as to why no one has come to claim it before us. Whatever the case may be, we are going to retrieve that ship, and we need as many hands on its deck as we can muster."

Yzma and Wuya stared blankly, waiting to see if Vexen would realize his penguin-ness. When seconds passed and he didn't, Yzma piped in: "I have one question."

"What is it?" Vexen sighed.

"Does this warship have turret guns?"

"Most likely," Vexen answered.

"Then I'm in," Yzma proclaimed.

Vexen turned his beak to Wuya. "Wuya?"

"It sounds like a recipe for wanton destruction and panic in the streets." Wuya grinned toothily. "I'm in."

"Very well." Vexen turned to leave the room. Then a realization struck him, and he turned back around in a furor. "YZMA!"

Yzma and Wuya braced themselves for it.

"WHAT have I told you about keeping your equipment on YOUR side of the laboratory? I expect you to have this all cleaned up IMMEDIATELY!" With that, the penguin that was Vexen turned on a heel and stormed away, still unaware of his own transformation.

Yzma and Wuya gaped at the door where he'd left in disbelief before erupting into loud, raucous laughter.

Mozenrath found the Huntsman in the latter's bedchamber, taking advantage of the momentary quiet to read a book. Quiet, of course, wasn't something easily come by among present company, not even when they could spread out across the entirety of a subterranean kingdom. In the Twilight Town manor, it was even more of a rarity. When Mozenrath approached, he looked up from his tome. "What did you find?" he asked in an even tone.

"We don't have the crystal yet," Mozenrath told him, "but we know where it is. More importantly, we may not have to share these close quarters for much longer."

"You've found us an alternate base of operations," the Huntsman deduced.

"That I have," Mozenrath confirmed. "We still have yet to claim it and make it functional, but we have our sights set on a target. Turns out Atmos' former warlord misplaced a kingdom-sized battleship in the wastelands, and you know what they say: finders keepers, losers weepers."

"I take it you're assembling a small army to commandeer this battleship," the Huntsman replied.

"A small WHAM ARMY, yes."

"I look forward to the result."

"You say that like you're not going to be there," Mozenrath accused.

"One of us must stay behind to protect the base of operations we currently have," the Huntsman explained.

"It's well protected enough," Mozenrath argued, somewhat crestfallen at the Huntsman's statement. "I've put up magical protection spells, and if all else fails, we have locks."

"It's still a big risk. Especially while the components of our spell are here. I do not wish to go chasing one artifact only to lose the four we have."

Mozenrath very nearly pouted. "I said it was a kingdom-sized battleship," he insisted. "We need all hands on deck. For all we know, it takes ten people to pilot."

"I get the sense you're simply attempting to get me to come along on your adventure for its own sake," the Huntsman observed.

Mozenrath rolled his eyes. "Vexen and Snatcher would have a few things to say about subtlety right about now that I don't want to hear."

"I realize you've come to see this alliance as something more than merely that: an alliance," the Huntsman stated calmly. "However, that is all it is. We must prioritize our mission above acquainting ourselves with each other further or participating in frivolities. I suppose that disappoints you."

"As your commander," Mozenrath said sternly, "I could order you to follow us to Atmos."

"I suppose you could. Are you going to?"

There was a heavy silence. Mozenrath broke it; "Between that attitude and that helmet, sometimes it's easy to forget you're human."

"And I suppose that's meant to offend me?"

"It was meant to be an observation."

There was another moment of silence before the Huntsman placed a bookmark in his book and set it on a nearby table. "Though I suppose it would be in my best interests to go with you after all. Before you say anything, it's only because causing dissent among this faction is something I'd rather avoid above all else."

"That works for me," Mozenrath replied casually before turning and stalking from the room, sweeping his cape dramatically on the way out.

The Huntsman wondered why he felt it necessary to flaunt that cape every time he left a room. He couldn't tell whether it was frustrating or endearing when it came to his perception of his leader.

Vexen eventually figured out he had been transformed into a penguin, and demanded a reversal, which was quickly administered by Yzma. Mozenrath, the Huntsman, Vexen, Yzma, Wuya, Roman, and Snatcher gathered in the atrium of the manor.

"Is everyone accounted for?" Yzma asked.

"Not Mim, Aghoul, or Neo," Mozenrath pointed out.

"They're out on their own quest," Roman explained.

"We're never going to hear the end of it that we took over a warship without them, are we?" Mozenrath groaned.

"They should be fine so long as we let them play with the guns," Wuya stated.

"Um, the onboard guns are MINE," Roman interjected.

"I call dibs on at least one turret gun!" Yzma cried.

"There will be ENOUGH GUNS FOR EVERYONE!" Mozenrath yelled. "Now, are we ready to move out, or not?"  
"This is your last chance for a bathroom break," Yzma added.

With no objections, Mozenrath created a large Corridor, and the team filed through. The Corridor disappeared as soon as they had all crossed over to Atmos.

Xerxes flew excitedly into the foyer, having heard the vestiges of his master's voice. "Mozenrath!" he cried in greeting. He looked around to see no one there. "…Snatcher?" He flew in and out of a few rooms. "Vexen?" He gloomily glid back into the atrium, getting the feeling he'd been left behind again. "…Anyone?"

...

Neo and Aghoul watched Mim prepare a crude potion within her cramped hut. "This locator spell should let us find where this MORGANA LE FAY is hiding!" Mim cackled as she crunched up dust with a pestle and emptied it into a bubbling cauldron over the fire.

"Doesn't a locator spell need something that belongs to the person you're looking for?" Aghoul pointed out. "Though I suppose we could always use your reputation."

This earned him a stomp on the foot from Mim, which Neo found hilarious.

"We don't need anything from Morgana, remember?" Mim pointed out. She removed a small golden ring from an upper shelf. "That peasant said wherever Merlin goes, she follows. This belonged to Merlin before I stole it off him during a duel, and it should lead us to wherever he is right now!"

"And if Morgana is a no-show?" Aghoul asked.

"Then we get Merlin to talk about where she is," Mim stated wickedly. "Between the three of us, we could get him to say a lot!"

Neo nodded her affirmation of this statement.

Mim dipped the ring into the cauldron, then held it aloft. It jerked free from her fingers, levitating in the air for half a minute. It then shot out the window. Mim, Aghoul, and Neo all crowded around to watch the ring careen directly up into the sky until it disappeared.

"And that means…what?" Aghoul asked.

"That he's not on this world," Mim huffed. "Well, looks like we'll have to try his other hideouts. Good thing I know all of them! I bet MORGANA doesn't have a list of all the worlds Merlin has houses on!" She cast a Corridor in the middle of the hut. "First stop: Traverse Town!"

...

Stork gradually came to, feeling the hard earth beneath his back and his parachute draped around him like a blanket. For a moment, he thought he was safely in bed. Then his memory returned to him all at once, and he snapped awake, kicking the parachute away.

He looked around at his surroundings. Glowing crystals were half buried in the dirt everywhere he looked. The Far Side was divided into Terras just as the side Stork had once called home was, and this particular one was familiar to him as Terra Lumina. Though such an identification hardly mattered at this time.

Everything was gone.

The Condor, Stork's love and joy, was now wreckage and shrapnel. Looking closer, he could see a few shards of the metal buried in the ground around him. The last time it had been obliterated, he'd had it rebuilt, but he didn't know where on the Far Side he could have that done. Terra Lumina didn't have a facility for shipbuilding; only repair. Terra Valhalla would have been Stork's best bet, but he had no skimmer with which to get there.

Then again, he wasn't even sure if there was a point to rebuilding the ship. Its crew was also gone. He couldn't imagine that any of the others – Aerrow, Finn, Piper, Junko, Radarr – would have survived.

Thinking about the explosion made Stork aware that several patches of his skin ached horribly; he looked over them to find vivid burn marks.

What did he have left, now that the Storm Hawks were all – he hated to think of the word – dead? No friends. No ship. He was all alone.

He'd landed close to the edge of the Terra. Stork heaved himself to his feet and took a few ginger steps toward the cliff side until he was able to see straight down the drop into the wastelands. He unbuckled his parachute from his back as he stared.

They were gone.

There was nothing left.

If there was nothing left, why should Stork remain? It would only take a simple step over the edge and he would no longer be alone in an empty world devoid of all he loved. Perhaps there really was a place, he thought, where the dead went when they left the land of the living. Just another side of the Atmos. Maybe he'd be able to see them all there.

He closed his eyes and took the single step, letting his body pitch over the edge.

Immediately, he was seized from behind; a pair of incredibly bony hands wrapped around his forearms and jerked him back to balance on the cliff. "THAT WAS CLOSE!" a gratingly loud voice announced. "YOU VERY NEARLY FELL OVER THE EDGE!"

Stork whipped around angrily to face the person who'd grabbed him; "That's what I was TRYING to d – "

He locked eyes with a skull, fleshless save for two eyeballs set in the sockets.

Stork let out a scream of terror, shoving the skeleton away. His survival instincts drove him to run away from the edge of the Terra; his feet tangled in the ropes of the parachute and he tripped, falling flat and hitting hard.

"Um…are you okay?" This feminine voice was accompanied by a pale hand, protruding from a black and red sleeve, extending down into Stork's field of vision.

Stork merely squeaked and curled up into a sitting position, hugging his knees. He looked up to get a better view of the one who'd offered him a hand: a girl, about the same age as Aerrow, dressed in black and red. A spiky-haired brunette boy with a similar color scheme stepped into view next to her.

"I…don't think he's okay," Sora told Ruby and Papyrus, the latter of whom stepped in closer to complete the circle around Stork.

"This isn't happening," Stork muttered to himself. "None of this is happening. This is all a nightmare."

"What's wrong?" Ruby asked, growing ever more concerned, as were her two fellows. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"They're gone," Stork whimpered. "They're all gone. My ship, everyone…" His voice cracked. "Everyone on it…" He steeled himself. "You should have just let me fall. I have nothing left to live for."

"WHAT?" Ruby, Sora, and Papyrus cried in unison.

"I SAID – "

"We heard you," Ruby said quickly to cut Stork off.

"What happened?" Sora asked, already knowing a terrible tale was coming.

"We were chasing Master Cyclonis," Stork explained breathlessly, his anxiety growing all the more as time passed that found him still alive. "She stole another crystal, and we were trying to get it back. All of a sudden, three people showed up out of nowhere on a rock that was floating in the air, and the next thing I knew, the ship…the ship!"

"WHAT DID THEY DO TO YOUR SHIP?" Papyrus inquired.

"It blew up in a green inferno," Stork muttered, really wishing these three would mind their own business, leave him alone, and let him die.

"Wait…" Sora was beginning to form a theory. "What did these three people look like?"

"I don't remember!" Stork snapped at him. "One of them was wearing all black and had horns, and two of them were wearing red. That's it. That's all I know."

"Maleficent," Sora muttered. "And she runs with plenty of people who wear red."

"You KNOW who blew up my ship and k…" Stork trailed off when he realized he couldn't bring himself to say the words "killed the crew."

"Yeah," Sora said somberly. "She hurts everyone she can. I wish we could've gotten here in time to fight her." He looked to Ruby and Papyrus, who he knew were thinking the same thing, even without knowing truly who Maleficent was: Maybe we could have stopped her.

"No offense," Stork said, "but that doesn't exactly make anything better."

"We know," Ruby told him.

"Um…conference?" Sora suggested.

He, Ruby, and Papyrus stepped off to the side. "We can't just leave him here," Sora stated softly. "Not when he wants to…you know…"

"The people on that ship must all have been his team," Ruby added. "His friends."

"WE SHOULD TAKE HIM WITH US!" Papyrus suggested. "HE COULD COME ON ALL OUR MANY ADVENTURES!"

"You know I can hear you, right?" Stork brought up. "You're just standing a few feet away."

The conference broke so all three of its members could turn back to face Stork. "So…what do you say?" Sora asked. "Do you want to come with us?"  
"No," Stork growled. "But let's say I was thinking about it. Where are you even going?"  
"We actually came here to stop someone else from messing with this world," Sora told Stork. "We didn't know Maleficent was here too."

"Unless they're all working together…" Ruby suggested.

"Huh." Sora considered it. "Maybe!"

"You say 'this world' like…you're…" Stork's mind rushed. "You're aliens, aren't you?"

"I…guess?" Ruby replied.

Stork scooted another few feet back.

"But we come in peace!" Ruby hastily added.

"WHAT DID YOU DO ON YOUR SHIP, ANYWAY?" Papyrus inquired.

"I was the carrier pilot and helmsman," Stork replied. "For the Storm Hawks."

"The what hawks?" Sora replied.

"Right, you wouldn't know," Stork realized. "Aliens. Always knew they were real, you know. 'There isn't life on any of the other planets, Stork!' 'You're making up more things that don't exist, Stork!' Well, now I can show them!" He realized what he'd said. "Actually, no. I can't show them." He hung his head, pressing it against his knees.

Sora knelt slowly beside Stork. "Tell me more about the Storm Hawks," he asked softly. "You make it sound like they were famous on this world."

"We were the defenders of Atmos," Stork answered, not looking up at Sora. "Both sides of it. Most Sky Knights stick to one Terra, but we went around the whole world recklessly endangering our lives on suicide missions in order to try and protect people. And you know what? Most of the time, we made it out just fine. Even when all the odds suggested we should have died horrible, painful, and slow deaths." Slowly, Stork raised his head to make eye contact with Sora. "Maybe after a while, I started thinking we were invincible against most forms of doom."

"SO YOU WERE A GREAT HERO!" Papyrus cried. "A HERO IS EXACTLY WHAT WE NEED TO HELP US STOP TORCHWICK AND MALEFICENT!"

"I don't know about 'hero'…" Stork said uncertainly. "I'm guessing that's what you three think you are."

"I know I'm a hero!" Sora said confidently. "I'm actually certified by Philoctetes as one!"

"I don't know if I'm a hero yet," Ruby admitted, "but I was hoping to become one. To protect other people and do good."

"I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM UNQUESTIONABLY HEROIC!" Papyrus announced.

Stork flashed the tiniest of smiles. This trio was strange to be sure, but they also reminded him of the friends he'd lost with those statements. Maybe, he thought, he should go with them after all. Then again, that was weighed against the deep pit within his stomach that urged him to just step over the edge of the Terra and fall into the void.

Sora gingerly put a hand on Stork's shoulder; Stork didn't brush it away. "We could really use somebody who knows this world well to show us around," he said encouragingly. "Maybe you could help us out with that, at least."

"You're not going to leave me alone until I agree to go with you, are you?" Stork sighed.

"Nnnnnnope!" Ruby said with a cheeky smile.

"I don't see why you care," Stork sighed. "You don't even know me."

"THEN WHY DON'T WE GET INTRODUCED?" Papyrus suggested. "AS I HAVE STATED, I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS! THIS IS RUBY ROSE AND THAT IS SORA, BOTH OF WHOM ARE ALSO QUITE GREAT!"

"What's your name?" Sora asked.

"Stork," Stork sighed. "My name is Stork."

"Well, Stork?" Sora asked. "What do you think?"

Stork went silent.

"If it helps," Sora reminded him, "we're going after the person who got rid of all your friends."

The look in Stork's eyes changed. "That's the only thing I want to do. Find that person, and make them PAY for taking MY ship and MY friends away from me."

"BUT WON'T THAT BE DOING TO HER WHAT SHE DID TO – " Papyrus began, but he was silenced when he saw both Ruby and Sora shaking their heads frantically for him to stop.

"I don't care," Stork muttered. "Maleficent took EVERYTHING away from me. She deserves to have everything taken away from her."

"We're gonna stop her," Sora reassured Stork. He sent a look to Papyrus that he hoped the latter could read. It came through loud and clear: We'll work out the details later. "So, you feeling ready to get up?"

"I guess."

Sora stood first, then offered Stork his hand. Stork gingerly took it, letting Sora pull him up to his feet.

"Welcome aboard, Stork," Sora stated officially.

"THERE'S JUST ONE THING THAT BOTHERS ME," Papyrus brought up. "YOU SURVIVED MALEFICENT COMPLETELY DESTROYING YOUR SHIP, RIGHT?"

"Yes…" Stork replied gingerly.

"WELL, MAYBE YOUR FRIENDS ALL LIVED, TOO!"

"They didn't," Stork sighed somberly.

"You saw them…?" Ruby asked softly.

"No," Stork admitted, "but there was no way they could have made it through that explosion."

"But YOU did," Sora reminded him. "Until we know for sure, we should have hope!"

Stork didn't think there was any hope that his friends were still alive, but he knew arguing it with Sora would just be futile. And if nothing else, there was now a little bit of hope in the situation in general. It came in the form of Sora, Ruby, and Papyrus.

...

It took Mozenrath and company a while to locate the downed Cyclonian airship. Using Corridors to teleport from Terra to Terra, they relied upon Vexen's observational skills and Snatcher's unparalleled ability to ask for directions until at last, they happened upon the expanse of wasteland where the ship had fallen. It truly was a marvel; its dark spire jutted upward to a dizzying height while the fortress beneath erupted into spine-like protrusions.

Inside, the ship seemed much more like a bastion than aircraft, with lofty rooms and winding hallways. "Feels like home to me," Wuya remarked, taking a look around at the dark architecture.

They happened upon the heart of the fortress, which contained a bizarre machine comprised of many levers and a dashboard. "I'm guessing this is the control room," Mozenrath observed.

Roman's eyes zeroed in on the dashboard. He had never seen such a glorious array of buttons in his life. Each and every one of them seemed to be begging him to press it. "I'm just going to go ahead and call this the best day ever," he stated before curbing his excitement and doing his best not to run toward the control panel. "Now, what shall we try first? How about…"

"NO!" the others yelled as one.

"THIS one!" Roman punched one of the buttons with a decisive index finger.

Everyone else flinched, expecting something to backfire upon them due to Roman's lack of care. What occurred was perhaps the most stunning result of all: absolutely nothing.

"Huh?" Roman pressed another button, then another. Nothing and nothing. He swept his arm across the entire dashboard.

Vexen sent Snatcher a meaningful glare; Snatcher returned an even more venomous one. Sighing, Vexen turned away. "Obviously, something is wrong with the internal mechanism of the ship," he stated. "I can root out the heart of the problem, but given the size of the craft, it will take me a while."

"Fine by me," Mozenrath replied. "That'll just give the rest of us a chance to look around and break in the new lair."

As the majority of the group dissipated, Roman halfheartedly jabbed one more button, then sighed deeply when nothing happened.

Yzma and Wuya made their way to the upper balconies. Stepping out on one of the topmost levels, they discovered an enormous rotating cannon affixed to the balcony. "Finally, a TURRET GUN!" Yzma cried, rushing forward to grab ahold of the cannon's controls.

"Don't hog it all to yourself!" Wuya hissed, making a grab for the controls as well.

"This is my gun!" Yzma seethed as the pair seized the cannon, shoving at each other for full possession of it. "Go find your own!"

Angrily, Wuya pulled one of the triggers. "It's dormant anyway!" she realized.

"If it's dormant, you don't need it," Yzma decided. "Now let go of it!"

Wuya's left eye and Yzma's right eye moved into the scope at the same time, and they both caught sight of the pair of humans moving quickly across the wasteland below, making a beeline for the warship. "Is that…!" Wuya gasped.

"Intruders!" Yzma cried.

That got both of them to drop the cannon and make a run for the lower levels.

Most of the group had reconvened in the control room already. "I seem to have located the problem," Vexen announced. "This ship runs almost entirely on crystal technology, and features several apertures for crystals in its weaponry, as well as an engine room designed to support a larger crystal. However, the crystals themselves are nowhere to be found. It would take a powerful type of stone indeed to manage workings of this magnitude."

"So all we're missing are some powerful crystals," Mozenrath translated. "I could probably dig up a few of those in the Black Sands."

"You think this thing could run on Dust power?" Roman suggested.

"I wouldn't recommend it," Vexen stated coldly. "My hypothesis is that this entire ship was built to run on very SPECIFIC crystals, else they would have been replaced by another would-be conqueror by now. Attempting to use a substitute could have disastrous results."

"How disastrous?" Mozenrath asked.

"I've been set on fire and immolated from the inside out once already," Vexen retorted. "I have no desire to go through it a second time."

"Intruders!" Yzma cried as she and Wuya barreled into the room. "INTRUDERS!"

"We spied two little sneaks through the upstairs scope!" Wuya clarified. "They're headed this way as we speak!"

"Actually, given the time it took us to get down here," Yzma realized, "they're probably already onboard."

The sound of footfalls alerted the seven to an approaching presence. When all eyes turned to the hallway from which the sound had come, it immediately ceased.

"We already know you're there!" Snatcher called out.

There was a brief pause. Then came the sound of hurried, pounding footsteps and a wild yell. A muscular man with spiky purple hair, dressed in crude armor and wielding an enormous crystal-studded mace, charged at the seven with all his might, bellowing "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" all the while.

Mozenrath flicked his wrist, and a swirl of black sand surrounded the mace-wielder's feet, causing them to stick to the ground. The mace-wielder nearly lost balance once his feet were halted; angered, he flung his mace at Mozenrath with a wild "RRRRAAGH!", letting it leave his hands completely. Mozenrath put up a hand, stopping the mace in midair inches before it would have obliterated him upon impact.

"A for effort," Mozenrath smugly told the purple-haired man, letting the mace clang to the ground. "F for execution."

"What's the big idea?" the man yelled, tugging at his feet fruitlessly. "Lemme outta here!"

Mozenrath turned to Yzma. "Didn't you say there was more than one?"

While the sorcerer's head was turned, an arrow zipped out of the hallway, headed directly for it. The Huntsman was quick to slash it out of the air, and halves of a crystal-tipped shaft clattered to rest alongside the mace.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," Mozenrath beckoned, twirling his hand in the air with his index finger extended as though he were gesturing for the other intruder to come out of hiding. She was dragged into the room by a blue aura. In contrast to the broadly muscled man, she was rail-thin, with spiky pink hair and lips that were painted to match the shade.

"You…idiot," she seethed through gritted teeth, eyes flicking toward the purple-haired man. "We could have gotten away if you hadn't just decided to RUN AT THEM."

"You fired the arrow!" the man snarled back.

"Who are you," Mozenrath asked, "and why are you onboard what is now OUR ship?"

"That's none of your – " the woman began.

"YOUR ship!" the man laughed. "HA! You're in big trouble now, 'cause this ship belongs to Cyclonia! And you just messed with Snipe and Ravess of Cyclonia!"

"DON'T TELL THEM OUR NAMES!" the woman, now identified as Ravess, cried in horror.

"Well, Snipe and Ravess of Cyclonia," Mozenrath announced, "I have both of you immobile and unable to attack us. I don't think I'm the one in trouble."

"I hadn't thought Cyclonia was still an active power," Vexen observed. "At least from hearsay."

"Well, uh, we don't exactly know what happened to everybody," Snipe admitted. "Since we got banished and all. But we thought if we came back to the old ship, then we could find out!"

"Shut up, shut up, shut UP!" Ravess hissed.

"I wouldn't tell him to shut up if I were you," Mozenrath told Ravess smugly. "After all, the more information you can give us, the fewer reasons we have to destroy you right here and now."

Ravess gulped audibly.

"So you don't know where anyone else associated with Cyclonia is," Mozenrath reiterated.

"Like my brother said," Ravess confirmed, "we were banished before the great battle. We saw this ship rise, but we weren't on board."

"So you wouldn't know how to power it," Mozenrath replied.

Ravess began to sweat. "Of course we know how to power it!" she said quickly, hoping to preserve her own life with what little information she could give.

"No, we don't," Snipe told her, confused. "We got banished before Cyclonis could tell us what the big plan was. Don't tell me you forgot!"

"What I MEANT to say," Ravess quickly amended, "was that, no, we don't know what powered this ship, but what we do know is that Master Cyclonis wanted desperately to get to the Far Side! Whatever crystal she used to levitate this ship must have been there!"

"Now we're getting somewhere," Mozenrath stated with a satisfied smile.

"Y'know," Snipe thought out loud, "THAT'S probably where Cyclonis is. Maybe we should've found a way there to look for her!"

Mozenrath turned back to his six cohorts. "It looks like the Far Side is where we want to be, too," he pointed out. "It should only take one Corridor to get us there."

"You can get to the Far Side?" Ravess asked incredulously.

"Yes…" Mozenrath turned back to size up Snipe and Ravess. "I wonder."

"You're NOT thinking what I believe you're thinking," Vexen sighed.

"They do know this world better than we do," Mozenrath reminded him.

"Hey, what are you tryin' to rope us into?" Snipe growled.

"Not only did your Master Cyclonis banish you," Mozenrath pointed out, "but I'm willing to bet she has only half the powers we do."

"Wanna bet?" Snipe urged.

"Snipe, don't – " Ravess said worriedly.

"If you need a demonstration…" Mozenrath smirked. "Vexen, if you would do the honors."

Several ice spikes jutted up from the floor around Snipe, each stopping mere centimeters before they could pierce his skin. Snipe shivered, looking worriedly at the spikes.

"Too cold for you?" Mozenrath asked; he waved a hand, and blue flames swallowed the spikes, melting them completely and converting them to steam. The flames formed a ring around Snipe, making him feel no safer than he had when Vexen had him surrounded with ice.

"Wuya," Mozenrath then said, "if you could – "

"I'm already ahead of you," Wuya replied smugly. She formed the rising steam into the shape of a dragon, one that reared back its head and blew green fire down at Snipe, mildly singing his hair. The dragon soared up high, then dove, flicking its steamy tail at Snipe's face.

"We believe you!" Ravess whimpered. "You're far more powerful than Cyclonis ever was…or could be!"

"Now you're just kissing up," Snatcher observed.

"But I like that," Mozenrath admitted.

The fire and steam all vanished in an instant. "I'm not completely unreasonable," Mozenrath went on, adjusting the fingers of his gauntlet. "If you guide us through this world far enough to get the crystal we need, we'll let you both live. Sound fair?"

"And how do we know you'll hold up your end of the bargain?" Ravess asked.

"Do you see any other way out of the situation you're in?" Mozenrath posed.

"All right," Ravess sighed. "We'll help you."

"Try and shoot any of us," Mozenrath warned her and Snipe, "or bash any of us with a mace, and our deal is off."

"You mean you'll let us go if we try to kill you?" Snipe reiterated, confused.

"NO," Ravess sighed. "He means he'll kill US without giving us a chance."

"Oh, I like her," Wuya whispered to Yzma.

"I prefer the stupid one," Yzma whispered back. "They're always better at taking orders than the smart ones."

"We're in," Snipe decided. "And as a bonus, we'll bash all your enemies for ya!"

A hand tapped on Mozenrath's shoulder. "Lord Mozenrath," Snatcher announced. "A word."

"Don't move," Mozenrath ordered his two prisoners.

"We CAN'T move," Ravess growled.

Mozenrath and Snatcher stepped off to the side, speaking in hushed tones. "You realize if they run into that master of theirs whilst investigating the other side of this world," Snatcher informed Mozenrath, "depending on how powerful this Cyclonis truly is, we may very well kiss their loyalty goodbye. And the three of them against us…"

"Then we'll just have to be careful about who we send to the Far Side," Mozenrath whispered. "But I'm not worried. If I could incapacitate two Cyclonian soldiers so easily, how bad could their master really be?"

"You've really got to stop saying such things," Snatcher groaned. "It invites disaster is what it does."

Mozenrath turned back to the group at large, flicking his hand out toward Ravess and Snipe. Ravess found herself mobile once more while Snipe was finally able to pull his feet out of the sticky sand. "You two will lead a faction of us to the Far Side," Mozenrath announced. "The rest will stay here and make sure no one gets to this ship first." He turned to the Huntsman specifically; "If you want to stay behind and guard a base, now is the time."

"I assume you'll be going to the Far Side," the Huntsman stated.

"I will," Mozenrath confirmed.

"Then I believe it would be in my best interest to accompany you," the Huntsman decided. "After all, we don't yet know what dangers we may face." This was said with a pointed look toward Ravess.

"You think we're going to turn traitor on you, don't you?" Ravess sighed. "Haven't you heard of innocent until proven guilty?"  
"I have," the Huntsman told her. "Whether I subscribe to it is another matter entirely."

"I'll need at least one more person to come to the Far Side with us," Mozenrath announced.

Roman clutched the dashboard protectively.

"I believe it is in my best interest that I stay here as well," Vexen pointed out. "Perhaps I can discover more about the ship's workings and even get parts of it running again."

"If it's all the same to you, I'll be remaining with Torchwick," Snatcher stated.

Yzma threw her hands up in a dramatic shrug; "Eh, why not?" She stepped forward, volunteering herself to go with Mozenrath and the Huntsman.

"Then I might as well stay here," Wuya decided. "In case something these three idiots can't handle comes calling."

That earned her angry glares from Roman, Snatcher, and Vexen…as well as from Yzma, who warned her, "Don't touch my turret gun while I'm gone."

"Oh, I will," Wuya replied with a grin.

"If that's all arranged," Mozenrath said decisively, "then let's go bring back some flying horsepower."

He cast a Corridor, and he, the Huntsman, Yzma, Ravess, and Snipe crossed through to the Far Side.

...

Aghoul, Neo, and Mim arrived in a town where the tall buildings were strung with an array of multicolored lights to offset the deep dark of the night sky above; a vista of stars was offered to view.

"What is this place, anyway?" Aghoul asked.

"It's a strange little world," Mim explained. "It exists for poor little lost lambs whose worlds have been destroyed to come live somewhere safe. At least, they THINK it's safe. They don't know I know about it!"

Her gaze flicked upward, and she gasped. "LOOK, LOOK!"

"At WHAT?" Aghoul responded; Neo flinched.

"All those stars up there are the other worlds!" Mim explained. "This is one of the few places you can see them all lined up! And one of them's going out right now!"

Aghoul and Neo craned their heads up to the sky just in time to see a star go completely supernova, radiating a brief flash of neon color across the sky before fading into nothingness. To see what they knew to be a planet of hundreds of thriving civilizations suddenly disperse into utter destruction and despair for nothing of its former beauty to remain afterward was nothing short of gorgeous.

After watching in awe, Aghoul voiced a sudden thought that had occurred to him: "That better not have been Twilight Town."

Mim shrugged. "We'll find out when we get back."

She informed them that they were standing in the midst of the First District, and where they wanted to be was the Third District. She proudly led the way to said district, where at the far end of an open arena presumably used for festivals, there was a wooden door marked with a flame symbol inconspicuously tucked away.

"It's sealed off by magic," Mim explained. "You have to use fire to open it."

"He drew the key to breaking the spell right out on the front of the door?" Aghoul was astonished.

Mim cast altogether too much fire at the wooden door, and it burned to ashes from the center outward. Satisfied, Mim strode through, with a delighted Neo and an impressed Aghoul in tow.

Beyond the door was an unexpected sight that completely contrasted with the brightly lit town outside: a stone cavern dominated by a small freshwater lake, with a patchwork-esque house situated on a small island in its midst. "That's where Merlin lives when he stays here," Mim said softly, gleefully.

"What's the plan?" Aghoul asked. "Invasion?"

"Actually, I was thinking we could just…wait."

"Wait? For what?"

Mim marched forward until she'd splashed right into the lake. Once there, her form began to shift; she grew and grew, filling up the lake. Great magenta tentacles thicker than tree trunks snaked in and out of the water. Mim had become a kraken.

"We wait for THIS!" Mim announced, letting out a giggle that came out as literal bubbles while she sank below the surface to hide.

Aghoul cleared his throat loudly, then beckoned Neo back to the doorframe. "That Mim," he remarked with a wave of the hand. "So beautiful, and such a kind soul!"

There was no response.

"Good," Aghoul sighed. "Judging from how she didn't make my death more of the permanent kind, she can't hear us. And if she can't hear us, then it's the perfect time for you and me to talk about…" He winked and nudged Neo in the side. "Relationships."

Neo immediately slapped Aghoul so hard that his neck cracked a degree off center.

"Not…" Aghoul placed his hands on his chin and the back of his head. "With…" He jerked his bones back into place with a crack. "You. With HER." He gestured to the lake.

Neo mouthed an understanding "Oh."

"I haven't met a woman that LIVELY since the Agrabanian princess," Aghoul confessed. "I couldn't control her no matter how hard I try. I didn't think I'd like that, but it turns out that's what makes me want her even more than any wife I've ever had."

Neo nodded fervently, smiling broadly.

"Which brings up the question of how to win her," Aghoul muttered. "You're a woman. What would you suggest?"

Though Neo was a little offended that Aghoul believed her femininity made her an authority on all women, she thought on it anyway. She then drew her hands around her neck, creating the illusion of wearing a heavy gold necklace.

"Trap her with a cursed necklace?" Aghoul said in disbelief. "First of all, she'd find a way to turn it back on me even worse than the last sorceress did. Second of all, a woman like her deserves a little better, wouldn't you think?"

Neo smacked her forehead with the heel of her hand.

"Oh, you meant give her a precious necklace as a gift!" Aghoul realized. "An enchanted amulet with powers to actually HELP her!"

Neo nodded all the more enthusiastically before dismissing the illusion.

"Now all I have to figure out is where to get one of those…hmm." Aghoul thought it over. "Back in the Seven Deserts, magical amulets were a denarius a dozen. I wonder if this Traverse Town has any – "

A loud splash caught his attention. Mim was smacking the water with one tentacle and calling out, "AGHOUL! NEO!"

The pair rushed over to the edge of the lake.

"It's been too long!" Mim huffed, surfaced just enough that her mouth was above water. "Go see if anyone's home!"

"Right away, dear!" Aghoul said before swiftly hopping across a pathway of stones to get to the house. Neo mimed a giggle before following.

"…Dear?" Mim repeated once she was left alone.

"Here's the other thing," Aghoul whispered to Neo. "She's positively gruesome in a way I've never known before. When she talks decapitation, my heart melts. When she says 'fatal disease,' I can't say no! And if I'm being honest, the tentacles make her all the more desirable."

Neo pointed back to Mim with one hand and Aghoul with another before forming both hands into the halves of a heart.

They slipped into the house through a back door to find it completely devoid of furniture or decoration, let alone any powerful wizards. All that was there was an empty gray chamber. After poking and prodding the walls to make sure Merlin couldn't be hidden anywhere and discovering an equally empty attic, they returned to the outside of the house. "No one's home!" Aghoul reported.

In moments, Mim was human again, albeit soaking wet, and standing on the shore. "Drat," she muttered. "Oh, well. Onto the next world!"

"Where are we going this time?" Aghoul asked.

"You're going to hate it," Mim explained as she cast the Corridor. "It's a ridiculously sunny and happy kingdom. Even the name is stupid. 'Enchancia.'"

...

Cyclonis had led Maleficent, Jafar, and Cinder to the heart of a deep, dark forest comprised of thick trees and tangled canopies: this was Terra Nox. Here, swathed in shadows, the four found the seclusion they needed in order to plot.

"My empire on the other side was destroyed when the Storm Hawks found a way to overload the crystal that powered my warship," Cyclonis explained. "They killed my best warrior in the process. If we had that ship back, we could devastate Terra after Terra until we found out which one had the book you're looking for."

"Could the crystal be replaced?" Cinder asked.

"Easily," Cyclonis answered. "My family has ties on this side of Atmos. I could retrieve another simply by stating that the daughter of Master Anarchis demanded it. The ship is another matter. It went down on the other side."

"It could be easily retrieved," Jafar assured her. He produced a black slate, a sheet of parchment, and an inked quill pen from thin air, handing it to her. "Show us where it can be found."

Cyclonis set quill to paper, sketching out a map of the side of Atmos she'd grown up on and where her ship had gone down. "You know, I'd never heard of the Book of Prophecies before you turned up," she remarked. "If I didn't know better, I'd say your informant lied to you."

"We'll deal with her if that turns out to be the case," Cinder stated. "In the meantime, we'll leave no stone unturned."

"If nothing else, we can establish our names upon this world as those to be reckoned with," Jafar added.

Cinder turned to him; "I like the way you think."

Cyclonis finished the map and handed it over to Jafar. "Cinder Fall and I shall see to securing the ship before any other claimant does," the genie stated.

"As for the crystal," Maleficent told Cyclonis, "that shall be our duty."

Looking over the freshly drawn map, Jafar cast a Corridor. "After you, my lady."

Cinder nodded politely; "Why, thank you." She strode through, and Jafar followed.

"Before we go to Terra Valhalla to retrieve the crystal," Cyclonis told Maleficent, "I want to call in some reinforcements."

"What did you have in mind?" Maleficent asked.

"As a matter of fact," Cyclonis informed her with a smirk, "they're already here."

Maleficent then became aware of the hundreds of pairs of luminescent eyes that watched her from the darkness of the forest, from between branches and around trunks.

"Meet the Nightcrawlers," Cyclonis introduced.

"I am quite pleased to make their acquaintance," Maleficent replied calmly.

...

The town of Briarwood had been left in shambles by Maleficent's invasion. All around, people were trying to pick up the pieces and live out their lives as per usual. The Rock-Porium record shop was no exception, with employees Nick Russell, Chip Thorn, Xander Bly, and Vida and Madison Rocca sweeping up broken glass and putting merchandise back on shelves. They did so halfheartedly, knowing the damage that had been caused to them was much greater than that of a few broken windows.

The store owner, Toby Slambrook, was arguably in an even worse condition. He simply sat behind the counter, staring glassy-eyed out at the sales floor. Even his usually wild and curly hair seemed subdued and slack. After so long, he sighed and announced, "You can head out for the day."

"Are you sure?" Vida asked in concern.

"Yeah, go on, get out of here." Toby waved them away. "I'm sure you have other things you need to check up on. Power Ranger things."

"We really should check in and see how the others are doing on Rootcore," Xander said softly.

The others agreed. "Thanks, Toby," Madison said as the group filed out one by one.

"Yeah…" Toby muttered, his gaze unfocused.

Nick was the last one to leave. Before he did, he turned back to address Toby. "We'll find her," he said determinedly. "I promise."

Toby didn't respond.

As Nick exited the record store, he, Xander, Chip, Vida, and Madison began their walk toward the forest. "I heard what you told Toby," Xander stated. "It's great that you have so much hope, but where else are we going to look? We've already checked out everywhere the dark forces would have been holding Necrolai and Leelee."

Nick shook his head. "There has to be something we missed."

"What if there are mystical realms outside of Briarwood?" Chip wondered out loud. "What if they took them to a whole other WORLD?"

"It's not outside the realm of possibility," Madison suggested.

"But what would we even do then?" Vida asked.

Nobody had an answer.

They entered the tree portal that took them into the expansive forests that made up the mystical realm. A short walk through the forest led them to what was once a massive wooden dragon's head set into an enormous tree; it had been burned so that it was no longer recognizable. It still functioned as a gate, but the inside of the tree they called Rootcore had been ravaged, all of its magical devices broken or stolen. Through this mess, five people wandered: the sorceress Udonna, her husband Leanbow, their niece and apprentice Clare, their brother in arms Daggeron, and the catlike genie Jenji whom they called friend.

"Did you find anything yet?" Nick asked as the five youths walked through the door.

"I'm afraid not," Udonna said sadly. "We haven't been able to repair any of the devices that could show us where our enemies came from or where they took Necrolai and Leelee."

"I thought I had the right spell to put the crystal ball back together," Clare said sheepishly, "but…it kind of just broke into more pieces." Her eyes flickered to a pile of glimmering shards.

"You'll be the first to know the minute we figure anything out," Daggeron promised.

"What about the Xenotome?" Vida asked.

Udonna shook her head. "We still haven't found it. We think it was taken by the enemy."

"I'm still concerned with how suddenly our new enemies appeared, and how powerful they were," Leanbow admitted. "We were only just able to fend them off, and even so, we still lost Necrolai and Leelee to them. I don't recall facing anything like them during the war."

"I still think they're from another world," Chip pointed out.

"I suppose we can't discount the possibility," Udonna admitted.

"We have things under control here for now," Leanbow stated. "If there is other business you must attend to, you may."

"What else can we do?" Madison wondered out loud.

"We could check out the rest of the forest," Xander suggested. "See if anyone needs our help."

"I like that plan," Chip said with a nod.

Nick, Vida, Chip, Madison, and Xander then found themselves patrolling the forest, keeping eyes and ears out for trouble. "You think they'll come back?" Xander mused. "The dragon lady and her friends, I mean."

"I hope not," Chip said with a shudder. "I'm not sure we could take them again!"

The quintet became alerted to the sound of very loud sobbing coming from nearby. "That sounds like…" Madison began.

She didn't have to finish. They all knew who it was and exactly why he was crying. They adjusted their course in the direction of the noise until they found a certain troblin (half troll, half goblin) dressed in rags sitting upon a felled tree, weeping into a handkerchief.

"Phineas?" Madison greeted as the five drew closer.

"Oh…" Phineas hastily stuffed the handkerchief into his pocket. "Hi." He gave a half-hearted wave.

"You okay?" Nick asked, though he already knew the answer.

"I, uh…" Phineas sighed. "No. I'm not. I just…I wish I knew where she was…and that they weren't doin' anything bad to her…"

"Don't worry," Vida tried to reassure him. "If we know Leelee, she's going to be the one dishing out butt-kicking to THEM."

"I just want her to be safe," Phineas continued, eyes watering. "I wish I could find her. Has…has Udonna been able to…"

"Not yet," Madison said somberly.

"Oh," Phineas responded. "If I knew where she was, I'd go right after her and make sure she was okay."

"I'm sure she's fighting her way back to you as hard as she can," Madison replied. "She loves you a lot."

"An' I love her a lot," Phineas lamented. "Leelee…wherever you are…I hope you're okay…an'…an' I miss you. If I knew where to look, I'd find you."

"Wait!" Chip cried, looking past Phineas. "What's that?"

"Huh?" Phineas turned his gaze to where Chip had indicated.

A bright glow of pure light had appeared from nowhere, sparkling brightly. It grew larger and brighter until it was a shining mass that reached from the ground to about six feet up.

"It looks like some kind of portal," Chip identified.

"This is going to sound crazy," Madison stated, "but what if Phineas' love for Leelee opened up some kind of portal to wherever she is?"

"Couldn't hurt to take a look," Xander said with a shrug.

"But what if it leads somewhere we can't get back from?" Madison worried.

"It might," Vida told her, "but I don't feel like we can just let something like this get away. It's obviously important. We'll just have to be confident we can deal with whatever's on the other side."

"And we WILL get back here," Nick insisted. "No matter what."

"Whaddaya say, Phineas?" Xander asked.

Phineas stood bolt upright. "If there's a chance Leelee might be in there…"

"Then let's go." Nick strode toward the portal, waving on the others. He, Phineas, Vida, Madison, and Chip all approached it with hardly a second thought; only Madison gave a look back to the forest before stepping into the light, wondering if this was a good idea after all. But Vida was right. Leaving the portal alone would have been a grave missed opportunity; it had obviously appeared for a reason. She turned back toward the light, walking into it, letting it envelop her.

When she came through to the other side, she and her five companions were standing in the midst of a bustling town square built of cobblestone. "What is this place?" she wondered out loud.

The others wondered the same thing as they looked around at the metropolitan heart of Radiant Garden.


	23. Boom Goes the Cannon

23\. Boom Goes the Cannon

After conversing with Stork some more, Sora, Ruby, and Papyrus were able to learn of his deep attachment to the ship he called the Condor. Not knowing where else to begin, they decided to quest to help him rebuild it, and he pointed out a particular locale upon which to begin.

"Terra Valhalla," he specified. "It's sort of like a…hub on this side of the world. They have the most advanced airship technology over here, and it's also pretty likely somebody there will know something about this…Maleficent."

Once Sora had led the group back to the Gummi ship, Stork brightened a bit. "This…is your airship?" He quickly darted over to the side of the ship, running his hand over the spotless, candy-colored hull.

"It's more than just an airship," Sora laughed. "It goes to other worlds, too! It's how we get around!"

"It looks to be in peak condition," Stork muttered. "Aerodynamic wings constructed of…unknown material, streamlined cockpit, dual thrusters…this thing doesn't run on crystal energy, does it?"

"Nope!" Sora shook his head. "It's all Gummi! Same stuff the wings are made out of!"

"The fuel is the same as the construction material," Stork stated in disbelief.

"It doesn't exactly need fuel," Sora explained. "The stuff it's made out of just…makes it go."

Stork stared at him for a while before blurting, "That's physically impossible."

"JUST THINK OF IT LIKE MAGIC!" Papyrus offered.

"Besides, didn't you say you believed in stuff other people thought was impossible all the time?" Ruby added.

"Point," Stork relented. "All right. I won't question the inner workings of your magic ship."

Once the quartet settled in, with Sora and Ruby up front, Papyrus taking one of the central seats, and Stork sitting as far back as possible, the ship lifted off and began a course over the Atmosian Terras.

"I wonder what Terra Valhalla will be like," Sora wondered out loud.

"You think it'll be covered in monsters?" Ruby suggested.

"If it is, then we know what to do!" Sora laughed. "A couple of strikes from Crescent Rose should teach them a lesson!"

As Sora and Ruby launched into more speculation about what the upcoming Terra could hold, Papyrus couldn't help but look back at the rear row of seats, where Stork had his forehead pressed against the window, a blank look upon his face. He was obviously still quite dismayed, and seeing so made Papyrus feel a little bit dismayed himself. He made his way back to the seat adjacent to Stork, planting himself beside the gloomy Merb. "WHAT ARE YOU THINKING ABOUT?"

"Oh, nothing," Stork sighed, not turning to face Papyrus. "Just the fact that everything I ever loved is gone forever, and we're on our way to replace literally the only thing that CAN be replaced."

"WELL, I SUPPOSE THAT'S…ONE THING YOU COULD THINK ABOUT," Papyrus replied.

"Let me guess: you have a different suggestion," Stork groaned. "You think if I just think about happy things like rainbows and baby chickens, everything will get better."

"WELL…UM…NO?" Papyrus answered. "BUT YOU ARE AMONG FRIENDS NOW. AND WE'RE GOING TO DO OUR ABSOLUTE BEST TO MAKE YOU SMILE AGAIN!"

"I wasn't much of a smiler to begin with," Stork grunted.

"WHOA!" Sora yelled as he swerved to avoid crashing into another airship. Ruby clutched the dashboard instinctively, and Stork flinched.

An idea took shape in Papyrus' mind. "YOU SAID YOU WERE A PILOT, RIGHT?"

"Yes," Stork sighed.

"DO YOU WANT TO DRIVE OUR SHIP?"

Stork didn't reply.

"SORA!" Papyrus called up to the front seat. "CAN STORK DRIVE THE SHIP?"

"I don't see why not!" Sora called back, looking toward Papyrus and Stork.

"EYES ON THE SKY!" Stork cried, suddenly whipping around to look at Sora. Sora turned to look out the front window just in time to avoid smacking into a flock of birds.

"THAT'S IT!" Stork marched up toward the driver's seat. "OUT."

"Okay then!" Sora and Stork traded places quickly, and Sora, Ruby, and Papyrus all noticed the immediate change that came over Stork once he settled into the driver's seat and took the wheel. His tense shoulders relaxed; his eyes gained focus. And no one could deny that the ship's course was immediately smoother as soon as Stork had taken over.

Stork himself was the first to break the silence: "…Thank you."

"ANYTIME, NEW FRIEND!" Papyrus replied cheerily.

After some time, Stork dared remove one hand from the wheel to gesture out the front window at a spire that reached high up into the sky, bordered by a valley filled with gleaming lights. "It's not exactly the monster-hunting paradise you were talking about," he informed the group, "but welcome to Terra Valhalla."

...

Not long after Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, and Stork had left Terra Lumina, a smaller ship departed it, making way to the same destination. After all, Terra Valhalla had far more advanced medical technology than anywhere else on the Far Side, and the ship's most important passenger was in dire need of care.

...

As Pete stormed down the dirt path that ran between the green fields of the brightly sunny world, he was not happy in the slightest. "That Maleficent!" he grumbled as he stomped along, leaving big, sloppy footprints in the dirt. "She thinks I'm not onto her, but ohohoho, I know her game! She just sent me to this garbage dump of a world to get me outta the way! Well, I'll show her! I'll bring back that thing she sent me for in a coupla hours! Then she'll HAVE to take me seriously!"

The path ahead led to a foreboding fortress, and as Pete neared it, he very nearly quailed. He'd been told that this world contained the homes of several very powerful sorcerers and faeries, and subsequently been placed on the path of the most powerful of them all. Which Pete had resented, seeing it as yet another instance of Maleficent thinking she needed to spell things out for Pete to get anywhere. Over this bastion, the skies turned gray and cloudy, matching Pete's mood a little better. A pair of imps marched back and forth in front of the fortress' entryway, bearing sharp spears. As Pete drew closer, the imps both halted and jabbed their weapons toward him. "Ay!" one of them grunted. "You're not allowed in here!"

"Oh yeaaaaaaah?" Pete reached down and grabbed each imp by the back of the collar. After a couple spins, he launched the screaming imps high into the air; they flew past the horizon to where he couldn't see where they landed. Brushing his hands off, Pete let himself into the cavernous front hallway.

A sorceress clad in a dusk-colored gown, with black hair shot through by a streak of bright white, stood in a chamber decorated with a scattering of magical devices but absolutely packed with mirrors. It was into one of these mirrors she stared at the moment, brushing back her hair and admiring herself. "Beautiful as usual," she told the reflection staring back.

The door to her chamber crashed down in a shower of splinters as Pete barged into the room. "HEY YOU!" he yelled, pointing at the sorceress.

"How DARE you!" the sorceress growled, spinning toward Pete and taking a wand up into her hand. With a flick, she had Pete bound up in cords made of pure magic; Pete struggled, but could not break them. "Who do you think you are to come barging in on me like that?"

"The name's Pete!" Pete growled. "And I'm here on a mission from Maleficent!"

"Maleficent!" The sorceress gasped. "THE Maleficent?"

"Yeah, that's the one!" Pete confirmed. "How many Maleficents you know?"  
"That's right," the sorceress recalled. "Reports did say she'd been traveling with a bloated, imbecilic cat. That must be you."

"YEAH, YOU BETCHA THAT'S – heyyyyyyyy, wait a minute!"

"What is it you want?" the sorceress asked haughtily, flicking her wand and dispelling the cords of magic.

"I came here lookin' for this!" Pete reached into one of his many pockets and retrieved a scroll, which he unrolled to reveal a detailed drawing of a brilliantly violet teardrop-shaped stone set on a chain.

The sorceress gasped. "The Amulet of Avalor?"

"Yeah…that!" Pete affirmed; he'd forgotten the name until the woman had pointed it out just then. "You help me get this, you're in on Maleficent's big scheme! Capisce?"

"Capisce indeed!" the sorceress said giddily. "I know EXACTLY where to start looking for THAT."

"Good!" Pete replied. "Then we're in business, Miss…uh…what was your name again?"

"Morgana le Fay," the sorceress answered.

...

Mozenrath stepped proudly out of the Corridor of Darkness onto the soil of Terra Lumina. The Huntsman, Yzma, Ravess, and Snipe strode after him, looking around at the glowing crystals embedded into the ground.

"So THIS is the Far Side!" Ravess gasped.

"I don't see what's so special about it," Snipe grumped. "Cyclonis spent all her time trying to get over HERE? For THIS?"

"We've literally been here ten seconds," Ravess groaned. "You don't know what's here that Cyclonis wanted!"

"Actually, we do," Yzma reminded them. "A crystal to power the battleship."

"I don't suppose your old master left directions to wherever that could be found on this side of the world, did she?" Mozenrath asked.

"You think Master Cyclonis ever told us ANYTHING important?" Ravess seethed.

"We'd best begin our search here, then," the Huntsman decided, striding toward the heart of the Terra. "And Mozenrath, try not to give away our position as badly as you nearly did the first time you came to this world."

"You weren't there for that," Mozenrath argued, stepping out in front of the Huntsman to take the lead of the group. "You don't get to judge."

As they made their way into rockier terrain, they completely passed by the resting place of an unconscious girl without noticing. They were on higher ground, and she lay down below. As Snipe brought up the rear of the group, his foot dislodged a rock that went rolling down the hillside to where the girl lay, and the noise of it buzzed into her brain, gently waking her. The quintet of villains was already long gone by the time she snapped into consciousness, and that offered her a moment of respite, for two of them would surely have recognized her.

After registering the sound of the rock, Piper woke up with a start.

Her breathing became fast and shallow. The last thing she remembered was the complete and total destruction of the Condor whilst she and her squad – her friends, her family – were all still aboard. Propping herself up on an arm, she cast a look around, hoping one of the others could be located nearby. Unfortunately, the only thing she could locate was the twisted wreckage of her skimmer.

She winced; her injuries from the explosion were catching up to her. Her staff, miraculously undamaged, lay next to her, and she dislodged an ice crystal from its tip in order to run it over her burns. This offered some relief.

"I gotta get into town and see if any of the others made it out," she muttered. She vainly hoped that someone could have been around to hear, but alas, she spoke only to herself.

With some effort, she hoisted herself off the ground and set out for civilization.

The architecture of Terra Lumina was mostly wooden, with conical thatched roofs on circular buildings. Homes and shops were nestled in between rock formations that housed glowing crystals whose only purpose was to give off light. It was regarded as one of the safest Terras on the Far Side, as its constant luminescence repelled the Nightcrawlers. Once Mozenrath, the Huntsman, Yzma, Snipe, and Ravess arrived in the center of civilization, they conducted quick reconnaissance in order to find their best lead.

Upon a reunion, the Huntsman indicated a larger building. "It appears to be a crystal shop. Various sorts are sold there. I assume they are all relatively common. Nothing similar to what we're looking for, but it may be the best lead we have on this Terra."

"So what's the plan?" Yzma asked.

"I've got a plan!" Snipe smacked the palm of his hand with his weapon. "We go in there and I BASH THE GUY'S HEAD IN WITH MY MACE!"

Ravess made an "ugggh" sound before replying, "If we BASH the clerk, we won't have time to GET ANY INFORMATION OUT OF HIM."

"We'll just have to use our powers of persuasion," Mozenrath resolved.

"In other words, you'll be asking yourself what Snatcher would do the whole time," Yzma translated.

"No," Mozenrath growled.

"Oh, right," Yzma amended. "Up until the point at which we need to force information out of the clerk through violence, at which time you will ask yourself what Roman Torchwick would do."

"I WILL ASK MYSELF WHAT I WOULD DO," Mozenrath replied sternly. "AND RIGHT NOW, I WOULD – "

"BASH THEM WITH A MACE!" Snipe volunteered.

"Why do I even TRY with you?" Ravess moaned.

Moments later, they entered the shop to find a lone clerk working the counter. "Can I help you?" he asked.

"You might be able to." Ravess strode confidently up to the counter. "After all, I am one of the Talons, working under…MASTER CYCLONIS."

It wasn't true at all anymore, but it was the argument the five had come up with that they thought would best convince the sales clerk to talk.

"I'm…afraid I don't know who that is," the clerk replied honestly.

"You know, Master Cyclonis," Ravess went on. "Master of all Cyclonia."

"I'm…not sure what Cyclonia is," the clerk admitted.

"You're just holding out on me because you KNOW she banished me, aren't you?" Ravess asked through gritted teeth.

"Ravess…" Mozenrath cautioned.

"If dropping names won't make you talk…" Ravess fitted an arrow to her bow, drawing it to aim at the clerk's head. "Perhaps THIS will."

"RAVESS!" Yzma shoved the archer aside, giving the clerk her best smile. "What we mean to say is…do you happen to have any crystals meant to power up a battleship the size of an entire kingdom?"  
"I'm afraid not," the clerk said, visibly shaken from the near attempt on his life. "I didn't even know that was a thing people could do."

"Let me put it to you this way," Yzma rephrased. "TELL US WHERE WE CAN FIND THAT SORT OF CRYSTAL, AND SNIPE WILL BASH YOUR HEAD IN WITH HIS MACE!"

"YEAH-HAH-HAAAAAH!" Snipe laughed, raising the mace in joy.

"She meant 'or,'" Mozenrath and the Huntsman said as one, deadpan.

"Listen!" the clerk babbled. "I don't know anything about that kind of stuff! I just sell basic crystals! I really wish I could help you, but I can't!"

At that moment, Piper entered the shop, having come to find new crystals to replace those she'd lost in the great blast and see if any of her squadron had come to do the same. Her eyes immediately zeroed in on Snipe raising his mace and Ravess holding her bow off to the side. "Snipe? RAVESS?"

The siblings turned to face her. "YOU!" they both barked.

"And who's this?" Mozenrath asked as he, Yzma, and the Huntsman all followed Ravess and Snipe's direction.

"One of the Sky Knights that tried to keep Cyclonia at bay," Ravess informed the others, a sly smile spreading out over her face. She took a few steps toward Piper, watching as the girl grew nervous; "But where are all your Storm Hawk friends now? Why are you all alone all of a sudden?"

"That's not important," Piper replied, steeling herself and clutching her staff. She looked to the left and right at the shelves of crystals. "What's important now is that I can't let you hurt innocent people in the name of…whatever scheme you're doing this time!" She looked to Yzma, to Mozenrath, to the Huntsman. Who were these three? Were they also Talons?

"Awwww, does the pwecious widdle girl think she can stop us?" Mozenrath mocked. "Please. Either go pick on someone your own size, or you'll figure out the hard way that we're not so noble."

"I say we bash her anyway!" Snipe laughed.

The Huntsman put up a hand. "She may be the key to what we're looking for if she has fought Cyclonia in the past."

"Who even ARE you?" Piper asked.

"Cyclonia had its heyday," Mozenrath answered. "We're what's next." He stretched out his right arm, letting it glow with a faint blue aura before flicking his wrist, sending a shockwave toward Piper.

As soon as she figured out Mozenrath was about to attack, Piper darted for the shelves of crystals, loading up her hands with the shining gems. She turned a beam of energy back against Mozenrath's attack, and the two powers collided in midair, causing a loud boom and shaking the entire building.

"Who's gotta go pick on someone their own size NOW?" Piper snapped, bracing herself for another attack.

"Lucky shot," Mozenrath remarked before drawing his arm back as though pulling the string on a bow like Ravess'; twenty arrows made purely of blue energy appeared in the air, and when Mozenrath let fly, they rocketed toward Piper. The girl countered by activating a fire-based crystal; twenty small whooshes of flame neutralized the arrows and left a dusting of ash over the floor. Knowing it was only a matter of time before Snipe, Ravess, the Huntsman, and Yzma got involved to try and take her down en masse, Piper quickly rearranged the crystals in her hands for a desperate move. She'd never tried the Binding on someone who was not an ally before; perhaps what she was about to do next was the reason Cyclonis had declared the technique to be evil. A beam of energy shot directly into Mozenrath's chest, and Piper called out, "LOCK UP TIGHT!"

A quip about how Piper was making no sense was on the tip of Mozenrath's tongue, but he was rendered unable to speak it; Piper's spell caused every muscle in his body to seize up, unmoving. The sorcerer hit the floor like a bowling pin.

"That does it!" Ravess huffed. "Snipe! Take care of her!"

"YEAH, I GET TO BASH SOMEONE!" Snipe rushed Piper, mace raised high.

Piper was ready for him. Strength training with a certain eccentric mentor had enabled her to punch Snipe completely out once, and she was ready to do it again. Waiting for an opening, she ducked around the mace, and with a fistful of crystals, she landed a fist against Snipe's jaw with enough force to send him crashing into a display wall, crystals raining down onto the disoriented warrior.

Ravess fired off several arrows at the same time that Yzma launched a dart; Piper clutched the crystals and willed them to lift her into the air, flipping her body high above her attackers and letting arrows and dart alike embed themselves in the ground. She then plummeted down, one extended leg first, aimed at Ravess; the archer found herself kicked back toward the same shelf as Snipe. Yzma rushed at Piper shoulder-first, aiming to knock the girl down with sheer force of momentum, but Piper was faster, up in the air and kicking downward again; Yzma came away with a new bruise.

As all this had been going on, the Huntsman had been surveying the crystals on display, eyeing up the signs that described the function of each. His gaze alit upon the one he wanted, and he quickly reached for one that was the right size to set in the huntstaff where a green stone had resided. The weapon had been constructed to receive magical crystals and draw upon their energy, and the crystals of Atmos seemed no different than those the Huntsman was used to. He spun the weapon, pointing it at Piper.

"Just put it down," Piper growled.

"Only one of us will leave this shop unscathed," the Huntsman replied. He knew that would stir her up, and she came rushing at him, firing a crystal beam. The Huntsman ducked and rolled beneath the surge, swiping the huntstaff out at Piper's legs. She leapt over it as the Huntsman stood, and she swung her fist, looking for an opening; every time she threw a punch or attempted a kick, the huntstaff blocked it. At close range, she let out another burst of energy from the crystals; the Huntsman twirled the staff quickly enough to deflect it completely. As the blade of the staff whirled, it caught Piper on the shoulder, its new crystal activating as it dug into her skin. Suddenly, Piper realized she'd lost control of her arm, which froze in place not unlike Mozenrath's body. "What – "

This momentary distraction was enough for the Huntsman to fire a blast that hit Piper square in the chest, and she froze and toppled. "I'm sure you're aware of the effects of a paralyzer crystal?" he taunted, waving the staff in front of her face as she lay helpless on the floor.

Piper's head was still free to move, and she regarded the staff with an expression of abject horror.

"Tell us," the Huntsman cajoled. "Where can we find the crystal that will reanimate the Cyclonian battleship?"

"NEVER," Piper growled.

"Yzma?" The Huntsman looked to his purple-clad associate, who, along with Snipe and Ravess, had regained footing. "Have you any sort of truth serum that will cause her to speak plainly?"

Yzma produced a pair of vials from hidden pockets. "You can turn her into a bat or a salamander. Your choice."

"Very well." The Huntsman forwent that idea and turned back to Piper. "I will slaughter everyone on this Terra, starting with the man who runs this shop. The killing stops once you speak."

"NO!" Piper cried.

"If you wish to argue," the Huntsman told her, swapping the crystal in his staff out for a blazing orange one, "do it now, before there is bloodshed."

"The only Terra that has anything like that is Terra Valhalla," Piper said quickly. Her eyes watered; she hadn't wanted to give such information up. She could have lied, but she knew she would be found out eventually, and what would she have been responsible for then?

The clerk watched, frightened, behind the counter, sympathetic to her plight, wishing he could offer some sort of comfort but knowing well that he was safer if he didn't speak.

The Huntsman produced a sphinx-hair net that had been embedded in one of the huntstaff's chambers. Its ends were tipped with weights meant to wrap the net closed around its target. Each weight bore a small rounded slot, no bigger than a penny; the Huntsman swept up several paralyzer crystals just that size and embedded one in each weight. "You're coming with us," he informed Piper, "and you're going to direct us all the way to Terra Valhalla. You're also going to inform us how to remove the curse you placed on Mozenrath. You do NOT get the mobility to remove it yourself." He knelt down and swept the net over Piper, binding the weights together; they charged the net with energy that kept Piper still.

"Without a crystal mage to hold the Binding together," Piper explained, "it wears off on its own. Eventually."

The Huntsman turned to look at the other paralyzed mage on the floor. "For your own sake, you had better be correct," he grunted as he knelt down and gently wrapped arms around Mozenrath's waist, hoisting the sorcerer up into his grip as he stood, wondering what was running through Mozenrath's mind at the moment.

The answer was an incomprehensible amount of rage, a slight bit of fear, and, to Mozenrath's own surprise, a little bit of comfort that it was the Huntsman who had decided to carry him. He knew at least he could trust the Huntsman not to be as volatile or unpredictable as the others.

"Snipe," the Huntsman commanded. "Take our Storm Hawk hostage and make sure she is not damaged. No bashing allowed."

"Gotcha, boss!" Snipe hoisted the net up by the weights and draped them over his shoulder, with Piper dangling adjacent to his back.

"How exactly are we supposed to make it to another Terra?" Yzma grumped. "The only one of us who could cast Corridors is out of commission!"

"Then we'll commandeer an airship the old-fashioned way," the Huntsman answered.

"And that way would be…?" Ravess prompted.

"Snipe will finally get to have his way with his mace."

...

"So what do we do now?" Nick asked as he looked around at the strange new town he, Phineas, and the other Power Rangers had stepped into.

"Well," Chip suggested, "I think the smart thing to do would be to head for the castle. That's where everything important always happens in fantasy stories." He pointed up to where the Radiant Garden castle loomed over the town.

"It's worth a shot," Vida agreed. "Let's go."

On the other side of town, a pair of alicorns trod down the street. They garnered some stares, but many were used to seeing all sorts of beings enter town now that the borders between the worlds were less rigid, and paid them no mind.

"You're sure this is the world we need to be on?" Cadance asked Luna. Never having seen humans before, she did a fair share of gawking herself.

"I do not know," Luna admitted. "But I do believe this world holds many people who could help us. It is said that when the worlds divided long ago, this was one of the first to return to its original state, thanks to the light within the hearts of its foals. Since then, it has been special among the many worlds."

"Where do we go from here?" Cadance inquired.

Luna gestured to the towering castle. "We must seek out those who are most knowledgeable about this world and hope that they are knowledgeable about the matters of other worlds as well."

Somewhere between the Rangers' arrival point and the alicorn's arrival point, Riku, Kairi, Nora, Jaune, and Ren were lined up in front of Mog's synthesis shop. The three denizens of Remnant had offered their broken weapons up somewhat apologetically.

"I have never seen anything like this, kupo!" Mog the moogle said joyously as he examined one of Ren's StormFlower guns.

"Do you think you can fix it?" Ren asked evenly.

"Of course, kupo!" Mog insisted. "I haven't seen a weapon yet that I couldn't fix! Though because your weapons are so unique, it may take some time. Maybe you should come back in a bit."

Riku nodded. "We can do that."

"What are we supposed to do until then?" Jaune wondered out loud.

Nora sniffed the air. "Is that…? IT IS! I smell ICE CREAM!"

"Does ice cream even have a smell?" Jaune asked.

"It does to Nora," Ren said with a shrug.

"We can get ice cream," Kairi affirmed. "Riku and I also have a few friends here I'd like to say hi to, if that's okay."

"I wouldn't mind checking in on them myself," Riku agreed.

"Any friend of yours is a friend of ours!" Nora chirped.

After the quintet had been supplied with a decent amount of sea salt ice cream, they made their way toward the castle. As they approached, the sole guard outside the door nodded at them, indicating they could and in fact should enter. Riku and Kairi nodded back to Aeleus.

Once inside, the group was met by Leon. "I was hoping you'd come here," he greeted.

"What's wrong?" Kairi asked in response.

"Something strange has come up," he replied. "You're going to want to hear about it from the source."

The rest of the Restoration Committee (minus Merlin) was found in the library along with eight strangers: five humans, a troblin, and two alicorns. All eyes turned to the library door once Leon led Riku and his entourage in.

"Riku!" Aerith greeted. "Kairi!"

"Hi, Aerith!" Kairi responded with a wave.

"Who're the new guys?" Yuffie asked.

"NORA VALKYRIE!" Nora cried heartily.

"I'm, uh, Jaune Arc," Jaune added.

"Lie Ren," Ren concluded.

"Uh…who are all of you?" Jaune asked in return.

"I'm Yuffie Kisaragi!" Yuffie answered, puffing out her chest a little. "And this is the Radiant Garden Restoration Committee! …Plus a few guests."

"That's what we needed to talk to you about," Leon clarified. Turning toward the mysterious strangers, he announced, "These are two of the Keybearers. They just might be able to help with your problems."

"Wow," Nora commented. "Nice job volunteering for them."

"It's all right," Riku affirmed. "As Keybearers, helping others comes with the territory."

"That sounds just like something Sora would say," Kairi teased.

"Well, he's right," Riku admitted. "So what's going on?"

Luna and Nick exchanged glances, trying to decide who should go first. Nick took the initiative and stepped forward: "My name's Nick Russell, and I'm the leader of the Power Rangers. A bunch of powerful sorcerers came to our world and destroyed everything, and they took two of our friends prisoner. A magic portal led us here, and we think this is where our missing friends are."

"They described the sorcerers in question to us," Ienzo added, "and the leader of the band sounded quite familiar."

"Maleficent," Leon clarified. "We think she was responsible for the destruction of their world and taking hostages from them. But that's not the only thing."

Now it was Luna's turn to step forward. "I am Princess Luna of Canterlot in Equestria," she introduced, "and I come traveling with my niece, Princess Cadance of the Crystal Empire in Equestria. Recently, some very powerful artifacts were taken from our world, and without them, we are doomed. We know that the Elements of Harmony, which protect us from chaos, were taken from us by a unicorn called Mozenrath, but we know not who is responsible for the theft of our Crystal Heart, which feeds the Crystal Empire with love and prevents the cold northern winds from invading its borders. Perhaps it is the same person. Perhaps it is this Maleficent you speak of. Perhaps they all work for this mysterious Maleficent."

"When something stinks, it's usually Maleficent," Yuffie pointed out.

"We knew she was planning something," Lea spoke up from the corner. "We sent in our best recon guy to try and figure out what without getting too close." He cast his gaze downward, scratching the back of his head. "But…we haven't seen him since. Who woulda thought I'd've killed the guy twice?"

"He may still be alive in Maleficent's clutches," Ienzo tried to reassure him. "Even is made of strong stuff."

"We obviously couldn't risk an invasion of Maleficent's castle with the forces we have," Leon reminded Riku. "We've tentatively decided to live and let live. But now she's changed the game. She has two hostages from Briarwood, probably one from our own base, and possibly one of the crystals that went missing from Equestria."

"We'll just have to get them back," Kairi said with resolve. She turned to her four cohorts; "You in?"

"I'm in," Riku said with a nod.

"Where you go," Jaune told Kairi, "I go."

"I'm with you all the way!" Nora crowed.

"As am I," Ren confirmed.

"Wait," Madison interrupted. "Necrolai and Leelee are our friends. We can't just let you invade an enemy castle alone. We're all coming too."

"I'm not leavin' Leelee," Phineas insisted. "Not until I know she's all right!"

"And I can't leave the Crystal Heart, if Maleficent's fortress is indeed where it is," Cadance added.

"Cadance and I shall join your fight," Luna affirmed.

"Anyone else?" Riku asked, looking around the library.

"The rest of us should stay here in case the castle needs to be defended," Leon decided. "We can't afford to spread ourselves too thin."

"Thirteen of you should be able to handle a little old break-in anyway!" Yuffie added.

"That's exactly what I want to aim for," Riku agreed. "A break-in. We'll fight if we have to, but if we can sneak in and get back everything we've lost without Maleficent noticing us, then we can avoid a lot of risk."

Leon nodded. "Good luck."

"We don't need luck!" Nora boasted. "We've got SKILLS!" She pumped both fists.

"I like her!" Yuffie chirped.

"Let's go," Riku announced. "We need to see if Nora, Jaune, and Ren's weapons are ready. Then we shouldn't waste any more time."

As he turned to leave, he was followed not only by Kairi, Jaune, Ren, and Nora, but by Luna, Cadance, Nick, Vida, Chip, Madison, Xander, and Phineas.

As Nick fell into step alongside Riku, Riku commanded, "Tell me more about where you come from."

Meanwhile, Luna and Kairi walked side-by-side, and Kairi asked, "What's Equestria like?"

...

Vexen made productive use of his time by rummaging about in the lower levels of the downed battleship. During his investigations, he came across a crate filled with sparkling multicolored crystals, which he knew would be incredibly useful. Hoisting up the crate, he took it up to show his associates, only to find Wuya and Roman laying on the floor of the main room while Snatcher leaned against the wall with a glazed look in his eyes.

"And WHAT exactly is going on here?" Vexen barked.

"Well, I got bored, so I'm lying on the floor and contemplating things that are less boring," Wuya explained. "Roman is also bored, so he's also on the floor. And Snatcher is bored, but he's apparently too dignified for the floor, so he's leaning against the wall. And now you're up to speed."

"Well, get up off the floor and the wall," Vexen commanded. "I may have found something that could get this ship in partial working order."

That got Roman to hustle to his feet and Snatcher to take a few steps closer.

"Not the engine, mind you," Vexen clarified, "but several of the internal mechanisms, such as the turret guns."

Now Wuya was off the floor and surveying the crystals.

"I thought you said just using any old crystal would blow us all up," Roman pointed out.

"As these were kept onboard," Vexen explained, "I find it highly unlikely that they wouldn't be suited to the ship itself. They weren't contained securely enough to be marked as hazards. The variety of colors suggests that each one contains a distinct magical effect, likely elemental. I suggest we use them to reactivate the onboard weapons systems in case we should have to defend the base."

"Against WHAT?" Roman asked. "There's no one else out here for miles! And everybody else thinks the ship is junk, so nobody's coming for it!"

"Somebody invades in three…two…" Wuya muttered.

They all paused.

"Never mind," Wuya relented when no one arrived.

"This is still a case where it is better to be safe than sorry," Vexen insisted.

Roman was already digging around in the crate. "You had me at 'reactivate the onboard weapons systems.'"

Within a half hour, the crystals had been hooked up to various of the systems inside the battleship, and the quartet reunited in the usual room. "Now," Roman mumbled as he looked over the dashboard, "let's try this again."

He picked out a particular button and pressed it deliberately. A loud and distinct boom sounded from outside the ship. "NICE!" Roman crowed, looking for another button. His next selection caused an even louder boom. "Aw, BEST DAY EVER!"

Vexen fired a judgmental glance in Snatcher's direction. Snatcher returned it with even more force.

As Roman selected another button, a cannon inside the room turned on the remaining trio. Vexen and Snatcher danced back several paces while Wuya just put up a hand; a beam of fire was held off by her deflection shield. "All right, now THAT'S just stupid," she sighed. "Who puts a cannon INSIDE the base?"

A Corridor of Darkness opened up in the middle of the room at that very moment. "I think your invasion countdown was a bit off," Snatcher told Wuya.

Cinder Fall strode proudly through the Corridor, surveying the room. She was surrounded head to toe in an aura of bright orange flame "Well, well," she remarked. "One of us should have guessed that this base would already be in the hands of second-rate idle dreamers."

Wuya meant to reply, but Roman stepped in front of her, holding out a hand; "I got this." He faced Cinder directly. "And WE should have guessed the walking cliché herself would come and crash the party! Did you SERIOUSLY think you could walk into this place alone and not expect somebody to be here?"

"That's what you expected," Wuya hissed.

"Not now," Roman snapped back. "Ooh, four on one. That's bad odds, even for you."

"Four on two," Cinder corrected as the flames that surrounded her slid fluidly off her body, separating into another entity, forging into a tall and thin shape that solidified into a humanoid form.

"And I believe the odds are in OUR favor," Jafar announced as soon as he materialized. "Such a tragedy. The four of you would have made acceptable foot soldiers for Maleficent had you chosen to ally yourself with REAL power. But instead, you went in a considerably pathetic direction by aligning yourself with that petulant boy."

"And therein lies the catch," Snatcher pointed out. "With you? Foot soldiers. With him? Warriors."

"Why don't we see just how far your skill as 'warriors' can take you?" Cinder taunted.

Roman was on the same page, bracing his Cudgel as he made a run at Cinder. A sphere of flame, Cinder's own this time, erupted into existence around the bearer of the Fall Maiden powers. Wuya, knowing exactly what was about to happen, surged forward, her feet leaving the ground in an act of levitation. She seized Roman's jacket with one hand and unceremoniously threw him back over her shoulder as an aura of emerald-green flames flared up around her body. Cinder let loose a thick beam of solid fire that would have reduced Roman to a charred skeleton in seconds. And that was exactly what she was expecting to happen. Instead, that beam was met with one of equal force but bright green as Wuya pushed back against Cinder's magic. Due to Cinder having a momentary lapse in focus when her targets swapped out in front of her eyes, green overpowered orange and Wuya's magic sent her flying back into the far wall, where she hit hard and left an indent.

"You're not used to playing with someone on your level, are you?" Wuya taunted as she levitated down in front of Cinder. "I know how THAT feels."

With an angry cry, Cinder launched into the air, propelled by a jet of flame; she slammed into Wuya with her full weight, driving the Heylin witch at the opposite wall. Wuya transferred the weight expertly, flipping the pair over; Wuya's feet touched ground and she let Cinder fly to make a matching mark in the wall across from her first indent.

Jafar, on the other hand, was not so easily matched. He began by calling forth a bolt of red lightning from the mouth of his cobra-shaped staff. Vexen's shield immediately caught and protected from the electrical energy. Vexen then summoned a line of icy stalagmites to pierce upward from the ground, heading in Jafar's direction; all of them suddenly flared into flame and melted. It was a good thing he was missing his heart, Vexen realized, else the sheer amount of fire being used for offensive attacks in the room would be giving him a panic attack. "We needn't fear you," he told Jafar. "Genies can't kill, after all."

"Are you expecting me to be distracted while I tell you 'You'd be surprised what you can live through'?" Jafar laughed, knowing full well that Snatcher was behind him, launching the hammer of his weapon. Jafar let the chain wrap around his waist before becoming intangible as a puff of red smoke, floating out of the chain's grasp and rematerializing some feet away. "I think you'll find I'm much SHARPER than that!"

As Jafar emphasized the pun, a host of swords appeared from nowhere, pressing their edges up against Snatcher's skin at various points: shoulder, hip, ankle, wrist. None of the cuts would have been fatal, but all would be painful and cost him a piece of himself.

Vexen tried to make a step forward but found himself surrounded by a ring of flame. He tried in vain to summon icicles to contain the fire, but everything he attempted melted as soon as it took form. He focused on a different tactic: lowering the temperature of everything around him.

As Jafar let out a maniacal laugh of victory, he was suddenly caught off guard by the full force of an energy cannon blasting into him. He was sent bowling head over heels, and with his focus broken, the swords around Snatcher spilled to the ground and the flames surrounding Vexen died down just enough that Vexen could quell them.

"I'm sorry," Roman mocked as he stood at the control panel of the weapons systems, "what was that? Was that the sound of somebody asking me why there would be a cannon INSIDE the base?"

"Not listening!" Wuya replied as she braced for Cinder's next attack. "Can't hear you!"

Cinder's jet-black swords leapt into her hands, and she rushed Wuya with clenched teeth. A pair of long steel blades materialized in Wuya's own hands, and as fast as the Fall Maiden was, the Heylin Witch was able to parry every strike, silver striking black at every opportunity. And while Cinder was focused on her swords, Wuya took the opportunity to parry, whirl, and connect her foot to Cinder's face.

Jafar, angered, pointed his cobra staff at Roman. The redhead suddenly found himself swept up into a gigantic flask, as tall as the room, that stoppered itself with a proportionate cork. In the blink of an eye, the flask filled from the bottom up with water.

"That's impossible!" Vexen cried. "You shouldn't be able to drown him!"

"Oh, he WON'T be drowning," Jafar laughed. "He'll just suffer the effects of it, unable to die! Which is MUCH more delicious!"

As Cinder continued her struggle against Wuya, she caught wind of this, and she had to admit she quite liked the way Jafar thought. She swapped out her sword for a bow and arrow, lifting into the air and firing a trinity of arrows at Wuya. Wuya plucked two arrows out of the air and kicked the third aside; she then fitted the arrows to a bow that she created out of nothing, firing them back at Cinder, as well as five more arrows of her own creation. Cinder dodged every single one.

From within the flask, Roman turned the Cudgel at the glass with difficulty, firing a single shot. The glass fractured, but didn't shatter. That was all Vexen needed, however, to fill the cracks with ice and make the strained part of the glass explode, sending Roman spilling out across the floor in a wave of water.

Snatcher, for his part, was keeping Jafar busy with the swords that had threatened to cut him to ribbons moments before. He'd never learned how to properly wield one, so he made do with picking them up and launching them across the room at Jafar. The genie phased through each one, but it still kept him from doing anything else for a while. By the time Vexen had broken Roman free, Snatcher was out of swords, and Jafar was ready for another attack. He stretched out a hand at Snatcher, and that hand morphed into a venomous cobra, rearing back to strike.

Roman fired the grappling hook of the Cudgel, catching the snake around the neck before it could get too close to Snatcher. Snatcher then bashed the snake hard on the head with his mallet; as Jafar withdrew the limb, it became an ordinary hand once more. Vexen sent a sharp icicle flying at Jafar, who dematerialized just in time to send the icicle zooming on a direct course for Snatcher; Roman blasted it into water droplets just in time.

Wuya stretched out her hands, summoning a host of minions to build themselves up from the stone of the floor. An entire segment of the floor ripped itself up, revealing a hangar for a host of skimmers below. As the stone built itself into a dozen golems, Cinder blasted off for the ceiling. "I don't suppose your little friends can fly," she said with a smirk.

"If she comes down," Wuya ordered the golems, "tear her apart." She then shot up into the air to face Cinder down. A sphere of orange surrounded Cinder, and Wuya sported a similar coating of green.

"Let's see which one of us is stronger," Cinder challenged. "One on one."

"Spoiler alert," Wuya replied. "You aren't going to like the ending of this one."

They charged at each other, orange and green colliding over and over.

Three wrecking balls swung down from the ceiling, knocking Vexen, Snatcher, and Roman off balance. A multitude of crushing pillars rocketed down from above, and one of them would have shattered Snatcher's legs if he hadn't had the good sense to roll and the luck to be missed by every other pillar slamming toward the ground until he reached the place where Wuya had ripped up the floor. As he dropped into the hangar, Roman and Vexen landed behind them; they'd all had the same idea.

"Before he follows us," Snatcher urged, "what can we use against him? Anything, ANYTHING!"

"All I know is that he's phenomically cosmic, he's probably still only just TOYING with us at this point, and that he can transform into a massive cobra at will!" Vexen babbled.

"I've an idea," Snatcher realized.

As soon as he finished explaining, Jafar appeared behind them. "I do hope you weren't talking about me behind my back," the genie said with a grin. "That would be quite rude."

"Please do have mercy!" Snatcher dropped to his knees. "We're well aware it would be all too simple for you to swallow us all whole and leave us to digest for eternity, but we can be of use to you! We'll turn our backs on Mozenrath! We'll become the most loyal servants you could have asked for!"

"I think I prefer the idea of swallowing you whole and leaving you to digest for eternity," Jafar decided. "It's not that our little game of cat-and-mouse hasn't been fun, but Maleficent will be wanting you out of the way once and for all."

The transformation was sudden; one moment, he stood before them in the guise of a mortal man, and the next, he was an incredibly massive black-and-orange-striped cobra that filled the hangar and the room above.

"TORCHWICK, NOW!" Snatcher pointed to the skimmers. Roman hopped aboard one and sped upward, out of the hangar.

"WHY, YOU LITTLE – " Jafar gave chase, speeding after the skimmer, deftly avoiding the still-clashing Wuya and Cinder. Roman led him out the doors of the base and up around the great tower of the battleship, letting Jafar wind his body around and around the aircraft. There were a few close scrapes at which point he almost didn't fly fast enough to avoid being caught up in the snake's snapping jaws, but at last, Roman reached his destination, zooming through smaller doors right back into the room from which he'd originated, where the battle was still taking place. As Jafar crashed through the walls to follow, Roman deftly swooped over the control panel and mashed every single button.

The sound from outside was an absolute cacophony. Cannons of all sorts fired, each one hitting Jafar's body directly, as the snake was tangled up all over the tower. Jafar let out an agonized howl as he shrank back to humanoid shape.

This cry was enough to distract Cinder. Her focus shifted to Jafar for a split second, and Wuya was able to get close enough to her to place both hands on her back and shove her forcefully downward, into the fists of the waiting golems.

Jafar, heavily damaged, cast the Corridor as soon as he heard Cinder's screams. He raised his staff to blast through the golems' rocky forms, hobbling forward as best he could once they shattered. Cinder, out of their grip, collapsed to the ground, covered in bruises and slices. Jafar quickly scooped her up into his grasp before heading through the portal and hurriedly closing it. Maleficent wouldn't be happy, but their opponents had gotten too much of an upper hand, and remaining may just have cost them both their lives.

Wuya landed gracefully on the ground, commanding her golems to disband and reform the floor as though it had never been torn up. Snatcher and Vexen had by that time found a route back upstairs, and they joined Wuya and Roman, out of breath. Roman leaned against the nearest wall for support. Wuya, by contrast, hadn't even broken a sweat.

"I'm sorry," she told Roman, "what was that? Was that you mocking me about cannons while I was busy saving your life from your old boss?"

"Shut up," Roman panted.

...

In the lush green Enchancian gardens, the young Princess Amber had set up her easel and paints and was attempting to capture a visual representation of the multicolored flowers before her. It would have been a lot easier were her stepbrother James and her stepsister Sofia not playing soccer with the royal dog, Rex, in the same area of the garden.

As the soccer ball went flying past Amber's head, she deftly caught it. "JAMES!" she scolded. "SOFIA! You ALMOST knocked over all my paints! Can you imagine what would have happened to my gown if you did?"

"I dunno," James suggested. "That might've made it look cooler."

"James," Sofia said sternly. She then apologized to Amber; "Sorry we interrupted your painting. We'll go to the far side of the garden to play."

"THANK you," Amber sighed.

Sofia and James laughed as they dashed off to the next area of the garden, ball in hand, Rex bounding along and barking.

A few minutes later, King Roland entered the garden to see Amber hard at work. "That is a lovely painting, Amber!" he complimented.

"Thank you, Daddy!" Amber replied with a curtsy.

"Have you seen James and Sofia?" Roland asked. "I thought I'd join their game. You're welcome to as well, of course."

"Hm…I think I'm fine staying here and working on my painting," Amber told her father. "You go on ahead and play. They're at the far end of the garden."

James guarded the ball as he danced back and forth in front of Sofia's makeshift goal. "He shoots…" he announced, giving the ball a hard kick. "HE SCO – "

Sofia leapt after the ball, blocking it in the nick of time before righting herself and stepping on it.

"Awww, man!" James sighed.

"Now SHE shoots!" Sofia giggled as her foot connected hard with the soccer ball. It flew past James and into the area he'd designated as his goal. "That's Sofia two, James one!"

The game was interrupted by the appearance of a Corridor of Darkness that deposited Pete and Morgana between the two children. The young prince and princess immediately shied away.

"Morgana!" Sofia cried in fear.

"Hey, YOU!" Pete turned to Sofia, pointing an accusing finger. "You're the one with that magical amulet!"

Sofia instinctively reached up with both hands to clasp the Amulet of Avalor that dangled from her neck.

"Give it here!" Pete demanded.

"No!" Sofia spat.

"Then we'll just have to take you along with it!" Morgana cackled.

Roland broke into a run as soon as he heard his stepdaughter's scream. He arrived in the garden just in time to see Sofia squirming against Pete's bulky arms as he carried her into the Corridor with Morgana in tow. Then the portal closed, and Sofia was gone.


	24. For Want of Crystals

A/N: This fic is AU before Elena of Avalor begins. I have yet to figure out how that one works in this mythos.

24\. For Want of Crystals

Stork neatly touched the Gummi ship down on a landing strip in the crowded metropolis that was Terra Valhalla. As he, Sora, Ruby, and Papyrus disembarked, Ruby told him, "You know, you're a much better driver than Sora."

"USUALLY WE HAVE A LOT MORE NEAR-MISSES," Papyrus added.

"Heyyyyyyy," Sora groaned.

"NOT…THAT THAT'S A BAD THING!" Papyrus said hastily. "IT MAKES THE TRIP MORE EXCITING!"

"But really," Sora said, clapping Stork lightly on the back, "nice job!"

"Thanks," Stork said somewhat hoarsely. Being able to pilot the ship had calmed his nerves somewhat, but he still faced a deep void within himself due to the loss of his teammates. And it felt like that void would never truly fill.

"So where to?" Sora asked.

"Know where we can get your ship fixed?" Ruby added.

"This way," Stork beckoned, leading the crew down a wide street.

As his three cohorts walked behind him, transfixed by the various spires and peaks of the enormous Terra, Stork realized he couldn't remember the last time he'd walked in the lead of a group. It really wasn't where he preferred to be.

He located the airship maintenance garage in short order, leading Sora, Ruby, and Papyrus into a lofty area where ships of various make were already being tinkered with. A blond man dressed in a long and ornate jacket was busy discussing matters with one of the engineers; as soon as Stork became visible in his peripheral vision, he immediately told the engineer "I'll be right back" and turned to greet the entering entourage. "Stork!" the young man cried happily, extending his arms for an embrace of greeting.

"I, uhm…hi, Capercaillie," Stork replied tentatively.

"Oh, right!" The youth, Capercaillie, dropped his arms to his sides. "You don't go in much for hugs, do you? It's so good to see you! And what's this? A new team?" He laughed. "Don't tell me you got tired of the Storm Hawks and traded them in!"

A glance at the four concerned faces before him told Capercaillie his joke wasn't funny. "Did…something happen?" he asked in concern.

"The others are…well…uhm…" Stork had trouble finding the words.

"There was an attack," Sora explained. "The Storm Hawks' old ship blew up, and they're…gone."

"POSSIBLY," Papyrus interjected. "AFTER ALL, STORK SURVIVED! SO WHO'S TO SAY THEY DIDN'T ALL SURVIVE?"

Capercaillie flinched momentarily once he got a good look at Papyrus. "And what Terra are you from?" he asked. "I…haven't seen the likes of you around before. In fact, what Terras do you ALL come from?"

"It's a really long story," Ruby answered.

Capercaillie wondered why exactly none of the mysterious trio wanted to reveal their points of origin, but he figured they must have good reasons. "Well, welcome to Terra Valhalla!" he said pleasantly, spreading his arms to indicate the entirety of the garage and by extension the entirety of the kingdom. "I am Prince Capercaillie."

"A prince!" Sora realized. He quickly bowed in respect; Ruby and Papyrus followed his example.

"You don't have to do that!" Capercaillie laughed. "Please, friends, get up."

"He makes friends almost as fast as you two do," Ruby whispered so Sora and Papyrus could both hear.

Capercaillie had heard as well. "Any friend of the Storm Hawks is a friend of mine!" His expression turned somber. "But I truly am sorry for your loss. I can't believe it. Atmos without the Storm Hawks…where will we be?"

Silence hung heavy.

Breaking it at last, Capercaillie offered, "When you're finished with your business here, come up to the castle. I will speak with my father about this matter, and we will…" He paused and swallowed hard. "We will hold a memorial for them. For their bravery and their kindness."

"That'd be good," Stork replied, almost choking on the words.

"I will see you then?" Capercaillie confirmed.

"We'll see you then," Sora replied enthusiastically.

"You're lucky," Capercaillie told Stork as an afterthought. "Lucky to have found another team so soon."

"Yeah…guess I am," Stork agreed.

The prince made his way somberly toward the exit, and Stork looked back over his three companions, who were regarding him with concern. "You heard that right," he sighed.

"We're here for you," Ruby said with a nod.

"I know," Stork replied with a small smile.

Ruby found her thoughts wandering to the last person she knew who'd lost hope: a once-fiery blonde warrior who now refused to leave her bed, watching the leaves and then the snow fall from her window. Ruby had tried to be there for her, but this once proud warrior had turned her away. She knew what Sora and Papyrus would think: that there was still hope. In the meantime, if Ruby couldn't offer any comfort to Yang Xiao Long, she was glad to do it for Stork.

"WHAT ARE WE ALL STANDING AROUND FOR?" Papyrus blurted, interrupting Ruby's reverie. "WE HAVE A SHIP TO FIX!"

Stork nodded. He extended a hand, walking toward an engineer, clearing his throat, but before he could get the engineer's attention, she had walked away.

"Let me handle this," Sora said, striding out in front of Stork. "Excuse me?"

The engineer turned to face Sora. "How can I help you?"

"We kinda need a ship fixed. Or…well…built. Think you can help us out?"

"Sure! Though if you're building something from scratch, it'll take a while. What are you looking at?"  
Sora looked to Stork, who now had the confidence to speak: "I presume you remember the Condor? We need that."

Outside, Capercaillie had begun to make his way toward the towering fortress in the center of the kingdom when he was waylaid. The medical ship from Terra Lumina had landed, and as soon as Capercaillie had seen the paramedics disembark, he had rushed to the scene to see who needed help and of what variety.

"What's happening?" he asked. "Can I help?"

One of the paramedics gestured to the person who had required the rush transport. "We found him like this just outside of town on Terra Lumina. We didn't have the facilities we needed to treat him there – "

It took Capercaillie a moment to look through the burns and bruises, but when he recognized the patient, he went pale. "Come with me," he urged. "We'll get him help right away!"

He paused a moment to hover over the wounded: "It's all right. We're going to help you. You'll be fine. And you need to know you're not the only one who made it. Stork is here on this Terra."

Having said that, he turned sharply and led the paramedics and their charge at a brisk pace to the nearest hospital.

...

King Petrel of Terra Lumina was already anxious. First, he'd assisted in the recovery of a badly injured ally, sending him to Terra Valhalla for medical assistance; what it meant that the boy was all alone and that horribly burned and broken did not bode well. Then he'd heard about the incident at the crystal shop. Apparently, he was lucky that a madman bearing a crystal-powered staff had not begun a mass slaughter of everyone on the Terra. And another ally had been lost to the clutches of a group of unknown villains. He didn't see how the day could get any worse.

But it was about to.

The last person he wanted to see came striding through the doors of his hall, flanked by a newcomer clothed in a black robe and a hood that resembled horns. Petrel's heart nearly stopped. "M-Master Cyclonis!"

"Hello, King Petrel," Cyclonis replied slyly. "And how are you today?"

"You should know," Petrel replied. "Whatever happened to the Storm Hawks was YOUR fault! And I know it was your men that robbed our crystal shop! One of them even invoked the name of Cyclonia!"

"I'll take responsibility for the Storm Hawks," Cyclonis replied, "but I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about on the second count."

"Your archer," Petrel described, "a strongman with a mace, a mage with a strange gauntlet, an old woman, and a large man bearing a staff."

Two descriptions stood out to Cyclonis. "Ravess and Snipe," she hissed. "What are THEY doing here, and why are THEY invoking the name of Cyclonia? They should be dead by now!"

"Focus on the task at hand," Maleficent said brusquely. "We can take care of those rogues later." Besides, she thought, if there was a mage with a gauntlet involved, she knew exactly who she was dealing with, and it was absolutely no surprise that that particular annoyance had picked up Cyclonis' leftover nuisances.

"The task at hand," Cyclonis repeated, her voice suddenly dripping with honey. "King Petrel. Do you know anything about the Book of Prophecies?"

"I've never heard of that before in my life," Petrel answered.

"You'd better not be lying," Cyclonis told him. "If the book isn't here, then someone, somewhere, is lying. Either you, one of the leaders of the Terras we've yet to visit, or the person who told us the book would be here. Though at least we can be sure that the leaders of the Terras we've already visited haven't been lying. When they said they didn't know what the Book of Prophecies was, we tore up every scrap of their kingdoms and searched for the book high and low. So far, we haven't found it. It's almost a pity that we've already had to waste so much time destroying the kingdoms of honest people. So, now that you know what's on the line, I'm going to give you a second chance. Tell us where the Book of Prophecies is, or we'll be forced to search all of Terra Lumina for it, and I can guarantee you won't survive the process."

"My kingdom has already been threatened once today," Petrel informed Cyclonis.

"And yet it's still in one piece," Cyclonis observed. "We aren't as merciful as whoever the last threat was. Though, if it was Ravess and Snipe, I'm not surprised."

Petrel knew whatever location he named was doomed, so he aimed for one unpopulated: "The last I heard of the book, it had been lost in the Wastelands."

"Interesting," Cyclonis mulled over. "Is that your…final answer?"  
"Yes. That is where I know the book to be."

"I would love to take your word for it," Cyclonis told Petrel. "However, we do still need to be sure you're not lying."

"Please, Master Cyclonis – "

Cyclonis wasn't listening. She had turned to Maleficent. "The luminous crystals make it impossible for the Nightcrawlers to land here," she informed the faery.

"Then we shall have to see to their extinguishing," Maleficent replied. She raised her staff high, chanting a spell: "Bane of Nightcrawlers, to me make your flight. Come to me, o crystals' light!"

In one great flash, the light of every single glowing crystal embedded in Terra Lumina shot forth from its home and into Petrel's hall, absorbed at last into the globe atop Maleficent's staff, the gem called the Dragon's Eye. No longer was the kingdom guarded by light.

"Now let's see if you were really telling the truth," Cyclonis said with a smirk.

And from all around, the Nightcrawlers descended.

...

Full-body paralysis gave Mozenrath a lot of time to think.

He had been given a good view. After the Huntsman, Yzma, Snipe, and Ravess had commandeered an airship, the Huntsman had taken the wheel and insisted Mozenrath sit right up front where he could see out the window. Piper was stowed in the cargo hold, and in the back of the cockpit, Mozenrath could hear Yzma asking Ravess and Snipe their thoughts on karaoke and Ravess responding that she was an okay singer but a virtuoso violinist. Not a very engaging conversation, when all was said and done. So the sorcerer shut them out and focused on the view ahead as well as his internal landscape.

How had he gotten here? He had once been a lone wolf. The closest thing he had to companionship was the stint with Amin Damoola, unless you wanted to count Aladdin and Jasmine's constant invasions as company. The more he went over it in his head, the more he realized he couldn't pin down exactly how he'd tripped and stumbled into friendship.

But it seemed to be working out for the best. After all, they had a fair amount of the ingredients for the conquest spell, hadn't they? Mozenrath reflected on the fact that he had very nearly ended up trying to follow Maleficent's path to glory. Perhaps that had been a stupid decision, but if he hadn't tried to do that, he wouldn't be where he was now.

Which was, admittedly, frozen in place in an airship, but that was sure to be a temporary affliction.

He'd had his sights set on conquest for longer than he could remember. When he was a child, he knew he would one day rule nations. It was almost instinctive. It was only recently that he had been dissatisfied with repeatedly trying and failing to seat himself on one of the thrones of the Seven Deserts and instead gunning for the kingdoms of other worlds. The existence of these worlds hadn't exactly been a secret to him. Ancient tomes spoke of parallel dimensions, and he had first proven their existence when he had summoned the Thirdac from another plane. (The incident had taught him to always make sure putting a magic-resistant collar on any beast he summoned was the FIRST step of the sequence.) Curiosity had brought him on his many travels, and he had seen so much. He wanted it all to be his. He deserved it, after all. He deserved something, anyway. After the time spent with Destane, he sure deserved something.

He had wanted to be large and in charge even before Destane. He had sought out the sorcerer as a mentor, as a stepping stone to triumph. And perhaps that was where Mozenrath had learned the art of solitude. Destane was an expert at making him feel alone and ignored. Yes, Destane had been like a father to him: like his ungrateful, neglectful father whom the very memory of made Mozenrath positively enraged. Thinking about Destane was slightly less rage-inducing, though it came with its own set of unpleasant feelings and even a slight churning of the stomach. Young Mozenrath had known hurt, but Destane had taught him the true meaning of pain, at least in the physical sense. The older sorcerer had been all too willing to take on an apprentice when Mozenrath showed up at his doorstep, but had a very low tolerance for failure. Perhaps, when Mozenrath really reflected on it, his father wasn't so bad by comparison. Being thrown about by Destane hadn't made Mozenrath power-hungry, nor had it made him what most would term "evil." But it had made him alone. And when he had finally put Destane away somewhere that the old man finally had to answer to Mozenrath and endure abuse from the one he'd abused, Mozenrath found that he preferred "alone."

And now, things were so different.

"I will only wait until sundown," the Huntsman said softly enough that only Mozenrath could hear. "If your condition hasn't resolved itself by then, I will be taking more drastic measures to put it right."

The Huntsman. What was his story? Mozenrath still didn't know. He could guess at bits and pieces. The clan indoctrinated people from birth based on if they were marked with the image of the red dragon. They were trained to kill magical creatures and encouraged – no, commanded – to put that training to use. But was that really all that fueled the Huntsman's drive to kill? Was he simply carrying out orders, or was there more beneath the surface? After all, at a certain point, he had been the one giving the orders, and he hadn't changed them. And now he'd gone from giving orders to taking them from Mozenrath like some sort of – well, Mozenrath had been about to place the comparison of "lapdog," but that seemed a bit too demeaning for the man.

"At the very least," the Huntsman said, "you can take comfort in knowing that we are that much closer to the crystal we need."

Though he wouldn't say it out loud even if he could, Mozenrath greatly appreciated that the Huntsman spoke to his frozen form every now and again. It kept him from getting too bored, too wrapped up in unpleasant memories, or –

No. He wasn't afraid of being paralyzed permanently. That wouldn't even be reasonable. Or so he told himself. But he'd gotten out of this sort of situation before. Such as the incident with Dagger Rock. Then again, that time, Mirage had been around and wanting to put him back in the game on a lark.

"I believe that is our target," the Huntsman announced, and indeed, an expansive Terra with many peaks and valleys was coming into view. "Terra Valhalla. I shall confirm it with our prisoner once we land."

He steadily brought the ship in to land near the central spire, and after he got up from his own seat, he tucked Mozenrath's waist under one arm and used the other to steady his grip before carrying his leader out of the ship.

Had it been anyone else, Mozenrath might have found it demeaning. But he was actually growing rather fond of the feel of the Huntsman's arms in particular. He wasn't sure what word to place upon it. Though what he didn't know he was looking for was the term "safe."

...

The Condor specifications had been dropped off with the engineers of the Terra Valhalla garage, and Stork, Sora, Ruby, and Papyrus set a course for the fortress at the Terra's heart. They were almost immediately met by Capercaillie running toward them at top speed. "STORK!" he cried. "I was hoping I would catch you in time!"

"What's going on?" Stork asked, thrown into a sudden panic. "Nightcrawlers? Giant rampaging beasts?" His head whipped this way and that before he grabbed Capercaillie by the shirt front and yanked him close: "IS THE KING INFECTED WITH MINDWORMS?"

"No," Capercaillie answered. "Something better. I…think."

"You…think?" Stork let go of Capercaillie's clothing.

"You're not the only Storm Hawk that survived," Capercaillie informed Stork.

It was as though a tidal wave had just washed over the paranoid pilot. Sora and Ruby were stunned into silence as well. Only Papyrus had a verbal reaction: "I KNEW IT!"

"But he isn't in good condition," Capercaillie said hurriedly. "He's alive and stable, but…you should see for yourself."

"Who is it?" Stork asked hoarsely.

And Capercaillie's answer nearly floored him.

...

The prince led the four companions to the hospital where Stork's teammate was being held, bringing them to a closed door. "I don't know if he's awake," Capercaillie whispered. "You should go in quietly."

"We'll let you go alone," Sora told Stork. "This is between the two of you."

"That'd be…well…thanks," Stork replied, looking nervously at the door. Swallowing his trepidation, he gently turned the handle, slipped into the room, and softly closed the door behind him.

"We should definitely go somewhere else for a while," Ruby proposed.

"AFTER ALL, STORK AND HIS FRIEND HAVE CATCHING UP TO DO, AND IT WOULD BE RUDE TO EAVESDROP," Papyrus added.

"Sounds like a plan!" Sora gave a thumbs-up.

And in synchrony, all three of them pressed their ears to the crack of the door to listen in on Stork's rendez-vous.

When Stork entered the room, the patient in the bed rolled his head in the direction of the door to see who had come in. "…Stork?" he croaked in disbelief. He was bandaged from head to toe, and Stork could see the edges of nasty burns playing around his face. His hair had been completely incinerated away. Still, Stork would have recognized him in a second, even if Capercaillie hadn't given him a name.

"Finn," Stork replied, his voice breaking; he tried his best to will away the tears that were gathering. "You're okay…"

"…Are you crying over me?" Finn teased, cracking a smile.

"No, I'm not!" Stork wiped furiously at his eyes with his sleeve.

"It's okay," Finn reassured him. "I didn't think anybody else got out of that alive." Now his voice was cracking. "Looks like it's just you and me. But not Junko or Aerrow or Piper or Radaar – "

"Well…" Stork interrupted. "If…the two of us made it out, then maybe…"

That stopped Finn short. "Wait. Are you actually being positive? Great. You're probably just a big hallucination."

"I am NOT a hallucination, thank you very much!" Stork snapped. "I've just been spending way, WAY too much time around somebody who kept INSISTING that things weren't as bad as I thought they were. And…you're okay, so it looks like he was right."

"Who are you talking about?"

"Well…after the…the big kaboom…I found another squadron. Or something like a squadron. They're way too idealistic to ever survive, but if they weren't there, I…well…uhm…" Stork realized he didn't want to tell Finn how close he'd been to killing himself. "Let's just say I'm following them now."

"They'll survive if you're with them," Finn told Stork with a smile. "You think the Storm Hawks woulda survived as long as we did if you weren't there to bail us out?"

"Flattery aside, I don't exactly know how long-term this arrangement's gonna be," Stork answered.

"You're friends with them?"

"Well, we've only just met, but…more or less, yes."

"You like 'em?"

"For some reason, I do."

"Then go with 'em," Finn encouraged. "Be their helmsman. They probably need you. And…right now, the Storm Hawks…well…we kinda don't."

A heavy silence hung between the two of them for a while before Stork said, "You need me."

"Stork, look at me. I'm not going anywhere for a while. I'm not exactly in need of a carrier pilot. And having you around for the company would be great, don't get me wrong, but…I'm me and you're you. I'll be fine, even if it turns out everybody else is really gone. But…and don't take this the wrong way…you're kind of a mess."

"Gee, thanks, Finn."

"If you found somebody who can take you out on adventures and let you relive the good old days, then go with 'em!" Finn urged.

"They were pretty good, weren't they?" Stork agreed.

Neither of them wanted to bring up the fact that they were referring to only yesterday as "The good old days."

"You're...sure you'll be okay?" Stork reiterated.

"Come on, man!" Finn actually laughed. "When am I not? Okay, ow. Laughing hurts."

"Well, you've been way, WAY more serious than you usually are, and for good reason."

"And whoever you've been with got you to say that maybe everything isn't so bad. I dunno. Might be good for you."

"Might be," Stork agreed.

"Without the Storm Hawks, there's gotta be SOMEBODY, y'know?"

"And that…would be me and them."

"You got it! But hey, I'll be back on my feet soon enough, and I'll check in with you then. That's when things can REALLY start getting awesome."

Once again, they found themselves without anything to say. Finn racked his brains before finding a comment: "Y'know, I'm real bummed out that I got beat up this bad, but it's cool that you're in good shape."

"Yeah…cool," Stork muttered.

"Okay, that's it. You're getting depressing. I think you need to get out there and have an adventure."

"I think I don't just want to leave you like this."

"I'll be FINE! How many times do I have to say it?"

Stork idly clenched and released his prehensile toes. "Mayyyyyyybe just…one more time."

"I'll be fine, Stork. Thanks for coming to check in on me and all, but if I were you, I wouldn't wanna just be hanging around a hospital all day. I'd wanna have some serious fun. Just promise me one thing."

"What?" Stork asked.

"Seeing you alive made me pretty happy. So don't die."

Stork nodded. "On one condition."

"And that is?"

If you're going to be my reason to live, don't take that away. "You don't get to die either."

"Easy! So…who ARE these friends of yours?"

"Well…" Stork reached back to open the door.

And as he did so, Sora, Ruby, and Papyrus, not expecting the door to move, all toppled into the room in a pile.

"You just COULDN'T leave it alone, could you?" Stork snapped at the trio.

"I like them already," Finn said with a smile.

...

Cedric was doing it for the Amulet of Avalor. That was what he told himself, anyway.

After the disappearance of Princess Sofia from the royal gardens of Enchancia, King Roland and Queen Miranda had issued a demand that every guard was to search for her and bring her back safely from whomever had kidnapped her. Roland had made a special entreaty to the royal sorcerer, Cedric, to employ whatever magic he could in the location of the young princess.

Cedric had mixed feelings upon hearing that something terrible had befallen Sofia. On one hand, she was a nuisance, always coming to him to bother him about wanting this or that because she couldn't solve her problems on her own without magic. If anyone stood in the way of Cedric's secret plans to one day rule Enchancia himself, it was that girl, always getting in his hair and being righteous beyond what any normal person should be. He put a lot of effort into pretending to care for her so that Roland would keep him employed. He was far better off with her gone.

And yet, sometimes he didn't really have to try. There were endearing things about her. She was a kind young soul, and as annoying as she could be to Cedric, there were many days she was genuinely thoughtful toward him, and she seemed to have faith in him when no one else did – not Roland or Miranda, not his own parents. To hear that such an innocent soul was in the clutches of evil had come as a bit of a horror.

In the end, Cedric had based his decision on the fact that if Sofia was gone, so was the Amulet of Avalor. And if the Amulet of Avalor was gone, he couldn't use it to take over Enchancia. True, he'd discovered that such a feat was incredibly complicated, as he himself couldn't wear the amulet without it cursing him for all his bad deeds, but he was working on ways around it.

So it was after the amulet he literally took flight, rigging up a carriage with a single flying horse and setting out over Enchancia on his quest. Based on the description of what had happened, he had a pretty good guess who was behind the kidnapping: Morgana le Fay, the only sorcerer in all the land who was even more rotten than himself. (That was what he told himself, anyway.) He was frightened by the prospect of having to take her on alone, but was he not Cedric the Sensational? Was he not an incredibly powerful mage, able to cast devastating spells? So what if Morgana had managed to completely stymie and kidnap him once in the past? This time would be different! This time, he would show her who was the top sorcerer!

While thinking about his glory to come and focusing on the skies ahead, he didn't think to look below him to the trio of travelers that emptied out of a Corridor of Darkness. After all, there was no possible way he could have been prepared for one of them, eager to play a game of target practice, to launch an exploding skull at his vehicle. The skull didn't quite hit home: it exploded nearby, spooking the flying horse and blowing the front wheels of the carriage to splinters. The horse went wild, speeding off into the blue while Cedric's carriage plummeted down and down, only stopped from a terrible shattering against the ground when it connected with and bounced off the top of a tall tree, then a slightly shorter one, then an even shorter one. Cedric clutched the front edge of the vehicle in a death grip as he finally hit the ground, clenching his eyes and mouth shut in a brace for the worst. When he found himself not only alive but relatively unharmed save for a few bruises, he gently pried his eyes open. "I'm all right," he muttered. "I'm all right! …But whoever did that to my carriage isn't about to be."

He vaulted out of the carriage and stormed into the woods to look for his attacker. It didn't take him long to run into Mim, Aghoul, and Neo.

"I TOLD you you missed!" Mim announced. "He's still alive!"

Neo snapped her fingers in disappointment.

"Well, there's always next time!" Aghoul replied, materializing a second skull into his hands and bouncing it up and down threateningly.

"M…" Cedric sputtered. "M…M-M-M-M-M-M-M – "

"Oh, come on, you can give us better last words than that," Aghoul cajoled.

"M-M-M-M-MAD MADAM MIM!" Cedric yelped.

"Better," Aghoul commented, drawing back his throwing arm.

Mim caught him by the wrist, stopping him from letting the skull fly. "Hang on," she pointed out. "How does HE know who I am when I've never seen him before in my life!"

"You think I wouldn't know Merlin's archnemesis?" Cedric explained. "I happen to know everything about Merlin, from the first spell he ever cast to his favorite sort of hat! I'm his biggest fan, after all! And from what I know about you…" His voice quivered. "I've only got a few more seconds."

"I see," Mim replied. "And what do you think of…Morgana le Fay?"

"Morgana?" Cedric repeated. "Merlin's second biggest rival, of course. Very powerful and ruthless, but only about half as frightening! Please, I beg of you, whatever you're planning, don't make it too painful!"

"Hmmm…" Mim thought her options over. "Is Morgana on this here world?"

"Of course she is!" Cedric answered. "I was on my way to her dark fortress right now to retrieve a very valuable amulet she stole!"

"Did you just say 'valuable amulet'?" Aghoul's interest was piqued as he let the skull dissipate. "Would it happen to be a MAGICAL amulet?"

"Who cares?" Mim snapped. "We finally know where Morgana is hiding, and we can get RID of her once and for all!"

"Get rid of Morgana…?" Cedric repeated. Suddenly, an idea took shape. Mim was far more volatile and dangerous than Morgana in his eyes, but unlike Morgana, she rarely paid visits to Enchancia. If he could somehow convince Mim to ally with him instead of harming him – loath as he was to join forces with such an enemy of Merlin – then he could set the two of them against each other, and at the end of the day, one of them might be gone. Mim might just even be the secret weapon he needed to face down Morgana and get Sofia – and, more importantly, he reminded himself, the Amulet of Avalor – back! "I could…potentially help you on your quest to do that, you know!"

"Oh, really?" Mim barked. "Are you some sort of sorcerer?"  
"Why, in fact, I am!" Cedric boasted. "They call me Cedric the Sensational for a reason, after all! Watch and be amazed!"

He withdrew a wand from his sleeve, waving it about to charge up the magic within before letting loose at a nearby tree. Beautiful pink flowers that smelled of bubble gum sprouted up all over the tree.

"PRETTY FLOWERS?" Mim seethed.

"Right, right, right!" Cedric realized. "Perhaps you'll find THIS more impressive!" Another flick of the wand caused every single flower to rot to black and drop off the tree.

"Now, that's more my speed!" Mim complimented. "But why would we need YOU to take on Morgana?"

"Because I know where she is, and you don't," Cedric replied haughtily.

"Point," Mim conceded. "Well, then, lead on!"

"It's a bit of a walk," Cedric informed them. "After all, you wrecked my carriage!"

"Well, that's all the more time for you to tell us about this…magic amulet," Aghoul suggested as the quartet began to walk in the direction Cedric had been flying.

"I don't see why I should!" Cedric huffed.

"You remember what you did to those flowers?" Mim prompted. "If you decide not to play nice, we can do that to YOU."

"The Amulet of Avalor!" Cedric sputtered. "Of course, of course! Well, you see…"

...

King Ocula of Terra Valhalla was found in one of the dark, tall-ceilinged chambers of his fortress practicing his proficiency with his halberd, using the crystal-powered weapon to cut through several wooden dummies right through the chest area. Their top halves hit the stone floor hard and bounced.

"Your Highness," one of his messengers interrupted. "There is a group of…rather colorful visitors here to see you."

"Oh, really?" Ocula stepped away from his targets and stood up to full height. The room was lit by an arched fireplace whose flickering glow highlighted the patch he wore over the socket where his left eye had been. "And what do these 'visitors' want?"

"They come seeking crystals," the messenger reported. "The same crystals, apparently, that you granted to Master Cyclonis not too long ago."

Ocula let out a deep laugh. "I owed the daughter of Anarchis a debt," he stated. "Let me guess. These strangers think they can just waltz in and ASK for the Leviathan Crystals the way she did?"

"Apparently," the messenger replied, "though I have not explained the proper procedure to them. I thought you would like the honor of doing that yourself."

"You thought right," Ocula confirmed. "I want to see who has the guts to come ask for the Leviathan Crystal. I want to see what they're made of!"

He placed the halberd in a holster strapped across his back and made his way down to the entry hall of the fortress, which, like everything else in the building, was dark, spacious, and characterized by arches in its architecture. A row of narrow windows illuminated the strangers who stood before Ocula. Of the five of them, Ocula was caught off guard that one of them was completely unmoving; the other four showed signs of life, shifting a bit where they stood.

"You are the lord of this Terra?" the Huntsman asked. He, Yzma, Ravess, and Snipe had left Piper in the cargo hold of their ship for safekeeping. Ravess had suggested they leave Mozenrath there as well, since he wasn't doing much to actively help them as it were, but the Huntsman wouldn't hear of it, and had brought the frozen man inside to stand alongside the rest of them.

"That I am," Ocula confirmed. "And who are you?"

"Travelers from afar, seeking a treasure we are told you guard," the Huntsman replied.

"The Leviathan Crystals," Ocula filled in. "Capable of massive quantities of energy. Able to power entire Terras if acquired in the right size. Carrying within them the power of wild beasts, able to attack at the behest of their wielders. Is that what you have come seeking?"

"Yes, that sounds like EXACTLY what we want!" Ravess chirped.

"So if we could just load up on some of those and get outta here…" Snipe added.

Ocula responded to this by laughing long and loud.

"You will forgive our associate's density," Yzma sighed.

"Aw, but that's what makes me so good in a fight!" Snipe pounded his chest proudly. "It's 'cause I'm so dense!"

"OH, for the love of – just SHUT UP," Ravess groaned.

"I'm glad you think you're good at combat," Ocula stated. "Because that's the only way you're going to get your hands on any Leviathan Crystals."

"Please, do explain," Yzma implored.

"Here in Terra Valhalla, we value soldiers and strength," Ocula expounded. "Whenever a favor is demanded of the king, whoever asks earns the right to that favor by proving themselves in combat against the Terra's strongest warrior. If you are victorious, your request will be considered and, in all likelihood, granted. But if you fail, your request will be denied."

"So we must fight you in order to earn the crystals we seek?" the Huntsman reiterated.

"Me?" Ocula repeated. "I wish I could claim to be the Terra's strongest. But no, you will be facing the champion Huginnmuninn. And he has turned many people away with fewer limbs attached than they had when they came in." His mind momentarily recalled the last challenger who was actually able to defeat Huginnmuninn: the lithe blue-haired crystal mage, Piper, and her fast flight. "You may, of course, withdraw your request if you do not believe you are up to the challenge."

"Oh, we're UP for it!" Snipe cried enthusiastically. "Besides, your champion can't take all four of us at once!"

"Only ONE of you will face Huginnmuninn," Ocula clarified. "Choose wisely."

"We shall rise to your challenge," the Huntsman told Ocula. "And I shall be the one to face Huginnmuninn."

"But I wanted to – " Snipe began to argue.

The Huntsman held up a hand to silence Snipe, sending him a glare that sent a shiver of fright running down the purple-haired man's spine. "I shall be your champion," he growled decisively. "And the crystals shall be ours."

"You seem very confident," Ocula observed. "I like that. The battle shall commence at moonrise. Will you be needing a weapon?"

"No," the Huntsman answered, bringing out the huntstaff for Ocula to observe.

"That is a unique weapon," the king commented. "Very well. I will give you room in this fortress to make any preparations you need. One more thing, if I may ask it. What is wrong with your companion there?" He pointed to Mozenrath.

"What do you know of crystal magic?" the Huntsman asked.

"It powers weapons," Ocula answered. "What more does a person need to know?"

"Then never mind him," the Huntsman implored.

"Follow me to the preparation chambers," Ocula commanded, leading the group deeper into the dark labyrinth of the fortress, the Huntsman once again taking Mozenrath up to carry.

Mozenrath was by now beyond frustrated that he still couldn't move a muscle, but at the very least, the architecture of the fortress made everything feel that much more like home.

...

By the time Riku and his newfound entourage had been briefed and come up with their mission, Mog had finished repairs to Jaune, Nora, and Ren's weapons. Now fully armed, the team made way toward Villain's Vale, careful to take the long way around and approach from behind.

"Won't Maleficent be expecting that?" Jaune asked nervously.

"We have to try something," Riku told him, "and it's better than approaching from the front."

As the group continued on, Kairi, who had been out front in the original formation, intentionally slowed her pace so she could walk next to Jaune. His fascination with her hadn't gone unnoticed; she simply wasn't sure how to respond quite yet. She did know that he was very kind, fun to be around, and not bad-looking at all. Looking at him now, she could see that he was tense, even quivering a bit as he walked. "You okay?" she asked.

"Me?" Jaune replied. "Yeah! No problems here! I'm Mister Fearless! Gonna break in there, kick some villain butt if I have to, and save the day!"

"Jaune," Kairi said sternly.

"All right…" Jaune sighed. "Right now, I'm terrified. The way they talk about this Maleficent, it sounds like she's more powerful than ANYTHING we ever had to deal with back on Remnant. Even the giant Grimm dragon. Am I the only person here who thinks we're heading toward our deaths?"

"If you're scared, why didn't you stay behind?" Kairi asked. "We would have been okay with that if you needed to."

"Because I already let one person I loved run toward her doom without me," Jaune replied, "and I'm not gonna let that happen again. I just wish I was more like you. Y'know…actually good at fighting. And less scared."

"I don't think I'm that good," Kairi admitted. "At least not next to Sora and Riku."

"Are you KIDDING? You're the only reason I'm alive after the dragon incident!"

Kairi blushed a bit, tucking her long red hair behind an ear. "And can I tell you a secret?"

"Sure. I won't tell anybody."

Dropping her voice, Kairi told Jaune, "I'm scared right now too. I'm actually really scared of most things we have to fight. I guess I'm just good at covering it up. But I trust Riku to know what he's doing. I know the rest of us are good fighters, and these new people all seem to know what they're doing too. I don't really have any reason to be scared…but I still am. I wish I was braver."

"Isn't that what being brave is?" Jaune reminded her. "When you're really scared, but you do stuff anyway?"

"I guess it is," Kairi realized. "That makes you brave, too, and you should be proud of it."

"Heh…thanks." Jaune felt a blush rising to his own face.

The group fell quiet as they neared the fortress. A door in the rear of the building allowed them passage inside, and they went as quietly as they could until Ren whispered, "Something is wrong. They shouldn't have let us get in this easily."

"Hey, I'm not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth," Chip told him. "Um…no offense."

"None taken…I think," Cadance replied.

"It's some sort of trap," Ren insisted.

"We can't go back now," Riku decided. "If it is a trap, we just have to be able to fight our way out of it."

"Which way now, Phineas?" Madison asked. "Your light led us here."

"Hmm…" Phineas looked over the twisting and turning dark hallways ahead. He pointed decisively down one; "Thataway."

"Take the lead," Riku encouraged him. "We'll follow."

Phineas brought the group through a winding maze, then a spiral staircase that went far below the ground. At one landing, Phineas paused; they could all hear a voice cutting through the silence.

"Blast this cleaning duty; blast this wretched, wretched cleaning duty! Isn't it enough that I brought that heart back for Maleficent? These rubber gloves aren't even my color one bit!"

Luna and Cadance both gasped quietly.

But the owner of the voice didn't notice the group, and they were able to continue to the bottom of the stairway unnoticed. A small wooden door was set there, and the landing opened out into an expansive room filled with similar doors.

"We should split up," Riku suggested. "Can you tell us what Necrolai and Leelee look like so we know what we're looking for?"

"Necrolai is skinny and brunette," Nick described. "Leelee has long blonde hair. What about Even?"

"Blond," Riku answered. "With bright green eyes and a sharp face. He's also…loud. You'll know who he is as soon as he starts complaining."

As all but Riku, Vida, and Nora took off into the bowels of the dungeon, Riku struck out at the door before him with a loud cry, shattering it. He was instantly aware of a drop in temperature as he entered the small cell beyond. Vida and Nora followed him in and were instantly greeted by the sight of the cell's prisoner.

"Necrolai?" Vida said softly once she took note of the woman chained to the ceiling and floor.

"Vida," Necrolai croaked. "Why are you here?"

"We came to save you and Leelee," Vida answered. "And how's that for irony that I'm the one that found YOU?"

"Just hang on," Riku told Necrolai. "We'll get you out of here. Hold still."

He shot forward with powerful speed, slashing twice. The chains that bound Necrolai at wrist and ankle were severed.

"Now come on!" Nora beckoned. "Let's get outta here!" She bolted out the door.

Necrolai turned to Riku first; "Thank you." Then to Vida; "And I thank you for coming after me. I would not have thought you would want to."

"So you turned me into a bloodthirsty vampire once," Vida said with a shrug. "Past's the past, right?"

Riku gave the air an experimental sniff. "The Darkness is thick in this castle," he observed, "but none of it's coming from you."

"I've left the Darkness behind," Necrolai stated.

Nora poked her head back into the room to yell "Hel-LO! We're still in the middle of the enemy base here! TICK TOCK!"

That was enough to spur the four into moving.

Kairi broke through another door in the dungeon to find not a prisoner but an object: a glimmering heart carved of pure crystal. "Cadance!" she called across the hall. "I think I found what you were looking for!"

Jaune, Xander, and Cadance crowded in around Kairi. "It is the Crystal Heart!" Cadance gasped.

Kairi gathered the gem into her arms. "Let's go."

Luna broke down a third door with Phineas and Madison in tow. The drop in temperature was even more noticeable here than in Necrolai's cell; wintry conditions had caused frost to form on the walls. This cell also contained a prisoner, chained to the ceiling and floor, pale and thin from her time in captivity. She shivered from the cold she had been kept in by Maleficent's cruelty.

"LEELEE!" Phineas cried in horror.

"Ph-Phineas?" Leelee replied in a thin voice.

"Fear not," Luna said calmly. "We've come to rescue you." Her horn glowed, and Leelee's shackles popped open.

Leelee rushed to Phineas, and the pair locked in a tight embrace. "I was startin' to get scared I'd never see you again," Phineas practically sobbed.

"I missed you so much," Leelee breathed, "and I kept hoping you were okay."

"It's okay. We're gonna get you outta here!"

"Thank you…so much…I'm so cold…"

"Here." Phineas wrapped both of Leelee's hands in his own. "That should warm 'em up."

All but Nick, Chip, and Ren reconvened in the center of the dungeon. "MOM!" Leelee cried out, breaking into a run at Necrolai.

"Leelee!" Now it was Necrolai and Leelee who embraced tightly. "Oh, Leelee, are you all right?"

"I think so…I'm just cold. What about you?"

"I'll be okay. Oh, I'm so glad you're safe…"

Ren, Chip, and Nick returned to the group with somber looks. "We checked out every other cell down here," Nick informed the rest. "There's no one else."

"It's a big castle," Kairi pointed out. "Maybe they're keeping Even somewhere else."

"Great," Jaune sighed. "And here I was thinking it would be easy."

As if fate was determined to get Jaune back for such a statement, there was the sound of a heavy SLAM; a thick gate of metal bars had fallen into place before the entry to the spiral stairway.

"Ohhhh, that is not good," Jaune whimpered. "That is not good that is not good that is not GOOD!"

"Nobody panic!" Nick called out.

"I can easily return us to the town square," Luna informed the group, charging up her horn to cast a Corridor of Darkness. As the magic began to form, it fizzled out with a pop.

"Did you really think I would not see your arrival in my mirror?" a regal voice sounded from the other side of the bars. All turned to see Grimhilde staring into the enclosed dungeon at her prisoners. "You are now stripped of all of your magic. The Inhibitor should have seen to that."

"It WAS a trap!" Chip cried.

"Inhibitor?" Vida repeated.

"I think she means this," Cadance pointed out, looking up to where a strange device had appeared on the ceiling. It was spherical in shape and covered with numerous eyes that blinked and gazed about.

"Ewwwww," Jaune groaned.

"That would be kinda cool if we weren't in so much trouble right now," Nora pointed out.

"Inhibitors have appeared throughout the castle," Grimhilde informed the group, "and whatever they see is stripped of magic. You will be forced to await your fate here."

Riku gritted his teeth. He tried to summon his blade to hand, but it refused to come; the act of calling and dismissing the Keyblade was magical in nature.

As Grimhilde turned and stalked away, Nora began laughing. "Boy, is she dumb!" she crowed once the witch was out of sight. "She thinks a little iron is gonna stop us?" She drew Magnhild, swinging the hammer full strength at the gate. The bars bent where they were struck, but did not break. "Okay, so this might take a couple tries." Nora drew Magnhild back again, going in for another swing.

"Nothing Maleficent ever does is dumb," Riku muttered. "There's more going on here than we know…"

Grimhilde stalked into the only room in the castle that had not sprouted an Inhibitor, and for good reason; a bubbling cauldron was overflowing with magic in the center of the chamber. "I have trapped them momentarily in the dungeons," she informed the two others in the room. "You have but a short while before they escape."

"It will hold them for long enough for me to finish this spell," Ursula replied, dumping a bottle into the cauldron and producing a mushroom cloud of smoke. "It'll be the first time I've given this baby a real run for its money. The last version of it wasn't meant to work on magical weapons, after all. Now, since we'll be hitting phase two any minute now…"

"Way ahead of ya, babe," Hades said with a wink as he disappeared in a column of flame.

Nora gave one last powerful swing, and the bars of the gate broke, allowing the group to slip through one by one. Riku led the charge up the spiral stairway. "Luna!" he called back down. "If we get out of the way of the Inhibitors, can you still bring us back to town?"

"Yes, I can!" Luna confirmed.

"We're getting out of the castle," Riku announced to the group.

"But what about Even?" Kairi cried.

"We'll have to come back for him later!" Riku told her, though he already had a bad feeling from the fact that Even wasn't to be found in the dungeon with Necrolai and Leelee.

Kairi nodded, tightening her grip on the Crystal Heart.

As Riku burst through the door through which the team had come, he stopped short. And as the others followed, they too pulled to a halt right behind him. Grimhilde, Ursula, Hades, and Cruella had been ready for them. The entire valley was packed with Heartless: Shadows, Neoshadows, Invisibles, Darkballs. And all of them were now alert to the new arrivals among them, hungry for a fight, surging as a tidal wave toward Riku and his team.

Hoping against hope, Riku reached out, and this time, the Keyblade came when called. With a roar, he dashed at the front line of Shadows, cutting them down en masse with a Dark Splicer. Upon seeing Riku's success with his Keyblade, Kairi, still clutching the Crystal Heart close, summoned her own, whirling into the fray.

"All right, everyone!" Nick called out. "You know what to do!"

He, Chip, Vida, Madison, and Xander removed five magic wands disguised in the form of cell phones from their pockets, waving them in an identical gesture; "LEGENDARY SOURCE! MYSTIC FORCE!" Light engulfed the quintet, clothing them each in a uniform consisting of a tight suit, a cape, and a helmet: Nick's red, Chip yellow, Vida pink, Madison blue, and Xander green. Magical staffs topped with devices that resembled phone rotaries appeared in their hands. With a loud battle cry, they rushed at the Heartless, firing out beams from their staffs.

"Whoa…" Jaune remarked. "That was cool."

"WAY cool!" Nora agreed. "Now let's not let them have ALL the fun!" She swung Magnhild hard at a Darkball. Jaune held up his shield in time to block a jumping Neoshadow. Ren opened fire on a troop of Shadows. Luna and Cadance blasted Invisibles left and right with their magic. Leelee and Phineas exchanged glances before assuming a synchronized routine of martial arts against the horde. Necrolai spun to kick a Darkball out of the air.

The horde was thinned in very little time. Riku and Nick had ended up side-by-side, Darkness and Light banding together to bring down the entities of evil. As they disposed of one particularly tough Invisible together, they were met with a wall of fire that solidified into a tall figure. Nick was filled with a sense of dread, but nothing in comparison to the horror that Riku felt, for unlike Nick, he recognized the being standing before him.

"Kids these days grow up so fast," Hades remarked. "One minute, you're raisin' 'em to become the next avatar of Darkness in the known multiverse. The next, they're trying to steal your stuff and sneak out of your house. What's a parent gotta do these days, huh?"

"You and Maleficent don't control me anymore," Riku seethed through gritted teeth.

"Uh, yeah, duh," Hades replied. "As you can see by the fact that you're TAKING OUR PRISONERS BACK."

Riku held his Keyblade outward menacingly. "You've been beaten by Keybearers before. It can happen again."

"Where's the last prisoner?" Nick demanded, pointing at Hades. "Where's Even?"

"Don't know, don't care," Hades offered. "How's that for ya? Oh, and on the note of you beating me up…see, funny story…"

He erupted into another column of flame, this one reaching as high as the tallest tower of the castle. When the fires settled, they revealed that Hades was as a giant, now the size of the height they had reached.

"Okay," Jaune called out as he skewered a Shadow, "anybody got a plan for how to deal with a GIANT GUY ON FIRE?"

"This looks like a job for a Titan!" Vida answered; she, Nick, Madison, Chip, and Xander banded together, spinning the rotary dials on their staffs. "Spell code 5!"

The light that resulted was immense, morphing the five Mystic Rangers into an entity just as large as Hades: a mechanized, armored humanoid wielding a positively enormous spear.

"You call that a Titan?" Hades scoffed as he called a fireball into each hand, launching them both at the Megazord in succession.

The Megazord, at the behest of its five pilots, blocked both shots with the spear before charging the weapon up with magic and thrusting it at Hades. Hades caught the spear point in both hands, trying to shove it away, but the Megazord was strong enough to give him difficulty, and the spear was actually burning his hands ever so slightly.

"GO RANGERS!" Nora squealed as she swatted a Darkball into a range where Luna could zap it. There were now only a few Heartless left on the field; soon, Hades would be the only opponent worth focusing on.

"Sheesh, you kids really pack a punch!" Hades remarked, shoving back against the spear. "Almost makes me glad I'm just a diversion!"

His booming voice echoed out over the whole battlefield, and just as the last of the Heartless were slain, everyone was given pause.

"He…did NOT just say…" Jaune sputtered.

"I am afraid he did," Luna said somberly.

Hades disappeared in a rush of flame, leaving behind one last statement: "And by the way, you are REALLY going to regret bringing out the big guns."

Inside the fortress, Ursula's spell had reached completion. A pink smog poured out from her cauldron, seeping out through the windows of Villain's Vale and through the surrounding valley. It engulfed the team of warriors completely, inciting a few fits of coughing.

"Poison?" Cadance gasped.

"No…" Luna realized. "Not poison…this is something else."

Riku's Keyblade, having absorbed enough smoke to gain a pink aura, ripped itself from its master's hand and turned on him. Riku quickly zoomed out of the way as the Keyblade attempted to murder its owner, speeding toward where he had stood, then circling back around for a retry; Riku darted to the side again, missing by only a hair.

Kairi's Keyblade had also gone wild, spinning round and round in the air like a thrown boomerang, circling far away from its owner to come back at her with greater force. Kairi turned and fled, keeping a tight grip on the Crystal Heart. As she passed Cadance, Cadance summoned up a deflection shield that caused the flowery blade to bounce harmlessly off.

"KAIRI!" Jaune yelled, raising his shield and running toward the redhead. "I'M COMING – "

His shield, glowing bright pink, turned and bashed him in the face, knocking him over. He shrieked as he rolled to avoid his sword, which was jabbing itself into the ground on a course for his body.

Magnhild and StormFlower were similarly possessed. Magnhild collided with Nora at full force, and were she made of less sturdy stuff, she might have suffered something worse than having the wind knocked out of her as she flew backward. Ren was having trouble avoiding the slices of two blades at once, and he came away with quite a few cuts.

The worst of it, however, came from the Rangers' end. Up in the cockpit of the Titan Megazord, Nick suddenly realized he had no more control over the armored behemoth. "What's happening?" he cried.

"It's going out of control!" Chip answered as the Megazord began to move of its own accord, glowing with a bright pink aura on the outside.

"It's going to hurt them!" Madison realized as the Megazord raised its spear to bring down upon Necrolai, Phineas, and Leelee.

The three unlucky targets looked up to see the possessed Megazord far too late to do anything about it; Leelee and Phineas screamed as the spear was brought down. The enormous weapon was halted when Luna skidded in front of them, forcing a beam of magic upward that repelled the spear just long enough for Necrolai, Leelee, and Phineas to move. Sweating from the effort, Luna let go of her spell and dodged in time for the spear to harmlessly hit the ground.

"EVERYPONY, TO ME!" Cadance cried. "I'LL SHIELD YOU!"

The pink smog had finally died down, but its effects lasted; Riku, Kairi, Luna, Phineas, Necrolai, Leelee, Nora, Jaune, and Ren rushed to the Crystal Princess in time for her to put a dome of blue energy up around them, protecting them from their wayward weapons. Magnhild, StormFlower, Crocea Mors, and the two Keyblades hammered at the dome; they were soon joined by the massive spear of the Megazord.

"I can take you back to the town square," Luna pointed out. "You can all escape."

"But what about the Rangers?" Leelee asked worriedly.

"We have to get them out of that thing!" Riku insisted.

"That is what I thought you would say," Luna replied with a nod; there was a reason she hadn't simply created the portal on the spot.

"What can we even DO at this point?" Jaune asked worriedly.

"A Limit," Riku realized. "Or something like it. A joint attack. If we all put our powers together, we can bring down that armor."

"But we don't have our weapons!" Nora cried.

"We don't need our weapons," Riku insisted. "Just ourselves. Follow my lead! Kairi, help me charge Nora!"

"EEEEEE-YES!" Nora bounced up and down, fist in the air.

Riku and Kairi cast their hands toward the jumping girl; "THUNDER!"

Nora crackled with the electricity she absorbed, and the giggle she let out was positively maniacal.

"Phineas, Leelee, Necrolai, Nora, Jaune, and Ren," Riku ordered, "hit it as hard as you can from below. Cadance, you take Kairi up high. Luna, take me up higher. And remember to work together! Everyone got that?"

He was met with a crowd of nods.

Riku waited for the spear point of the Titan Megazord to come down on the dome one more time before yelling, "Cadance! DROP THE SHIELD!"

The dome vanished, and everyone ran out of range of the possessed weapons, heading for the Megazord. "Ren!" Nora yelled. "Jaune! You guys ready to fly?"

The two addressed fell in running on either side of Nora. Ren just gave her a nod of affirmation.

"Wait," Jaune said warily. "What do you mean, 'Fly'?"

Nora grabbed Jaune and Ren by an arm each, then, drawing upon the strength Riku and Kairi had given her through Thundaga, threw them both up into the air at the Megazord's midsection. They drew back their fists, which crackled slightly, having taken on some residual electricity from Nora, and collided hard with the armor.

Down below, Necrolai gave her daughter and said daughter's boyfriend a playful smirk. "Let's see if you can still keep up with me," she teased before launching into a spin at the Megazord's ankles.

"Let's show her, Phineas!" Leelee cried before the pair followed Necrolai's suit, leaping at the Megazord, dealing it a thrice-synchronized kick followed by a series of fast attacks, hands and feet flying in perfect unison.

"Get onto my back!" Luna commanded Riku. "I will fly you toward the armor's head!"

"And I'll take you toward the heart!" Kairi told Cadance.

As Riku and Kairi vaulted onto Luna and Cadance, who took off into the air, Jaune and Ren flipped backward off the Megazord's stomach in unison, grabbing onto the shaft of the spear. They both got a good grip on it, but their momentum wasn't enough to disarm the Megazord. "Come on," Jaune moaned, "come onnnnnnn…"

The Megazord flailed its spear wildly in an attempt to shake the boys off. As the point dragged across the ground, Nora grabbed hold of the point, heaving, the last of the electricity she'd stored up augmenting her muscles. The spear was ripped from the Megazord's mighty hand, crashing to the ground.

When Cadance reached the level of the Megazord's chest, she told Kairi, "Jump."

"What?" Kairi was taken aback.

"I'll catch you," Cadance promised. "And let go of the Crystal Heart. I'll catch it too."

Kairi slid off Cadance's back, beginning a short freefall, dropping the crystal in the process. Both crystal and Kairi were caught up in a bright blue aura projected by Cadance; Kairi recognized it as the same magic that had made up the protective dome. She rapped her knuckles against the opposite forearm; she was covered in a magical shell that made her invincible.

"Cast your magic!" Cadance ordered Kairi. "I'll take you around!" She levitated the Crystal Heart close to herself before sending Kairi flying in a circle around the Megazord's abdomen. Kairi turned to the massive armor and began casting Blizzara, sending spikes of ice into the colossus. The Megazord attempted to swipe at her with its huge hands, but they merely glanced off the protective shield.

Luna brought Riku all the way up to the Megazord's head. "Cast your Darkest spell," she ordered. "I will make it greater."

Riku gathered a Dark Firaga sphere in his hands. As he let it loose, Luna shot her own energy directly into it, enlarging it and making it hotter. It struck the Megazord directly in the face, making the entire armor reel. And once it had hit home, Riku and Luna followed up with yet another blow.

The combination of all these attacks destabilized the Megazord; its outline blurred and it wobbled. Then, in a bright flash of light, it was suddenly gone. The spear dissolved. Nick, Madison, Xander, Chip, and Vida lay on the ground, dazed, wearing their street clothes. Their staffs stuck into the ground before them before reverting even further back into the size and shape of cell phones. Xander scrambled to pick his up, but backed off when he realized all five wands were still glowing pink.

Leelee immediately rushed to give Madison a hand up. "Thanks," Madison breathed as Leelee hauled her to her feet. Necrolai and Phineas assisted in helping the other four stand.

Nora, Jaune, Ren, Cadance, Kairi, Luna, and Riku rejoined the group, Cadance putting up another protective dome. "NOW!" Riku yelled, and Luna cast a Corridor of Darkness leading back to the Radiant Garden town square. Everyone dashed through, Kairi taking a hold back on the Crystal Heart.

As soon as they were gone, the Keyblades, the mystic wands, and the three weapons from Remnant took flight, sailing through a window of Villain's Vale into Ursula's chambers, where they floated obediently before their new master. Ursula, in response, gave a long and loud laugh.

...

Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, and Stork did end up accompanying Capercaillie on his way back to the central fortress. "We should still tell my father what happened," Capercaillie decided.

"But…maybe we should hold off on the memorial service," Stork suggested. "At least until we…know."

"I agree," Capercaillie said with a nod.

As they entered the fortress' atrium, Stork remarked, "I always did like this place."

"Capercaillie!" a voice boomed. Ocula strode down the hall to greet his son with arms extended. "And what's this? Stork of the Storm Hawks? To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Not a pleasure, I'm afraid," Capercaillie informed his father. "There was a terrible attack on the Condor. Stork and Finn survived, but we aren't sure of the rest."

Ocula's demeanor changed; he dropped his arms, and his gaze became somber. "My condolences," he said softly. "The Storm Hawks were the finest warriors I had known." Or at least Piper, Aerrow, Finn, and Junko had been, he thought. He didn't hold much respect for tiny Radaar, and he had never seen Stork fight.

"Thanks," Stork replied.

"Well, if you need cheering up, there's going to be a battle tonight you probably don't want to miss," Ocula suggested.

"A battle?" Sora asked, lighting up. "Like a tournament?"

"Here at Terra Valhalla, requests of the royal family are granted by prowess in the combat arena," Capercaillie explained. "It's a disgusting tradition that in no way reveals a person's true worth."

"The Storm Hawks proved their own worth in the ring, didn't they?" Ocula argued. "How well a man can fight is the sum of his being!"

"What is the fight for?" Capercaillie asked.

"You won't believe it," Ocula told him, "but somebody came asking for the Leviathan Crystals, and is planning to claim them in a fight against Huginnmuninn!"

Capercaillie gasped in horror. "Father, you can't! You're not planning to give those away to anything else! I thought I told you to have them destroyed!"

"And lose our edge over the other Terras by having more powerful crystals than all of them combined?" Ocula spat. "Never!"

"But the only reason someone would want the Leviathan Crystals would be to destroy other Terras!" Capercaillie argued. "Just like I warned you about Master Cyclonis!"

"Wait." Stork had put two and two together. "Are the Leviathan Crystals pink, huge, and able to take on the shape of see-through monsters?"

"The very same," Capercaillie confirmed.

"Ohhhh, this is bad," Stork muttered. He turned to Sora, Ruby, and Papyrus. "Cyclonis tried to use those to destroy the other half of Atmos…and she pretty much succeeded. Those things are BAD NEWS!"

"Hey," Sora suggested, stepping up to Ocula. "You said if people won in the battlefield, they might get requests granted, right? What if we asked you NOT to give the crystals away…and we fought for it?"

"Well," Ocula told him, "we always welcome new combatants! If one of you were to step into the ring and defeat both our champion and the one who requested the crystals, then the crystals would go to you instead, and you could use them or refuse to use them as much as you pleased!"

"Then I wanna fight both of 'em!" Sora suggested.

"And you shall!" Ocula decided.

"But…I wanna fight them," Ruby groaned.

"WHAT ABOUT ME?" Papyrus pointed out. "I COULD FIGHT THEM TOO!"

"How about next time we pick a rep, one of you can go?" Sora suggested.

"Just so long as it isn't me," Stork muttered.

"So!" Sora turned back to Ocula. "Who am I fighting?"

"Our champion, Huginnmuninn, is the strongest man in Terra Valhalla," Ocula explained. "As for the other…I do not know his name, or regrettably, his face. He kept it hidden beneath a helmet shaped like a dragon's skull."

He wasn't sure what to make of the stunned expression that came over Ruby, Papyrus, and Sora alike when he mentioned that.


	25. Know Your Enemy

25\. Know Your Enemy

Once Ocula had left Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, and Stork on their own, Sora voiced what Ruby and Papyrus were thinking: "You don't think it's that guy from Beacon and Knightdock, do you?"

"WE DID COME HERE TO FIND THEM," Papyrus pointed out.

"And how many people do you think go around wearing dragon skulls?" Ruby added.

"This is one of the people that's been tormenting you?" Stork asked.

"Yeah," Sora said with a nod. "Ruby and I caught him escaping Ruby's homeworld after he and his friends wrecked everything there. Then, when we went to Papyrus' homeworld, he and Ruby fought the same guy at the police station to stop him from killing Papyrus' friends. We know he's working with one of Ruby's enemies. There are a bunch of them working together, actually, but we don't know everything about them yet."

"AND IF THOSE CRYSTALS ARE REALLY THAT BAD…" Papyrus began.

Ruby smacked a fist into the palm of the other hand. "Then we CAN'T let the dragon-helmet guy get them."

Stork looked to Sora. "You think you can take this guy in a fight?"

"I know I can!" Sora beamed. "I've done worse than that guy!"

"And am I the only one thinking we should probably take a look around to see if we can't turn up anything else about him?" Stork continued. "I don't know this guy like you do, but in my experience, the bad guys tend not to play by the rules. They always show up with some other plan."

"Should we try and get the drop on him before the battle?" Sora wondered out loud.

"Then he might try to get away with saying we broke the rules and get the king and everyone who works for him turned against us," Ruby replied. "I don't feel like we should get mixed up in anything before the actual battle unless he starts it."

"COULD WE JUST TRY TO TALK TO HIM?" Papyrus offered.

"That would probably get him to start it," Stork sighed. "How tough IS he?"

"I'm pretty sure Sora can beat him," Ruby informed Stork, "but he's no pushover. Papyrus and I had to team up with two other warriors and a scientist with a taser last time we went up against him. Though he did have Neo that time…"

"He might have Neo again this time," Sora pointed out. "They said he was the one fighting, but they didn't say if he came alone."

"We'd better not get close to this guy before it's time if we can help it," Stork decided.

"THEN WHAT SHOULD WE DO?" Papyrus asked. "YOU'RE THE ONE WHO SAID WE SHOULD DO SOMETHING!"

"We can try and figure out his game without getting close to him," Stork stated. "If we know where to look."

...

"That one." Capercaillie pointed to an airship in the fortress' courtyard. "The others were all here earlier, but that one's new. I'm pretty sure it's the one they came in on."

"Thanks again for helping us," Sora told Capercaillie.

The prince shook his head. "Something is very wrong here. If they came here looking for the Leviathan Crystals, they're not up to any good. If I were king, I wouldn't have offered them the chance to fight for them. And if I can be honest, the only reason I'm trusting YOU to fight for the crystals is because I know Stork would never deceive us."

It crossed Stork's mind to wonder if Sora, Ruby, and Papyrus were as trustworthy as he believed, but such thoughts had been flashing into his head every now and again since they'd met. He didn't know what alternate course of action he had besides to trust them…and anyhow, he liked them.

"Let's go," Sora commanded, urging his teammates on with the wave of a hand as he walked toward the ship. Ruby, Papyrus, Stork, and Capercaillie followed.

The interior of the ship looked as though nothing were out of the ordinary. "Don't move too many things around," Ruby whispered. "We don't want them to know we were in here."

"I EXPECTED THIS SHIP TO LOOK MORE…EVIL," Papyrus commented. "MAYBE WE'RE IN THE WRONG ONE?"

"What would an evil ship even look like?" Ruby asked.

"Black and silver, with more guns and pointier wings," Sora answered. "Maybe more of those helmets inside. You think he wears the same one every time?"

"I don't know," Ruby replied. "You think it's a real dragon skull, or just a helmet that LOOKS like one?"

No one had an answer to that question.

The five stealthily moved through the ship, pulling open all of the doors to look for signs of evil, turning up nothing again and again until Ruby opened one door, took a brief look inside, and then quickly closed it. "There's someone in there!" she hissed.

Sora took up the Keyblade. Capercaillie drew his weapon, a good-sized mallet outfitted with a yellow crystal in the hilt. Papyrus summoned several large blue bones to hover in the air before him. Stork ducked and hid behind the aforementioned three.

Ruby shook her head. "No! There's someone TIED UP in there!"

"Now that's the kind of evil I was expecting," Sora stated as weapons were dismissed and put away.

Ruby eased the door open and flipped on the lights of the small room. A squeak came from the net-bound prisoner at the opposite side. At the same time, Stork gasped in recognition; "Piper!"

"STORK?" Piper replied, taken aback. "You're okay!"

"YOU'RE okay!"

"You know each other?" Sora asked.

"Piper is another one of the Storm Hawks," Stork explained.

"SO THREE OF YOU SURVIVED!" Papyrus crowed victoriously. "JUST LENDING ALL THE MORE CREDIBILITY TO MY THEORY THAT ALL OF YOU DID!"

"Three?" Piper repeated in confusion. "Who else – "

"Finn," Stork answered, "but he's kinda…covered in horrible angry burns." He took a step into the room, reaching for the net.

"No!" Piper hissed. "This net is holding me in place with paralyzer crystals! If you touch them, you'll get paralyzed too!"

Capercaillie took one look at the net and the crystals holding it together. "I can fix that," he stated, stepping forth and raising his hammer high. He went into a kneel and brought it down hard on one of the weights, shattering its crystal before raising the hammer for a second blow."

"Here." Sora entered the room as well. "This'll be faster." He summoned his Keyblade yet again, swiping across the net and tearing it wide open. He and Stork then lifted the immobile Piper out of the crisscrossed sphinx hairs.

"ARE YOU OKAY?" Papyrus asked worriedly.

"I'm fine," Piper sighed, "except for the fact that I can't move from the neck down. But it should wear off in a little bit. Probably faster than the guy I paralyzed with the Binding."

"You did WHAT?" Stork asked incredulously.

"Long story," Piper told him.

"What happened to you?" Ruby asked. "Were you captured by somebody wearing a helmet that looks like a dragon skull?"

"That's the one," Piper confirmed, "and he came with friends, including Snipe and Ravess."

Stork's response was a flat "What."

"LET ME GUESS," Papyrus volunteered. "THOSE WERE YOUR PERSONAL ARCHNEMESES!"

"Well, Cyclonis would probably take that title," Stork admitted, "but Snipe and Ravess are up there. If they're working with dragon-skull guy, that's bad. VERY bad."

"I think you should tell us EXACTLY what happened," Ruby told Piper.

"While we get you up to the fortress," Capercaillie decided. "Hanging around an enemy ship isn't a good idea."

As the group carried Piper toward the mighty castle, she related to them the tale of the Huntsman and his associates and their search for the Leviathan Crystals.

...

Cedric, Aghoul, Mim, and Neo's long walk toward Morgana's fortress had at last come to an end. As they neared the towering structure, Cedric finished up his description of the Amulet of Avalor: "In conclusion, it is the most powerful magical object in the known world. However, before you get any ideas, YOU wouldn't be able to use it."

"And why not?" Aghoul asked.

"Because of the catch that comes with using the Amulet," Cedric explained. "'With each deed performed, for better or worse, a power is granted: a gift or a curse.' Simply put, you act good while wearing the amulet, you get a very special power in return. Act villainous, and you'll find yourself with a bird's beak or hands made out of iron that you can barely move. Trust me. I know from experience. And from what I know of YOU, you couldn't act GOOD to save your very souls."

"That could pose a bit of a problem," Aghoul muttered. "Though I have enchanted necklaces to do my bidding in the past. I might just know how to make the Amulet of Avalor go permanently dormant."

"And what would you get out of THAT?" Cedric wondered out loud.

"Let's just say…sentimental value," Aghoul answered.

"If you're not going to use the amulet for its powers," Cedric asked, "why not just turn it over to me once you've finished with Morgana?"

"We want it," Aghoul growled, "and we're going to get it."

"Since when do we want it?" Mim asked.

"Uh…" Aghoul struggled to come up with an answer that wouldn't ruin the surprise for the one he admired.

Mim then shrugged. "Actually, I don't care. If some do-gooder can get magic powers from it, I'd absolutely love to take that away from them!"

"Now, be quiet from here on out!" Cedric cautioned, taking a detour off the main path to hide behind shrubbery on the side and use that cover to sneak closer to the fortress. "Morgana's castle is guarded by imps, and we don't want to deal with them!"

Mim, Aghoul, and Neo followed Cedric until their place of concealment was closest to the door. They watched a pair of imps marching back and forth in front of the castle's entry,

"Now, how to get past them?" Cedric muttered. "We have three competent mages here. We should be able to come up with some sort of spell with – and WHERE do you think you're going?"

Neo had gotten up and begun to stride casually toward the imps.

"Get back here!" Cedric hissed. "You don't know any magic! You'll alert all of Morgana's forces!"

Neo kept on walking until she faced the imps directly.

"Halt!" they both put up their left hands, clutching their weapons in their right hands.

"Who goes there?" one asked.

Before he could register what had happened, Neo was gone from in front of his eyes. A long, thin blade sank through him from behind, spearing his heart and killing him instantly. The second imp had just enough time to retrieve a horn from his belt and blow it, its sound echoing throughout the grounds, before Neo skewered him through the neck.

At the sound of the horn, a host of imps rushed down through the castle atrium to see what had come to intrude upon Morgana's castle. Seeing the small army rush at her from within the castle, Neo twirled and brandished her blade.

This was going to be fun.

...

Once Pete and Morgana had brought Sofia back to their lair, the young princess had been locked inside of a golden cage at one end of Morgana's chamber while the sorceress and the bruiser inspected the amulet more closely.

"Oh, yes, Maleficent said that there amulet is all kinds of powerful," Pete laughed. "She even said it could summon them Princesses of Heart from their homeworlds! I says first thing we should do is get one of them here to deliver back to Maleficent!"

"No!" Sofia cried. "Please, don't!"

"That's a SPLENDID idea!" Morgana cackled. "Now, which one of them should we capture first? Snow White? Or how about Aurora?" She held the amulet up to the light. "How does this thing work, anyway?"

"Uhhhh…Maleficent left that part out," Pete admitted.

And so the past while had been devoted to trying to coax the Amulet of Avalor into doing something. Morgana had tried zapping it with a variety of wands, dipping it in a plethora of potions, and dusting it with several powders, and yet it seemed to do nothing but sparkle. Watching this experimentation gave Sofia time to think, and she formulated a plan. It was rudimentary, but just perhaps it would work. After all, the amulet had a way of punishing evil deeds just perfectly, and Pete and Morgana were being very evil.

"You're never going to get it to work that way," Sofia blurted after some time.

"YOU!" Morgana whirled to face the cage. "You know how to make it work, don't you?"

"I do," Sofia said, crossing her arms defiantly, "but I don't see why I should tell you."

"Because," Morgana seethed, holding up an ornate wand that sparked with red energy, "if you don't, I'll MAKE you talk with a particularly NASTY spell!"

"Oh, no, please don't!" Sofia pretended to cower in fear, putting her arms up to shield her head. "Okay, I'll tell you! You have to put the amulet on first!"

"Good girl," Morgana purred, lowering the wand and raising the amulet to fasten around her neck.

Sofia thought out what her next move would be once Morgana had fixed the amulet in its resting place. She didn't get the chance. Before Morgana could close the clasp, the door burst open, and Neo strode into the room, shaking the corpse of an imp off her blade.

"WHAT the – " Pete blurted upon seeing her enter.

Morgana spun to face the door. "Who are YOU?"

Neo just grinned madly as Mim, Aghoul, and Cedric fell into line behind her.

"I know you!" Morgana realized.

"And well you should!" Mim snapped. "After all, you're not HALF the witch I am!"

"I didn't mean you," Morgana droned. She gestured toward Cedric. "I meant the washed-up sorcerer who tried to steal from my castle."

"I think you'll find I have a few more tricks up my sleeve than I did last time!" Cedric boasted, puffing out his chest.

"Mr. Cedric!" Sofia cried happily.

"Sofia!" Cedric's attention was turned to the cage momentarily. "Don't worry! I'll save you!" He then looked to the jewel in Morgana's hand: "But first, I have certain other matters to attend to."

Morgana tossed the amulet to Pete. "Keep this safe, and get rid of them!" she snapped.

"Righty-o, Morgana!" Pete stuffed the amulet deep into a pocket. "So ya got tricks up your sleeve, eh? Well, we got MORE tricks!" He snapped his fingers, laughing heartily as a small army of Shadows rose up from the floor and turned upon the four interlopers.

Immediately, Cedric and Neo went to work on the Shadows, blasting and stabbing the tiny creatures so that they collapsed into masses of Darkness that dissipated in the air. Pete charged Mim directly, drawing back a meaty fist; it was caught by the giant claw of the great magenta Grimm that Mim had transformed into. Aghoul, seeing an opening, summoned and lobbed an exploding skull; Morgana flicked her wrist and the skull imploded upon itself before it could touch her. Aghoul then brought his scythe into the fray, taking a swing at Morgana; the sorceress teleported out of its way, reappearing just a few inches to the side of where she'd been standing. Aghoul swept at her again and again with the curved blade, but she kept up the teleportation, making him unable to land a blow. In the meantime, Mim had shifted from Grimm to rhinoceros, shoving Pete so hard that he went rolling backward head over heels like a great misshapen ball.

The Shadows were not just attracted to their masters' foes; they sensed the light in the heart of the young princess held captive in the nearby cage. Sofia cried out as a crowd of the creatures surrounded the cage, toppling it and her on the side. One Heartless reached in through the bars, scraping with its long claws. "Mr. Cedric!" Sofia cried in terror. "HELP!"

"SOFIA!" Cedric's attention snapped toward the cage.

The Shadow succeeded in catching Sofia's arm with its claw, leaving a bleeding wound. The young princess screamed.

Cedric blasted a pathway through the Heartless surrounding the cage, transforming the bars into flowering vines that he easily ripped through, scooping Sofia into his arms. "We have to get you out of here," he said breathlessly, giving himself the command as well as Sofia the reassurance. He gave one last look at Pete, who had collided with the wall at the opposite end of the room. The Amulet of Avalor was still somewhere in his pockets. But there was no time to go after it; the Heartless were regrouping around Cedric, and carrying Sofia made the task of amulet retrieval awkward at best.

So he gave up and ran, bolting out of the chamber and down the hallway, clutching Sofia tightly. He could just come back for the Amulet of Avalor another time, he told himself, though deep down, he knew it wouldn't be that simple.

"My amulet – " Sofia began.

"There isn't time!" Cedric told her. "We have to keep you safe!"

And as they escaped Morgana's fortress, they were quickly forgotten, as all of their enemies were far too occupied with each other to care.

"Out of my way!" Mim shoved Aghoul aside, standing before Morgana. "I'M going to be the one to take HER down!"

"I don't think so," Morgana replied with a wicked grin, flicking her wand. Bolts of lightning burst forth from it, making a beeline for Mim's heart. Mim put out her hands and caught the electric energy, gathering it up as though it were a ball. She then lobbed it right back at Morgana, who teleported before it could hit home. Now feeling even more fed up than before, Mim threw a particular spell of sticking at Morgana's feet; a viscous green energy bound her feet to the floor, and as Morgana learned by trial, it prevented her from teleporting. Mim summoned a heavy double-sided axe to hand, swinging it at Morgana's midsection. Morgana protected herself with a quick deflection shield.

"The amulet!" she yelled at Pete. "Give it to me! GIVE IT TO ME NOW!"

Pete had only just righted himself and gotten his bearings. Upon hearing Morgana's call, he obediently retrieved the Amulet of Avalor from his pocket and lobbed it at Morgana. Morgana cast a great shockwave that sent Mim and Aghoul flying across the room and into a bookshelf; Neo, fighting off the last of the Shadows at the edge of the chamber, was caught by the periphery of the spell and stumbled a little. With her vicinity cleared, Morgana quickly fastened the amulet around her neck; it began to glow bright violet. Sensing some sort of great power bubbling up from the amulet, Morgana began to laugh long and loud.

With each deed performed, for better or worse, a power was granted, a gift or a curse. Morgana's outright attempts to harm and murder her opponents did not sit well with the judgment system of the Amulet of Avalor, and so it opted to grant her a curse. It did not give her a debilitating physical feature. It did not hinder her magic. Instead, it referred to a particular curse it had given a young thieving girl once. The girl had wanted to summon a princess, and so the amulet had given her one – an evil princess, Ivy, who had launched a coup on her kingdom and betrayed her. And so, to spite Morgana, the amulet summoned another force of chaos that Morgana could not possibly control: another evil princess. However, this one was a far cry from Ivy.

She appeared in a flash of light, resplendent in a gown of red that stood out brightly against her chestnut skin and shining dark hair. Absolutely baffled, she gazed around the room. Everyone else, similarly confused by her appearance, froze in place; Neo drove her blade through the last of the Shadows.

"Who are YOU?" Morgana huffed.

"Princess Irmaplotz," the newcomer said haughtily. "Commander of monsters, mistress of Darkness, and indebted for three hundred late fees on library books. Who are YOU?"

"Morgana le Fay!" Morgana replied, taken aback. "The greatest and most beautiful sorceress in the known multiverse, and archenemy of Merlin!"

"Now, you take that back!" Mim snapped. "You know quite well that I'M the greatest sorceress in the known multiverse, and the archenemy of Merlin! Though you can keep all that nasty beauty to yourself. Being the ugliest is better anyway."

"The Amulet of Avalor must have summoned you to help me!" Morgana theorized. "Irmaplotz! Side with me and destroy this poseur once and for all!"

"No!" Mim barked. "Side with ME and help me destroy this braggart sorceress!"

Irmaplotz put up both hands, one to Mim and one to Morgana. "Okay, before I pick a side, I'm gonna have to know which of you does poetry."

"Uhhhhhh…" Morgana was at a loss for words.

"Corpse flowers are purple," Aghoul began. "Pitcher plants are green."

"When I rip out your organs," Mim concluded, "I'll start with your spleen!"

Irmaplotz jabbed a thumb toward Mim. "Okay, yeah, I'm with them."

The battle resumed. Pete swung a fist at Neo, only for her to duck just a hair to the left of the punch. He tried again, and she sidled to the right. Now fully enraged, Pete aimed a series of rapid punches at the slender sadist only to be denied again and again.

Morgana swept several wands from their resting places on her tables and wall, arranging them out in front of her defensively. All of them fired rays of pure destructive energy at once, pouring out toward Mim, Aghoul, and Irmaplotz. The trio of intended victims put out their hands, sending a triple wave of magic right back, stopping the offensive energy in its tracks. As both sides poured magic toward the centerpoint, there seemed to be a stalemate.

And that was when Aghoul got the idea.

"I know just the spell that will put her in her place!" he cried. "We're going to make the Amulet of Avalor dormant after all!"

"Is that what she's using to attack us?" Irmaplotz asked.

"No," Aghoul replied. "Just what brought you here."

"Then why are we going after that instead of the wands?" Irmaplotz pressed.

"Because…" Aghoul whispered the rest of his plan.

"OOOOOOOH!" Mim squealed. "How delightful!"

"I'm going to need to channel this spell through the two of you!" Aghoul stated. "On three, I'll drop my end of the spell, and you two take my hands and put my energy back out through your own magic! All three of us casting it together should make it work! ONE!"

Neo backflipped out of Pete's way, landing neatly in front of the wall and giving him a look that dared him to try again. Clenching his teeth and fists, Pete geared up for one final charge; "GET OUTTA MY WAY!"

"TWO!"

Pete hurled himself at Neo, who evaded expertly yet again. Pete smacked fully into the wall, leaving a faint indent and stumbling away dizzily from the impact to his head.

"THREE!"

Aghoul dropped his hand, reaching for Mim and Irmaplotz's free hands and clutching them tightly. Mim, having channeled through Mozenrath before, knew immediately what to do. Irmaplotz figured it out through pure necessity. As Aghoul cast the spell that would affect Morgana and the amulet, it became the only spell that the trio was pouring out, and it was pushing back hard against Morgana's many wands. As one, Mim, Aghoul, and Irmaplotz steeled themselves to give the spell a final shove; with a combined "ARGH!", they forced it to overpower Morgana's magic and engulf the sorceress.

"No!" Morgana screamed when she realized that she was becoming saturated with an enemy spell. "NOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

The Amulet of Avalor glowed once more: a gleaming lavender. In a twinkle, Morgana vanished, being pulled inside the amulet, a prisoner within its gem. Then the amulet lost its luster, stripped of all of its magic; Morgana could not escape. The gem clinked uselessly onto the floor.

Aghoul strode casually over to it and picked it up, presenting it to Mim. "For you, my dearest. The one who thought she could take your title imprisoned forever in a dead jewel."

"I'll treasure it forever!" Mim cackled, fastening it around her neck.

Pete's head finally cleared, and he got a good look around. Morgana was gone. The amulet was in enemy hands, and the enemy significantly outnumbered him. And besides, even if they didn't, no matter how many Shadows Pete called up, he had it thoroughly demonstrated to him that Neo could take them and him all on her own, as embarrassing as it was to realize. "I'm gettin' outta here!" he decided, barreling out of the room at top speed. Reporting in to Maleficent without the Amulet of Avalor wasn't going to be pretty, but he would at least live a little longer than he would have had he stayed in the same room as Mim, Aghoul, Neo, and Irmaplotz.

After admiring the dull purple gem for a while and thinking of the torment of the sorceress within, Mim realized what she'd been called. "Wait a moment. What do you mean, 'dearest'?"

"Mim, my lovely thorny thistle," Aghoul gushed, lowering himself to a knee, "you've made me utterly smitten with you. I've never had a wife like you, and there never will be anyone like you to come. Everything you do is absolutely disgusting in the most attractive way! Won't you accept this gift of your nemesis trapped inside jewelry as a token of the closest thing I can feel to love?"

"Now, wait just a minute, you!" Mim snapped. "If you think I'm going to be another one of your wives, you can just rule that out right now!"

Aghoul's countenance fell.

"First of all, if you and I are going to be involved, marriage is OUT of the question," Mim explained. "Oh, I'll have you for my own, all right, but I'm not going to be anyone's housewife! Second of all, while your gruesomeness and macabre charm make you the most alluring man a witch could ever want, if I find someone else I like, you're going to have to share me with him!"

"Does…that mean if I find another woman who comes close to you, and I want her," Aghoul asked, "you'll share me with her?"

"Fair is fair," Mim decided. "So yes."

"And you'll be mine and make me the happiest ghoul this side of the Netherworld?"

"Only if you'll make me the happiest sorceress to have ever crossed Merlin!"

Aghoul rose to his feet, and Mim wrapped her arms around him and drew him in for a deep, fierce kiss. While it caught him off guard at first, he quickly submitted, drowning in ecstasy. Neo applauded.

"Um, excuse me?" Irmaplotz interrupted. "What's supposed to happen to me now?"

Mim and Aghoul separated themselves from each other to look at the princess, who was fixing them with an accusatory glare, hands on her hips. "Well, I suppose the amulet would have sent you right back where it came from if it were still working," Mim mused. "But it's not, so it won't."

"So I'm stuck here?" Irmaplotz sighed.

"Well, not necessarily," Mim replied. "After all, you did put up a good scrap. You said you were a commander of monsters and a mistress of Darkness?"

"Well, mostly zombies," Irmaplotz confessed. "And, for what it's worth, I'm a decent shot at underwater unicycle archery."

Mim glanced at Aghoul, then Neo. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking…?"

"Mozenrath won't mind," Aghoul surmised. "After all, he let us bring Vexen home. For all we know, he's picked up more strays while we were out."

"So you're basically going to kidnap me and bring me back to whoever this 'Mozenrath' is," Irmaplotz summarized.

"You'll get to add your villainy to a beautiful collection of sorcerers, witches, mad scientists, criminals, con men, manipulators, and murderers like you've never seen before!" Mim promised.

"Not to mention we can dig up some books of poetry," Aghoul suggested. "Provided you earn it with suitable acts of evil."

Irmaplotz thought it over for a moment, then shrugged. "Okay. I'm with you. I've got some stuff I'm sick of dealing with back home, and doing evil with some fellow villains should get my mind off things."

"You'll love it with us!" Mim promised. "Oh, I almost forgot. Allow me to introduce myself: the marvelous, magnificent Mad Madam Mim, the one TRUE nemesis of Merlin!"

"Ayam Aghoul," Aghoul added. "Master of the Macabre."

"And that's Neo," Mim concluded, pointing at the third member of their outfit. "She doesn't say much unless her weapon's doing the talking."

"Cool." Irmaplotz smirked. "So where are you guys stationed?"

Mim cast a Corridor of Darkness. "Right this way, your highness!"

Irmaplotz walked through first; Neo skipped after. When Mim and Aghoul brought up the rear, they grasped each other's hand and held on tightly. Mim's hands were rough; Aghoul's were cold and clammy. There was no better feeling as far as either was concerned.

...

As sundown drew near, word spread of the battle about to commence in the great arena of Terra Valhalla. The arena was massive, its seating raised above the combat area below, so as to put the combatants in a high-walled pit and protect the audience. There was no roof, giving an expansive view of the sky. People from both inside and outside the royal fortress wished to witness the fight, and so the arena filled quickly.

"Look what I found!" Snipe bragged as he led Ravess and Yzma through the maze of seats. "Best seats in the house!"

It turned out he had parked Mozenrath next to a massive, ornate black throne decorated with the wings of carved ravens. A smaller throne wrought of gold and silver, patterned after the horns of a stag, was adjacent to it. "I get the big chair," Snipe explained. "You two can fight over the sissy chair."

"You do realize these are the thrones of the king," Yzma pointed out. Ravess merely buried her head in both hands and let out a growl of frustration.

"They are?" Snipe took another look at the embellished furniture. "Huh. Well, that'd sure explain why no one else was usin' 'em!"

"Come on, brother," Ravess sighed, tugging at Snipe's arm. "We'll find somewhere else. Somewhere that ISN'T likely to get us killed over it."

Snipe hoisted Mozenrath up under his arm, a routine Mozenrath was truly tired of. Snipe smelled of sweat and more sweat.

As the two siblings made to look for other chairs, they realized Yzma was not with them. They turned to see her settling into the large black throne. "What?" she said innocently. "I just wanted to see if it was comfortable."

"It is, isn't it?" a booming voice laughed; Ocula hovered over Yzma.

"Your majesty!" Yzma replied, giggling nervously. "I was just – "

"Keeping my seat warm, were you?"

"Yes?"

"Run along," Ocula commanded, "before I stop seeing the humor in the situation. Unless you'd like to challenge me for the throne?"

"Not our intention," Yzma hurriedly said as she leapt up from the throne and followed Ravess and Snipe away from the thrones. "At least…not today," she muttered under her breath.

As Ocula sat down, Capercaillie hurried to the silver-and-gold throne. "Father!" he huffed, nearly out of breath. "You cannot allow the battle to go on!"

"And why is that, Capercaillie?" Ocula asked with suspicion.

"These people…I am more sure than ever that they mean to use the Leviathan Crystals for harm!" Capercaillie insisted. "We found the Storm Hawk Piper captive aboard their ship! They must be stopped and tried for their crimes now!"

"You know the law of the land, Capercaillie," Ocula reminded him. "What they do outside of the field does not affect the outcome of the battle."

"But Father!"

"You shall just have to hope that either Sora or Huginnmuninn prevails."

On the other side of the arena, Ruby, Papyrus, and Stork positioned Piper against a chair and looked out to the arena. Stork's attention was drawn up to the thrones, where Capercaillie pleaded with his father. "Well," he sighed, "looks like our plan of getting Ocula to call the fight off isn't gonna work."

"IT WON'T MATTER!" Papyrus said confidently. "SORA IS GOING TO PUT THE OTHER COMPETITORS IN THEIR PLACES! AND THOSE PLACES ARE FAR AWAY FROM THE LEVIATHAN CRYSTAL!"

"Here's hoping we're not just plain doomed," Stork groaned.

As the moon rose high into the sky, Ocula inserted the base of his spear into a socket in the arm of his throne, and the battlefield below began to change. Crystals lit up all around the arena, illuminating the space where the tussle was to take place. A circular platform gave way in the center of the arena, and a column rose from below the floor; a hemispherical crystal, layered and colored like a rose and surrounded by several smaller brethren of the same color, lay upon the column beneath a crystal dome.

Ocula brought a crystal-enhanced megaphone to his lips, and his voice boomed out over the arena: "TONIGHT, THREE WARRIORS CHALLENGE EACH OTHER FOR POSSESSION OF THE LEVIATHAN CRYSTAL! THE HUNTSMAN, OF A TERRA UNKNOWN! SORA, OF A TERRA UNKONWN! AND HUGINNMUNINN, OF TERRA VALHALLA! ONLY ONE SHALL WALK AWAY BEARING THE REWARD!"

Three doors set apart at equilateral distances in the arena walls opened up. From one, a heavily muscled man clad in mail shorts and epaulets, wielding a double-bladed axe that seemed half his size, strode forward. He fitted a bright red crystal to the base of the axe, and the blades suddenly lit up red, burning hot. Stork recognized this warrior's weapon as being powered by an Inferno Crystal: a rarity on the side of Atmos he came from, but something a little more common on this side. This was Huginnmuninn. His face spoke of grave confidence.

From the second door came the Huntsman, who had replaced the stone on the huntstaff with his traditional green gem.

"THAT'S HIM!" Ruby cried, pointing. "THAT'S THE SAME GUY!"

And finally, Sora walked coolly out onto the battlefield, Keyblade hoisted over his shoulder. As he approached the Huntsman and Huginnmuninn, his gaze became fixed upon the former. "Don't I know you?" he asked.

The Huntsman glared in response. "I recall you," he growled. "So you would challenge me for the crystal?"

"He challenges us both," Huginnmuninn stated, his voice a low rumble. "And you both challenge me, as I challenge both of you."

"WARRIORS AT THE READY!" Ocula's voice boomed.

Sora removed the Keyblade from his shoulder and took a fighting stance. The Huntsman braced himself with his staff. Huginnmuninn smacked the shaft of his axe into his hand.

"You could just give up now," Sora whispered to the Huntsman. "Save yourself the embarrassment."

"As you could walk away," the Huntsman replied. "You could spare your life that much longer."

"BEGIN!" Ocula yelled, and the entire audience erupted into cheers as the three warriors each made their first blows.

Huginnmuninn struck out at Sora, who deftly leapt backward. Sora cast the Keyblade out toward the Huntsman, letting it fly and spin toward its target; the Huntsman parried with his staff, sidestepping at the same time. The Huntsman then turned the point of his staff toward Huginnmuninn and charged; Huginnmuninn brought down his axe so that the point of the huntstaff clanked harmlessly off the flat of it, generating sparks. Huginnmuninn next swung his axe at the Huntsman, who dodged directly into the path of Sora casting a Blizzard spell; suddenly the Huntsman found one arm encased in ice. He transferred the huntstaff to the other arm and used it to strike the coating of ice away, melting it upon contact with his weapon. He fired off three blasts of green at Sora, who blocked each before taking a run at the Huntsman. Sora, however, found his course diverted when Huginnmuninn took another swing at him; he leapt onto the flat of Huginnmuninn's axe, propelling himself off the weapon and taking a flying leap at the Huntsman. Keyblade met huntstaff with such force that the Huntsman was sent skidding back a few feet before Sora vaulted over him, landing behind. Sora whirled to deal a blow directly to the Huntsman, but was stopped when Huginnmuninn's blade came down hard like a wall between them.

Ravess felt a light tap on her shoulder. She turned in the direction of the touch to see Yzma looking at her meaningfully.

"Yes?" Ravess said in confusion.

A small glass bottle went sliding into Ravess' lap.

The archer held it up. "One of your po – "

"Hm-hm." Yzma cut her off with a loud clearing of the throat. She then pantomimed lifting up a bow, drawing back the string, and letting an arrow fly.

"You want me to…fire an arrow," Ravess stated.

Yzma made a motion as though she were dipping something into something else.

Snipe leaned over to see what the fuss was about. "Wha? You want me to bring back pretzels and hot sauce?"

After giving herself a hearty smack on the forehead, Yzma removed an arrow from Ravess' quiver, uncorked the bottle of potion she'd handed over, and dipped the arrow tip in the transformation serum before handing the newly poisoned arrow back over to Ravess.

"Ohhhhhhh," Ravess realized.

"Though I'll take a rain check on those pretzels," Yzma told Snipe.

Ravess fitted the arrow to her bow, drew back, and let loose. The arrow sailed downward, into the battlefield, until it pierced its intended target. Huginnmuninn had only enough time to remove the arrow from the flesh of his back and look at it curiously before he was suddenly gone.

A cry of horror went up through the crowd. "CHEATING!" Capercaillie cried, getting to his feet. "ONE SIDE IS CHEATING!"

Ocula put a hand on his son's shoulder. "Sit down, Capercaillie."

"But, Father! One side had help from the audience! And I'm sure I know who!"

"We shall see how the battle plays out," Ocula stated harshly, his single eye fixed on the arena.

"Father!"

"Knowing when to cheat is merely one of the strategies of battle, Capercaillie."

"What's going on?" a high, tinny voice squeaked from the floor of the arena. The Huntsman and Sora both looked down to see a tiny salamander, albeit a well-built one.

"Are you…?" Sora began.

"I am Huginnmuninn!" the salamander squeaked. "Champion of Terra Valhalla! And I demand to know what has happened to me!"

Before Sora could answer, the Huntsman raised his boot, intending to bring it down hard on Huginnmuninn.

"NO!" Sora dove, scooping the transfigured warrior into his hands and sliding onto the floor. The Huntsman's foot planted into his midsection. Sora gave a toss with both hands, and Huginnmuninn went scurrying across the arena until he was out of sight.

"You FOOL!" the Huntsman roared, dealing a second kick that sent Sora rolling. "No matter. The champion is still defeated. That leaves only you in my way."

Sora scrambled to his feet, bracing his blade. "ONLY me, huh? You're gonna eat THOSE words!"

"WHAT JUST HAPPENED?" Papyrus wondered out loud.

"I dunno!" Ruby replied worriedly. "One minute, that other guy was there, and now he's not!"

"Someone fired an arrow at him," Stork muttered, tracing the visual trajectory of the arrow back into the audience. "And I know exactly where that arrow came…oh. Ohhhhhhhh, this is not good."

"What is it?" Ruby whimpered. "WHAT IS IT?"

"We have, uh, two rogue ex-Cyclonians in the audience," Stork identified. "Ravess and Snipe. And I think we can all guess who they're helping."

Sora and the Huntsman glared daggers at each other for a moment. Then they rushed, blades swinging hard at each other.

Those blades never met, because at that moment, all hell broke loose.

A column of green flames erupted from the arena floor right between Sora and the Huntsman. When it subsided, it left two people standing in its wake: one facing Sora and one facing the Huntsman.

"I hear you've been going around invoking the name of Cyclonia in petty robberies," Cyclonis taunted the Huntsman, twirling her staff in a hand.

"So we meet again, Keybearer," Maleficent told Sora with a smirk.

"MALEFICENT!" Sora tightened his grip on his blade.

"I don't see what business it is of yours," the Huntsman told Cyclonis coolly.

"As the Master of Cyclonia," Cyclonis replied, "I take claims about my kingdom VERY seriously. However, I'm not here to make small talk with you. I'm here for – "

At the sight of Maleficent, Stork had nearly overflowed with anger and hatred. He vaulted over the side of the seating area, dropping down into the arena proper, landing on all fours to absorb the shock. And once he had gone, Ruby and Papyrus immediately deemed it necessary to follow, leaping into the ring after him. The sudden appearance of the trio cut Cyclonis off. "Well, well," she said with a grin. "If it isn't Stork. I thought I fried you with the rest of the Storm Hawks."

"You," Stork seethed. He extended an arm, pointing dramatically at Cyclonis. "YOU'RE GOING DOWN!"

"Fret not over this peasantry," Maleficent told Cyclonis. "The Keybearer seems to make friends wherever he goes, and hardly ever are they less pathetic than he."

"HEY!" Sora rushed Maleficent, blade drawn back, only to be thrown back by a projectile of magical energy bigger than he was.

While Maleficent was distracted casting her spell toward Sora, Stork charged the pair. He leapt at Cyclonis, who watched him with a smile, not making a move. Suddenly, Stork's arms were seized from behind by a pair of Nightcrawlers. The audience now noticed the creatures crawling into the arena from all directions, some entering through Corridors of Darkness.

"LISTEN WELL!" Maleficent slammed her staff on the ground, sending a shockwave over the arena that caused all it hit to stagger. "You will surrender the Book of Prophecies and the Leviathan Crystal to me, or your Terra shall be destroyed!"

Ruby let off a volley of shots at one of the Nightcrawlers holding Stork back while Papyrus unleashed a barrage of bones at the other; Stork was quickly dropped, and Ruby and Papyrus hurried to flank him, keeping him guarded.

Ocula rose from his throne. "Though I know not this book you speak of, there is only one way for you to win the crystal you seek," he informed Maleficent through his megaphone. "As all others, you must win it through combat!"

"Father, isn't this ENOUGH?" Capercaillie moaned. "She's threatening destruction of all Terra Valhalla if she doesn't get her way!"

"You will not be taking the Leviathan Crystal this day," the Huntsman announced, striding closer to Cyclonis and Maleficent, his staff braced. "Either fairly or unfairly. That crystal belongs to me."

Maleficent turned to face him for the first time. "And what fool do you think you are to challenge me?"

Ravess, Snipe, and Yzma dropped into the arena to flank the Huntsman, their own weapons drawn. Maleficent's eyes sought out the place from whence they had jumped, and her gaze alit upon the still figure frozen where they had left him behind. At this sight, she began to laugh. All froze, watching her, wondering what had brought on this madness, until she explained; "Disciples of Mozenrath! You truly believe you can defeat me? Me, the Mistress of All Evil? Your leader is a fool and a sham! Look at him now, bound by magic, unable to move! Is this who you put your trust in to fight for you? Is this what you believe sets you apart from me?"

"And look who else went crawling to that sham the first chance they found someone to grovel to," Cyclonis taunted Ravess and Snipe.

"Like YOU'RE anything without US!" Snipe laughed. "Banishing us was the biggest mistake you ever made! We were the strongest warriors you had, and now you…now you…now you don't have us anymore! So HA!"

"Not QUITE true," Cyclonis corrected. "I had one warrior stronger than either of you. And now I'm allied with someone who has power even over death. Turns out Maleficent can bring back anyone she wants. I'd ask you to do the math, but we all know you're not smart enough."

"So, uh…" Snipe tried to work it out. "You had one guy that was stronger than either of us…"

"Why, that could only be the Dark Ace," Ravess presumed.

"And we never found out what happened to him," Snipe went on. "But now you've teamed up with somebody who can bring people back from the dead, and THAT means…and THAT means…"

The Huntsman and Yzma had it worked out immediately. However, they weren't the ones to inform Snipe of the conclusion to the puzzle. A new Corridor of Darkness opened up next to Maleficent and Cyclonis, and a tall, broad-chested figure came striding through.

"It means," the Dark Ace stated, "this battle is already over. We've won." He drew his long, broad sword from his back, letting it glow with inferno power. "Unless you're fool enough to challenge us."

"STORK?" Papyrus asked. "DO YOU KNOW THIS 'DARK ACE' PERSON?"

"Yes," Stork squeaked.

"AND HOW MUCH MORE TROUBLE ARE WE IN?"

"If King Ocula decided to hold a memorial service for us now, it wouldn't be that presumptuous."

"Wait a minute!" Sora had regained his bearings, running back toward the assembled villains. "You're not all…working together?" His eyes flicked between Maleficent and the Huntsman.

Maleficent gestured back to the Huntsman, Ravess, Snipe, and Yzma. "What you see before you is a collection of petulant fools," she informed Sora. "The most they've been good for is keeping you at bay."

"Ohhhh, as if YOU'RE so great," Yzma barked. "So far, we've beaten you and your henchmen…and henchwomen…at every turn!"

"Shall we settle this?" Maleficent asked. "The old fool wishes to see us fight for the crystal. Perhaps it is the only way for you to see how outmatched you truly are! NIGHTCRAWLERS! Bring me the Book of Prophecies by whatever means necessary!"

At Maleficent's command, the Nightcrawlers went wild, attacking whomever was unlucky enough to be in their way. Capercaillie and Ocula both leapt into action, drawing their weapons and surging toward the first Nightcrawlers they saw. Whatever Ocula's feelings about the combat ring, he held fast to the belief that the fight should take place completely within it and not spill over to harm the innocents who had gathered to watch. Capercaillie swung at a Nightcrawler's head with his hammer while his father struck out with his spear. Several Nightcrawlers attempted to enter the arena to assist Maleficent, Cyclonis, and the Dark Ace, but as they tried to spill in, they were picked off one by one by Ravess' sharp aim.

An unspoken agreement passed between all three factions that they were to battle for the Leviathan Crystal. Sora charged from one direction. Snipe and Yzma rushed in from another. Cyclonis and the Dark Ace surged from the third. Stork, Papyrus, and Ruby charged in from the fourth.

Maleficent, however, stayed rooted in place. She watched Stork leap over the heads of his allies to get closer to her, murder in his eyes. She watched Stork skid to a halt as more bright lime-tinted flames surrounded her and her shape began to stretch taller and wider. She watched Stork freeze in place, horror-stricken, far below her gaze, as she completed her transformation into a humongous ebony dragon. She watched Stork turn and run the other way at top speed once he realized how much he'd underestimated his enemy.

But she did not overhear the Huntsman, who observed this transformation, muttering, "You've just made your first mistake…dragon." He charged at Maleficent at full speed, knowing the first tactic she would use would be to try her fire breath. She noticed him coming, and opened her maw, shooting a beam of green heat; the Huntsman dodged this, plunging his blade into her foreleg. Maleficent responded by turning and leaping so fast that the huntstaff dislodged from her skin immediately, turning a 360 and hoping to knock the Huntsman over with her tail; the Huntsman jumped over it effortlessly. Spinning back around to face the Huntsman, Maleficent struck like a cobra, hoping to snap him up between her fanged jaws. The Huntsman took the opportunity to leap onto her head, aiming his staff for her neck; Maleficent quickly twisted and flung the Huntsman against the arena wall. He shook the impact off and went back for more.

Snipe had trouble picking his first target, but once he realized one of them was a walking, talking skeleton, he realized that one would probably be the most fun to crush; bones would fly everywhere! He rushed Papyrus, mace held high, but as he brought the mace down, it was halted by a wall of bones. Papyrus conjured up several more bone projectiles to send at Snipe, absolutely pummeling him. Snipe, however, was as a brick wall: largely unaffected. He took another swing with his mace only to meet another shield of bone. Even if Papyrus couldn't land a blow on offense, he was putting up quite a good defense.

The Dark Ace, on the other hand, went for Ruby. "What's this?" he laughed. "A little girl? I'm tired of children who think they're stronger than me."

His blade swung through the air and was immediately caught in the curve of Crescent Rose. "And I'm getting pretty tired of bullies," Ruby told him. Their blades parted, then met again and again in a shower of sparks.

Cyclonis, on the other hand, had engaged in battle with Sora, her staff clashing against his Keyblade. "You can still give up," she told him. "Let us have the Leviathan Crystal and the Book of Prophecies, and we will let the people of this Terra live."

"They don't have the Book of Prophecies!" Sora reminded Cyclonis. "The king didn't know what you were talking about!"

"Whether or not he does have it," Cyclonis commented as she spun her staff around for another blow, "we've already searched most of this side of Atmos for it and destroyed nearly every Terra. If he doesn't give us the book, we'll just be forced to tear down this one too before we move on to the other side."

Her words chilled Sora, and even though he didn't know the finer details of the search of the Book of Prophecies, he knew he had to do something, say something, if he wanted the destruction to end. "He can't give you the book!" Sora insisted as he blocked Cyclonis' next blow and went in for one of his own.

"Because he doesn't have it?" Cyclonis mocked as she parried.

"Yeah!" Sora insisted. "He doesn't know where it is. But I do!"

"What?" Cyclonis spat.

"And I've hidden it somewhere far away in all the worlds, where you'll never find it!" Sora taunted.

"You're bluffing!" Cyclonis hissed.

"Only one way for you to find out!" Sora told her. "Beat me, and we'll talk!"

Gritting her teeth, Cyclonis turned the staff on Sora to fire a beam of energy at him. Sora merely cast Reflega, turning the energy of the staff back out toward Cyclonis in a burst of light; the young Master was sent toppling.

"Not as easy as it looks, is it?" Sora laughed.

In all the chaos, everyone seemed to have forgotten about Yzma, who had taken cover behind Ravess as the archer took down any Nightcrawler that got too brave. Her atlatl was still loaded with a dart, and that dart was tipped with a nasty potion. As the battles before her raged, Yzma sought out a worthy target. Ruby and the Dark Ace continued their clash nearby, and Yzma already decided she didn't like either of them. She tapped Ravess on the shoulder; "Got a coin?"

"Why do you want a COIN?" Ravess shrieked, not taking her eyes off her next target.

"Oh, forget it, I'm sure I have one on me somewhere." Yzma sought out a pocket sewn into her dress for just the occasion of carrying loose change. Sure enough, there was a single quarter there. She set down the atlatl for a moment to give it a toss; "Heads, the girl; tails, the pretty boy!"

The coin descended, and Yzma smacked it down on the back of her hand. Uncovering it, she nodded at the result. "Heads it is."

As Stork hurtled away from Maleficent, Yzma caught the corner of his eye. He saw her loading up her weapon and aiming it. From where he stood, he couldn't tell if he was going for Ruby or the Dark Ace. One of those, he wouldn't have minded at all, but the thought of the other…

"RUBY!" he cried, adjusting his course. "NOOOOOOOOO!"

"WHAT?" Ruby turned to see Stork making his way toward her as quickly as he could. She ducked backward just in time for the Dark Ace's sword to miss cutting into her face by a hair's breadth; she could feel the heat radiating from the blade.

Yzma let the dart fly.

And suddenly, in between the dart and Yzma's target, there was Stork, reaching for the projectile, grabbing the dart by the shaft but not before it pierced the skin of his stomach. He let out a yelp and hit the ground.

Then he disappeared entirely.

"STORK!" Ruby cried in horror. She spun in circles and circles with Crescent Rose, using the back of it to knock the Dark Ace across the arena. She then rushed to the place where she'd last seen Stork, looking around for some sign of him: "Oh, no, nononononono, PLEASE don't be gone, please don't be GONE!"

"I'm FINE!" a small voice piped up near Ruby's ear. "Just KEEP YOUR EYE ON THE FIELD!"

"Huh?" Ruby turned to see a small green bat flapping furiously in the air near her head. "Um…Stork? Is that…"

"I'm a bat now," Stork sighed. "I don't know how. And right now, I don't CARE. Just DO NOT let the Dark Ace get a sneak attack on you!"

"Right!" Ruby nodded. "Stay by me! I'll protect you!"

The Dark Ace rebounded, taking a run at Ruby; she opened fire on him, slowing him down.

The Nightcrawlers were learning the hard way that an attack on Terra Valhalla was unlike an attack on any other Terra they had experienced so far. The citizens were imbued in a culture of battle, even moreso than your average denizen of Atmos, Nearly every one of them had carried a weapon, and as they were attacked, they fought back. And they were winning, especially with Capercaillie and Ocula throwing their forces into the ring, so to speak. However, it didn't take them long to find one of the few people in the audience unable to defend themselves. As soon as they realized Mozenrath wasn't moving and in fact couldn't move, several of the Nightcrawlers pitched him headfirst over the edge of the arena, watching eagerly for the carnage that would ensue when he hit ground.

It wasn't until after Mozenrath had thrown out his hand to halt his descent, stalling himself in midair, that he realized he had gotten his mobility back. Making a careful flip down onto the field of chaos, he made a beeline for the dome containing the Leviathan Crystal. After all, that was why they were there in the first place.

Having sent Cyclonis flying across the field, Sora spotted Mozenrath, skidding in between him and the crystal. "Hold it right there!"

Mozenrath was faced with a conundrum. He knew he wasn't a match for Sora; that much remained in his memory from their brief encounter in Radiant Garden. However, he wasn't about to turn tail and run because of it. At least not empty-handed. "You should really run along home and leave this to the grown-ups," he sighed.

"Not a chance!" Sora snapped. "I'm not letting you take this crystal!"

"You just HAVE to be a constant thorn in my side, don't you, Sora?" Mozenrath groaned.

"How do you know my name?" Sora was caught off guard. "Who ARE you, anyway?"

"You should probably know at this point," Mozenrath said with a grin, spreading his arms wide. His entire body glowed with a blue aura as he made his introduction: "I am Mozenrath. Lord of the Black Sands, scourge of the Seven Deserts, and soon to be ruler of all the worlds that are!"

"Seven Deserts?" Sora repeated. Why did that sound familiar?

He didn't have much time to think on it before Mozenrath charged up a bolt of magic and lobbed it directly at Sora. Sora attempted to Reflect it back, but Mozenrath was quick to teleport, zapping in behind Sora. Cyclonis, running at Sora for another attack, caught the brunt of the Reflected blow. Mozenrath charged his fist with magic, using it to smash through the crystal dome and levitate the Leviathan Crystals from their home setting.

No sooner had he done so than he was blasted off his feet. He wasn't the only one to have regained mobility. When Mozenrath got his bearings, he saw Piper, clutching two of the smaller Leviathan Crystals, standing over him. "Don't you dare!" she barked.

Mozenrath actually laughed. "You again. You just don't know when to give up, do you?"

"I beat you once," Piper reminded him. "I can do it again!" She aimed the crystals at where the sorcerer lay.

But then he was gone, having teleported behind her. "One problem with that," he told her. "I know your tricks now."

His next blow sent Piper tumbling across the arena. She was quick to rebound, weighing the crystals in her hands. She remembered what they could do when in the hands of Cyclonis. Perhaps it was time to let out a bit of their darker nature.

Mozenrath had gone back to trying to levitate the larger crystal; Piper ran at him with hands extended and crystals pointed outward. Two silhouetted serpentine monsters extended from the stones, snapping their jaws at Mozenrath. One caught each of his upper arms, and they dragged him down and back, causing him to let go of the large crystal once more. A single blow from the gauntlet severed the necks of the semi-holographic creatures, and Mozenrath rolled around into a standing position, sending a shower of sparks over Piper's head. Piper ducked and rolled before getting up for another shot.

The Huntsman was still locked in a fierce battle with Maleficent. When next she tried to roast him, he was able to block it with a deflection shield conjured from the green gem of his huntstaff. When she swiped at him with her ferocious claws, he deftly rolled away, managing to dig the point of his spear into some other part of her body. Maleficent was becoming more and more aggravated. This was obviously a man who had spent much time around dragons and learned to counter all of their attacks. Perhaps, she thought, she was better off taking another form.

But the thought came too late. When Yzma had transformed Huginnmuninn, he had left his enormous axe behind, and it lay blazing on the ground where warrior had become salamander. The Huntsman, seized with a flash of inspiration, dove for the axe, hefting it up with all of his strength – he realized then just how much more weight Huginnmuninn was able to carry than he was, for the axe was quite difficult to lift. Red-hot energy coursed through its blades. The Huntsman spun in a circle once, twice before letting the weapon fly.

Unlike the sword of Prince Philip that had sent Maleficent to her doom so long ago, the axe of Huginnmuninn was not blessed by faerie magic. It was, however, sharp and superheated. When it struck Maleficent in the chest, she knew the wound would not be fatal; all the same, it elicited a scream of utter pain from her and caused her to stumble, quickly changing form back into a humanoid woman. Her staff materialized in her hand, and she attempted to raise it against the Huntsman only to be forced down by her many wounds, using the staff as a crutch to keep herself propped up.

Around this time, Sora had become fed up with Cyclonis' constant attacks. "All right!" he resolved. "Time to get some real firepower in here!" He dug into a pants pocket until he found a small medallion. Raising the Summon Gem high, he cried out, "I could use a little help here!"

The Summon Gem tugged at the aura of one who was far away; several worlds away, in fact. As soon as he felt the pull of the gem, he knew he was needed by Sora, and he was all too happy to oblige. In a cloud of bright blue smoke, he appeared, floating over the battlefield: big, blue, and lighter than air.

"What is THAT?" Cyclonis growled.

"Just your friendly neighborhood semi-phenomenal nearly-cosmic Genie!" the newcomer introduced himself.

The familiar voice startled Mozenrath. "The Genie?" As he turned his head to look, he opened himself up to a hard blow from Piper's crystals.

"Genie!" Sora greeted. "Good to see you!"

"Thanks for inviting me to the party," Genie replied, "though something tells me you didn't give HER an invitation. How many uninvited guests are we talkin' here?"

"Start with her!" Sora suggested.

Ruby leapt back in between Sora, Genie, and Cyclonis, fending off another blow from the Dark Ace. The Dark Ace swung his blade once again, and Ruby sped to the side. Stork clung to her shoulder all the while.

"And while you're at it, that guy with the huge sword!" Sora added.

"One fireworks show, comin' up!" Genie made a show of pretending to roll up his sleeves.

"Will you start making SENSE?" Cyclonis spat.

Genie extended a hand toward her and a hand toward the Dark Ace, and a barrage of fireworks and rockets hurtled toward each, catching the two Cyclonians up in a wave of colorful explosions. Ruby and Stork fell in line next to Sora, and they watched the pyrotechnic display throw their foes about. When the fireworks dissipated, Cyclonis and the Dark Ace were removed of all of their energy, lying on the floor and refusing to get up for their bruises and burns.

Maleficent locked eyes with Sora. "This is not over," she said coldly before columns of green flame enveloped her, Cyclonis, and the Dark Ace, taking all three away.

"Summon gem's almost out of time!" Genie told Sora. "Not to mention I think I left the oven on. Anything else before I go?"

"Nah," Sora replied. "We should be able to handle the rest of 'em on our own!"

"They all look like pushovers to me anyway!" Genie remarked, surveying the field…and then he saw the all-too-familiar face. "EXCEPT THAT ONE!" He pointed in fear at Mozenrath.

Mozenrath would have responded, but Piper was putting up a strong offense, and he had to put all of his focus into not ending up paralyzed a second time. Given the desperation of the situation, all he could think of to say was "HOW ARE YOU HERE?"

"Don't tell Mozenrath anything!" Genie cautioned Sora. "He'll find a way to use it against you! Especially if it involves anything magical!"

"You KNOW him?" Sora asked. "Who is he? What's his deal?"

"He's one of Aladdin's strongest archenemies!" Genie asserted. "He – uh-oh. Summon time's up! Gotta go!"

The gem dismissed Genie back to his homeworld. Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, and Piper reconvened in the middle of the arena, with Stork fluttering worriedly in the midst of them. Snipe, Ravess, Yzma, the Huntsman, and Mozenrath closed in from around.

"We await your orders," the Huntsman told Mozenrath.

For a moment, Mozenrath considered giving the command to strike out of sheer pride. But then he really sized up what they were going up against. Piper and Sora had each bested him on their own in the past. Ruby had been part of the Huntsman's humiliation. Papyrus was pretty tough as well. And there was another reason they'd come to this arena in the first place. The order he gave was "They're not worth it."

He called the Leviathan Crystal over to him with a magical tractor beam, then cast a Corridor of Darkness that led back to the abandoned Cyclonian warship. He threw the crystal through, following it and letting the Huntsman, Yzma, Ravess, and Snipe follow before the corridor closed.

"HEY!" Ruby cried. "GET BACK HERE!"

"They got away again!" Sora swung a fist in disappointment.

"At least they're not bothering us anymore?" Piper pointed out.

Papyrus looked around at the audience section of the arena. Most of the Nightcrawlers had been beaten back by the Valhallans, but all the same, he wondered out loud, "MAYBE WE SHOULD GO CHECK ON THE REST OF THE TERRA?"

"Good idea," Sora said with a nod.

The small band of heroes charged out of the arena.


	26. The Spoils of the Sky

26\. The Spoils of the Sky

Once Mozenrath, the Huntsman, Yzma, Ravess, and Snipe had returned to the warship, Vexen, pleased to see the haul they'd brought home, set about hooking the crystal up to the engine and tinkering with the onboard weapons systems while the aforementioned traded stories with Wuya, Roman, and Snatcher, comparing who had taken on the more fearsome opponent. After a while, conversation tapered off, and the group waited impatiently for Vexen to finish his work.

Mozenrath separated himself from the crowd, leaning against a wall with one foot propped against it, staring up at the ceiling. The Huntsman could tell there was something wrong with him from his posture and his utterly disgusted expression. He crossed the room toward the young sorcerer; "Are you not satisfied with the day's victory?"

"Don't act like you don't think I should have stayed and fought Sora into submission," Mozenrath snapped, refusing to meet the Huntsman's gaze. "I know perfectly well I made the wrong move."

"I saw it as a tactical retreat," the Huntsman told Mozenrath. "The act of which is often necessary to self-preservation."

"We could have been rid of them once and for all," Mozenrath growled. "Why didn't I give the order to DESTROY them?"

"To keep us all from being killed or falling into enemy custody," the Huntsman told him. "What would have become of our plans with that many of us out of commission?"

"THEY ARE NOT STRONGER THAN US."

Mozenrath and the Huntsman both knew that wasn't true. But Mozenrath was having a hard time accepting the truth, even though it had echoed plain as day to him when he had been faced with the choice of taking the crystal and running or remaining to finish the fight. The Huntsman found himself at a loss for words; he could either lie or start a fight with Mozenrath, and neither choice seemed particularly appetizing.

"One day," Mozenrath vowed, "we'll destroy them all. We just need the right power."

"I trust in you to find that power," the Huntsman stated, and this was honesty.

Mozenrath forced himself to breathe deeply. "Right now, they don't matter. They are low-priority. We have the crystal. That puts us that much closer to the Aurora Stone shards, which we should be able to easily take by storm, if you'll pardon the pun. And, to top it all off, we finally live in a base where we all have separate bathrooms. All in all…this trip has been a success." He lowered his gaze, now giving the Huntsman a sly smirk. "And you didn't want to go."

"I now see I spoke in error," the Huntsman relented. "Provided, of course, that no one has taken possession of the Twilight Town manor and undone all of the work we've put in so far."

"You actually pulled more than your share of the weight on this trip," Mozenrath went on. "Color me impressed. You really do take your loyalty seriously, don't you?"  
The Huntsman merely bowed his head once.

"Don't think it goes unappreciated," Mozenrath stated. Speaking with the Huntsman had made him feel a little better already.

Vexen returned from the basements covered in a slight layer of grime. "The engine is running," he stated, "and all weapons systems should be online. We can begin moving in on the location of the Aurora Stone whenever you're ready."

"Well, then…" Mozenrath stepped forward, gesturing to the controls, feeling both confidence and a little bit of trepidation in his next statement. "Roman Torchwick, would you like to do the honors?"

"Are you sure that's a good – " Yzma began.

"Why, thank you!" Roman interrupted, striding toward the control panel. "As a matter of fact, I'd LOVE to! Though there are an awful lot of buttons and levers here for just one man. Archie? Mind giving me a hand here?"

Snatcher stepped alongside Roman at the control panel. "I would be honored, Torchwick."

"Mozenrath," the Huntsman stated, an edge of uncertainty creeping into his voice. "I've heard tales of their misadventures driving a simple car in Knightdock. Letting those two pilot our entire base may be a grave mistake."

"An airship is not a car," Mozenrath reminded the Huntsman. "Those two have experience piloting larger things from their homeworlds, and they're the best we've got for the job. Besides, at this point, we're not playing the subtlety angle anymore." He crossed the room, passing the pair of increasingly giddy pilots, and bade them "Do your worst."

Snatcher threw one of the levers, and the engine roared to life; the entire warship hummed. Roman activated a panel, and a holographic feed of the ship's surroundings flickered into view as a dashboard window of sorts.

"And here we go," Roman muttered.

"Before we take off," Vexen stated, "I have a little…gift for whoever chooses to man the four turret guns. There are currently guns placed at twelve o'clock, three o'clock, six o'clock, and nine o'clock." He opened his hand to reveal a quartet of tiny gadgets. "These earpieces will allow you to converse with each other."

"One question," Yzma replied.

"Yes?"

"What does 'twelve o'clock' mean?"

"Imagine we're in the center of a clock," Wuya told Yzma.

"Yes," Yzma hissed, "but what is a CLOCK?"

"I was wondering the same thing," Mozenrath admitted.

"You've never seen a CLOCK before?" Wuya's jaw dropped. "All right. We're starting over. Imagine a compass. One of the turret guns points North – "

"How does a COMPASS show you which way is North?" Mozenrath asked, even more baffled.

"Not the sort for drawing," Snatcher told him. "The sort that…well, it resembles a circle with four points."

"You're all impossible!" Vexen huffed. "The point is that there are FOUR turret guns located on the main tower, and all are at equidistant points from each other!"

There was a pause of understanding and a shared "Ohhhhhhhhhh." Then Yzma, Wuya, Snipe, and Ravess all yelled "DIBS!" and made a break for the upper floors to find said turret guns.

"Okay, are we ready NOW?" Roman sighed after waiting.

"Twelve o'clock, reporting in." Wuya's voice came through a speaker on the dashboard.

"Three o'clock, reporting in," Ravess echoed.

"Hey, I'm three o'clock!" Snipe snapped.

"I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT ANY OF YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT!" Yzma hissed. "But I am seated at the gun and ready to shoot things."

"And here we go for real." Roman's grin spread from ear to ear.

"From here on out," Mozenrath remarked, "it's going to be smooth – "

The battleship shot upward and outward at such a velocity that Mozenrath, Vexen, and the Huntsman were flung against the back wall of the chamber.

"I already have regrets," Mozenrath muttered.

The warship careened through the air until the first Terra came into sight on the holographic display. "If it isn't that overbearingly charming amusement park," Snatcher remarked.

"You take us down and I'll take us over," Roman commanded. "You hear that, snipers? Soon as you see something you can fire at, fire."

"Ohhhhhhhh, I like that idea," Yzma cackled.

The residents of Terra Neon were traumatized to once again see the Cyclonian warship looming high over their skies, then plummeting to crash into the rollercoasters they'd only just built to replace the ones that had been lost in the last attack. Yzma, Wuya, Ravess, and Snipe set off a barrage of elemental ammunition, raining fiery chaos down upon every carnival game and food stand.

"Great work, team!" Roman congratulated. "But we're just getting this party started."

The next Terra to come in sight was Terra Gale, a very small landmass with only a few buildings to speak of. "Oh, this is almost too pathetic to even bother," Roman sighed. "Still…let's see what THIS button does."

An external cannon obliterated much of the civilization of Terra Gale in one shot.

"Well destroyed, Torchwick!" Snatcher congratulated gleefully.

A change in course sent Mozenrath, Vexen, and the Huntsman rocketing into a different wall.

"Hey, Archie," Roman said as Terra Saharr loomed on the horizon. "Do me a favor and find out what THAT lever does." He pointed to a particularly tantalizing implement on the dashboard.

Once the warship was in place over Terra Saharr, Snatcher threw the lever. Several bombs dropped from the base of the warship, colliding hard and exploding in a great radius over the Terra as its civilians rushed for cover.

Roman let out a great whoop of joy as Snatcher laughed loudly. The two continued to press buttons and pull levers as they went from Terra to Terra, and the four turret gunners continued their work as well, letting out the occasional "YEAH!" over the intercom.

"I admit it," Vexen grunted as he finally regained his footing and stormed up to Snatcher. "I see what it is that draws you to HIM."

"You've finally figured out his worth?" Snatcher replied as he threw another lever to send the ship crashing into Terra Glockenchime, destroying the Timepulse that rested within its tower.

"NO!" Vexen barked. "I only see what YOU see in him! Because as much as you put up a front of being civilized and rational, the truth is, you're EXACTLY AS INSANE AS HIM!"

The next surge forward sent Vexen colliding with yet another wall. "Hand must've slipped!" Snatcher called back to him.

Mozenrath finally conjured a sphere in the air that kept himself, the Huntsman, and Vexen fixed in place in the center of the chamber.

Depth charges were unleased into Terra Aquanos. Terra Nord's frozen climate was set on fire. Yzma made a game out of fixing her sight on tiny animal targets on Terra Fauna and seeing how accurately she could gun them down. Finally, the prime target was visible.

"Terra Atmosia," Mozenrath announced. "Obliterate as much as you want around the edges, but leave the tower standing. Vexen, Huntsman…prepare to deploy."

"Almost a shame we haven't left any sign of our identity," Snatcher remarked as he brought the warship down to Terra Atmosia's level. "Seems we'd want them to know who exactly brought this much destruction upon them. Become feared and thereby respected."

"Eh, once we're famous for bringing the rest of the worlds to their knees, they'll figure it out," Roman pointed out.

The warship loomed in close to the tower that spiked upward from the center of the Terra. Most of the peacekeeping forces present had rushed to the outer ridges of the kingdom, where weapons of mass destruction had set homes and businesses ablaze, but guards still remained in the tower, suspecting this was somehow related to the Aurora Stone.

Mozenrath cast the Corridor as soon as a clear spot of ground was visible, stepping out in front of the tower doors with the Huntsman and Vexen at his sides.

"HALT!" Two guards crossed pollaxes in front of the doors. "State your business!"

"My business?" Mozenrath replied, putting on an innocent face. "It's none of yours."

He waved a hand, and both guards rocketed in opposite directions, propelled by blue forcefields of magic. The Huntsman slashed open the door, and once the trio passed through, Vexen sealed the archway behind them with a thick layer of ice that spiked outward.

At the top of the tower, the shards rested upon a pillar, gleaming with an almost unearthly luminescence. Mozenrath called them into his palm, seizing them, clasping the gauntlet's fingers over the sharp edges. As soon as the shards were removed from the pillar, a distinct difference came over the Terra. The previously clear blue skies darkened to nearly navy.

"A much preferable aesthetic to the previous garish colors of this world," Vexen remarked.

"Almost makes me want to set up base right here," Mozenrath added. "Almost."

"Will we be able to safely use a Corridor to get back to the base if Torchwick and Snatcher have kept it moving?" the Huntsman wondered out loud.

Mozenrath looked out the window at the warship, which was impossible to miss, filling up half the view as it dropped weapon upon weapon. "I have a good enough idea of where the central chamber of it is," he stated.

In very little time, a Corridor opened up in the center of the room where Snatcher and Roman were still laughing it up over the destruction they were leaving in their wake. Mozenrath, Vexen, and the Huntsman strode proudly inside, the former presenting the shards in his outstretched hand. "We have what we came for," he informed his pilots. "Now take us up and out."

"Sorry to burst your bubble," Roman told him, "but once we get out of the atmosphere, there isn't going to be any, y'know, air. Which we're going to kind of need. Well, except Corpsey, but he can't show up to the party if none of us are left alive to invite him."

"Just take us up and out," Mozenrath repeated. "I have a plan."

"A real plan, or an Yzma plan?"

"I can hear you, you know!" Yzma barked over the intercom.

"Up and out," Mozenrath said firmly.

The warship zoomed upward, to the relief of the Terra Atmosians, piercing the clouds and speeding into the depths of the sky. As it ascended, Mozenrath cast a wave of magic that radiated over the entire craft, surrounding it in an aura of breathable air that would never deplete. Insured by this, the ship plunged into the fathoms of space, leaving all of Atmos far behind.

"And with that," Mozenrath stated, "we have what we – "

A sharp pain in his right shoulder and a sudden weakness in his knees forced him to the floor. The shards of the Aurora Stone sparkled as they scattered out of his hand. Casting a spell of the magnitude of granting air to the entirety of what had once been Terra Cyclonia had taken a lot out of him, and the gauntlet was taking its payment, ripping flesh from bone at a slightly faster rate than normal.

Upon Mozenrath's collapse, the Huntsman dropped immediately to his knees, attempting to look the sorcerer in the eye. "Mozenrath! Are you all right?"

"I'm…fine," Mozenrath answered between ragged breaths, his eyes casting over the Aurora shards on the floor. He rode out a wave of dizziness until he felt comfortable lifting his head to meet the Huntsman's gaze. He was immediately struck with surprise by just how worried the man seemed to be, even discernible from beneath his headgear. Looking around, he noticed that Snatcher, Roman, and even Vexen were regarding him with expressions of genuine concern. "I mean it," Mozenrath asserted sternly, wasting no time in standing back up, overcome with sudden embarrassment over his lapse. "There is NOTHING wrong." He extended his right palm, flexed his fingers experimentally, then called the Aurora shards back into that hand, taking the use of magic slowly until he was sure he could expend energy in that manner again. He let a smile travel over his lips. "In fact, I'd say everything went exactly as we wanted it to."

His recovery and subsequent relaxation drove the concern from his peers. The Huntsman stood as well, acting as though he had no reason to have dropped. "Shall we recover the others?" he asked.

"I would hope Mim, Aghoul, and Neo would be back at the Twilight Town manor by now," Mozenrath mused. "I suppose I'll take it upon myself to let them know we have a new base of operations…and some new allies. Vexen, Huntsman, draw a new pattern on the floor, and place these accordingly." He passed the shards to the Huntsman. "I'll bring back the rest. Torchwick, don't move the ship until I can get back and establish a recall point. Snatcher, don't let him move the ship until I can get back and establish a recall point. And tell our four turret gun enthusiasts that they can start getting settled into our new home."

He turned away, looking at a blank wall, pausing for a moment, wondering if he was still too weakened from the excessive magic he'd used on the base to cast a Corridor without it rebounding. After brief pause, he shook away the fear and summoned the Corridor, striding through almost hurriedly.

"Okay, did he seem OFF to you guys?" Roman asked once the Corridor had closed.

"I wasn't the only one who noticed," Vexen sniffed.

"It's that gauntlet of his," the Huntsman theorized. "Making this craft hospitable in a space with no atmosphere would take a fair amount of magic, and we all know by this point what price he pays to pull off stunts like that."

"You…don't suppose he's at his limit in that regard?" Snatcher wondered, speaking gingerly.

"I shouldn't think so," the Huntsman stated. "He was able to get back to his feet and cast the Corridor. Though I suspect it will take him some time before he is able to muster up the magic to fix a recall point for the Darkness within this base."

"Well, whatever you do," Snatcher warned, "don't bring it up to him."

"Only a fool would," Vexen huffed.

"Back to business?" Roman suggested.

"Back to business," the Huntsman affirmed, already beginning to press the huntstaff against the floor and sear the required pattern for the conquest spell into the tile.

...

After the retreat of Maleficent, Cyclonis, and the Dark Ace, the Nightcrawlers that had overrun Terra Valhalla were easily sent packing. Even so, Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, Stork, and Piper stayed to survey the Terra for a while, making sure all was well. It also became apparent that Piper had yet to learn of her other comrade's survival, and so she was brought to the room where Finn still lay confined to his bed, accompanied by Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, and Stork.

"FINN!" Piper practically squealed. "You're okay!"

"And everyone's still surprised?" Finn teased.

"Though 'okay' might be a bit of an overstatement," Stork, still fluttering about in the shape of a tiny bat, pointed out.

"Well, everything hurts a little less than it did last time you checked in," Finn pointed out. "But it's real good to see you too, Piper."

"At least three of us made it out of that explosion," Piper mused. "I wonder."

"Everyone's been wondering about that," Ruby pointed out.

"HAVEN'T I BEEN SAYING THEY ALL SURVIVED FROM THE VERY BEGINNING?" Papyrus added. "I'VE BEEN PROVEN HALF RIGHT ALREADY!"

"At the very least, someone should go out and look to see if we can't be absolutely SURE what happened to Aerrow, Junko, and Radarr," Piper stated. "And I think that someone should be me."

"If anyone could find them, it'd be you," Finn told her. "You or Stork. But seeing as Stork is too tiny and adorable for that right now – "

"Really?" Stork sighed.

"Aw, come on!" Finn teased. "You're adorable and you know it!"

"You are kinda cute like that," Ruby added.

"Well, I'm probably stuck as a bat forever, so I might as well get used to it," Stork groaned.

"Actually, I think I might know who can fix you," Sora brought up. "You and Huginnmuninn, too. I'm sure if we just asked Merlin nicely, he'd be happy to. I should probably check back in at Radiant Garden anyway. He could come back here and turn you both back to normal!"

"Actually…" Stork replied, "I've been thinking it over, aaaaaaand…"

"You wanna go with them, don't you?" Piper asked with a smile.

"No offense," Stork told her.

"Hey, none taken," Piper replied. "I was just thinking it would be better if we split up anyway. I'll take care of looking for Aerrow, Junko, and Radarr, and you can go help figure out what's going on with all those villains that attacked us."

"So there are two different groups working against us," Ruby mused.

"I knew the 'Seven Deserts' sounded familiar," Sora realized. "Agrabah is part of the Seven Deserts! I have a friend who'll know exactly what this Mozenrath guy is all about! Okay. So first, we'll go back to Radiant Garden to talk to Merlin and get Stork turned back to normal. Then we can go to Agrabah to talk to Aladdin about what we're dealing with."

"THIS SOUNDS LIKE A PERFECT PLAN!" Papyrus commented. "IT'S FILLED WITH MANY ADVENTURES, SO IT MUST BE GOOD!"

"Sorry you can't drive yet," Ruby told Stork, lightly poking him.

"So long as we survive this trip," Stork replied. He then looked at Piper. "You're SURE you're okay with this."

"I'm happy you found some new friends," Piper said with a smile. "I'd go with you too, but for all we know, the rest of the Storm Hawks are out there and need someone to find them."

"I'll catch up to one of you soon enough," Finn vowed. "Soon as the casts come off."

"That…Maleficent that blew the Condor up is still out there," Stork muttered. "Oh, she's powerful, all right, but we'll find a way to make her pay for what she did."

"Yeah!" Sora agreed.

Papyrus wasn't so sure that was the best way to go about things, but he kept silent. He knew Stork's mind was made up.

"Speaking of the Condor," Ruby brought up, "I wonder if they're done with your ship."

"About THAT," Stork replied, and it took him a while to be able to spit out the next words: "Piper should take it."

"What?" Piper was taken aback. "But the Condor – "

"Won't be built for traveling between worlds," Stork reminded her. "Yeah, I'll miss her. Take good care of her for me, will you? She'll be brand new, so be gentle with her on her first time out."

Piper nodded. "She'll be right here waiting for you when you come home."

"The things and people that are most important to us always stay in our hearts, even when we're far away," Sora added. "Even if you're not WITH the Condor, you'll always be with the Condor!"

And even though it didn't seem to make sense on the surface, Stork found that was enough for him.

"There's just…one thing," Sora admitted. "I told Maleficent I knew where the Book of Prophecies was so that she would leave this world alone. That might make me a target, and being targeted by Maleficent is dangerous. If any of you want to stay back or go home, I wouldn't blame you."  
"Are you KIDDING?" Ruby replied. "I'm with you all the way! Bring it on!"

"IF IT'S TRULY THAT DANGEROUS, THEN YOU'LL NEED US TO HELP PROTECT YOU!" Papyrus said gleefully.

"And I was still looking for her anyway," Stork reminded Sora.

Sora put out a hand, palm down. "Together?"

Ruby and Papyrus each put a hand over his, and Stork contributed a wing. "Together!" they agreed.

...

After Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, and Stork had left to make their way to Radiant Garden, Piper located the garage where the new Condor was being built. There, she found Ocula and Capercaillie waiting for her, along with a man she recognized as King Petrel of Terra Lumina.

"Piper!" Capercaillie greeted. "I wish we had better news to greet you with…"

"What happened?" Piper asked.

"Petrel brings grave tidings," Ocula stated.

"I have heard that this Terra suffered a recent attack," Petrel explained. "Terra Lumina has suffered a similar attack by the same people, including Master Cyclonis."

"Good to know," Piper said with a nod.

"Are you going to get to the bottom of this?" Ocula asked.

"I'm going at it from one direction," Piper answered, "and someone I trust is going at it from another. We're gonna put things right."

"Piper!" an engineer greeted. "You're just in time! We've finished up specifications on the ship that Stork ordered!"

Piper was led to an exact copy of the Condor that had been destroyed. Piper ran her fingers over the hull, thinking that if nothing else, this was proof that the Condor itself had survived the attack, even if it had to get destroyed and rebuilt. Even though all of the parts were completely new, Piper could tell it still had the soul of the old Condor, and she knew Stork would agree.

"Where is Stork, anyway?" the engineer asked.

"He said I should take the ship out," Piper replied. "He found a ship that I think he's gonna have a little bit more fun playing with in the long run."

"Good luck on your journey, Piper," Capercaillie bade.

"Good luck to you, too," Piper told him.

She entered the new ship, crossing the cockpit to the steering wheel. The ceiling of the garage was opened up so she could initiate liftoff.

"I know you're out there," she muttered, thinking of Aerrow, Junko, and Radarr. "And I'm gonna find you."

The Condor sped away into the skies, and neither its pilot nor the passengers of the Gummi ship that had departed but moments earlier had any inkling of the waste laid to the other side of Atmos.

...

The royal Enchancian court gathered for a most special occasion. Sofia had been returned to the castle safely, and the search for her called off; she regaled anyone who would listen with the tale of how she had been abducted by the infamous Morgana le Fay and subsequently rescued by Cedric. This tale was met with disbelief at first; how could Cedric possibly have done something that required such bravery and skill? But Sofia was not known as a liar, and she insisted it was Cedric who get the credit for her rescue.

And so King Roland and Queen Miranda called a ceremony to award Cedric with high honors for his deed. Cedric stood before the royals in the throne room while the rest of the Enchancian court gathered round to watch; Cedric's heart began beating erratically. He wasn't used to this sort of praise.

"For bringing my daughter safely back to me," Roland stated, holding out a gold medallion on a long blue ribbon, "I hereby present you with this medal of honor. I cannot express enough how happy I am that Sofia is safe, Cedric."

Cedric bowed his head in what was for once honest respect, and Roland placed the medal over his shoulders.

"Henceforth, you shall be known as Cedric the Bold," Roland decided.

"Actually," Cedric interrupted, "I rather prefer a…different title."

"Oh?"

"Some have taken to calling me Cedric the Sensational…"

"Well, I would say you certainly deserve that!" Roland decreed. "Cedric the Sensational it is!"

As the room burst into applause, Cedric exchanged glances with Sofia. The princess gave him a wink, and he returned it. The medal was no Amulet of Avalor, but it would certainly do for now. He could always find another way to conquer the kingdom later. Much later. When he actually felt like it.

...

Back in the Radiant Garden library, Riku's motley team gathered to tally up the consequences of their bittersweet victory. Riku held his hand outward, trying to bid the Keyblade to come back to him, but it refused to appear. "They're keeping it hostage with magic," he sighed.

Kairi tried the same, with similar results. "I didn't even know it was POSSIBLE to steal a Keyblade."

"They have our wands, too," Nick reminded everyone.

Jaune, Nora, and Ren kept silent. They all knew their weapons were easily rebuilt. The others had lost irreplaceable objects.

"That doesn't matter," Madison asserted. "Necrolai and Leelee are safe now, and so is the whole Crystal Empire. We can figure out how to get our wands and the Keyblades back later."

"It's just too bad we never found that Even guy," Chip brought up, and there was a moment of silence. Many feared the worst: that they'd simply been too late.

Only Riku was suspicious. He still had vivid memories of Vexen tormenting him in the halls of Castle Oblivion. He wondered if anyone, including the other former members of the Organization, really remembered how cruel Vexen had been once upon a time. What if Hades had spoken the truth? What if Even had never fallen into the clutches of Maleficent's band, and he had simply left of his own volition?

He hoped that this was not the case. After hearing the news, Lea had been thrown into a haze of moping, and the rest of the Restoration Committee was occupied reassuring him that whatever had happened to Even, it wasn't his fault.

"We'll find some way to save him," Kairi resolved. "We have to."

"Were you close?" Riku asked.

"Hm?"

"You would have grown up around him," Riku realized. "Were you close to him?"

"I…wish I could remember," Kairi admitted. "I remember him being there. But not much else. I was just so young. I think I was closer to Ienzo, really. But even if I don't remember Even that much, that doesn't mean he wasn't important to me back then. And he's important to our friends now."

"I just hope he'll be there to save when we figure out how," Riku muttered quietly.

Luna turned to the five Mystic Rangers. "I suppose you wish to go to your homeworld now, Rangers. Cadance and I must make a trip back to our own, and we would be happy to bring you back."

"I don't know about everyone else, but…" Vida looked around at her companions.

"We can't just go home and leave this whole Maleficent thing alone," Nick added.

"Especially when we know so many other worlds might need us," Chip piped in.

"I think we should stay with Riku," Vida asserted.

"Me too," Madison agreed.

"Outside of us losing our wands, he hasn't led us wrong so far," Xander stated.

"Well, I DON'T want to stay here," Leelee said firmly. "I spent way too much time in the dungeon of an evil witch! I want to go back home!"

"And I'm not sure I'm cut out for all this adventurin'," Phineas pointed out. "Leelee's safe, and that's what's important."

"If my daughter and her love wish to return home," Necrolai stated, "then I wish to go there as well and watch over them. And besides that…there is someone else waiting for me."

"Then we shall take you three home before we bring the Crystal Heart to the Empire and return here," Luna decided. "The others shall stay."

"Will you tell Udonna, Leanbow, Daggeron, and Clare we say hi, and that we'll be a little later coming home than we thought?" Madison asked.

"I will," Leelee promised, and Phineas and Necrolai nodded.

"I will also let Toby know you can't make it to your shifts at the Rockporium for the time being," Necrolai added.

"Aw, man!" Leelee sighed. "This means I'm going to have to pick up all your slack and work overtime!"

"Wait." Riku picked up on something Luna had said. "Luna. You and Cadance are coming back here after you save the Empire?"

"We don't want to leave the evils that are plaguing these worlds unattended either," Cadance told him. "Something big is happening. Darkness is growing on all the worlds, and you seem like the best people to be with to stop it."

"Our world is still plunged into chaos," Luna pointed out, "but there are many heroes yet there who can hold it at bay if only for a short time, and my sister has proven herself adept at filling my horseshoes in the past. We want to do whatever we can to help Radiant Garden and every other world that has been affected. Including our own world, Remnant, and Briarwood."

"We are NEVER going to be able to make a team name acronym," Nora sighed. "Oh, well! The more, the merrier!"

"Thank you all," Riku said, "but I don't even know what our next move is going to be."

"We trust in you to figure something out," Luna told him confidently. "And we will be here to help you at every turn."

"Can we just go home already?" Leelee groaned. "I actually miss that dump of a town!"

"We shouldn't keep the Empire waiting, either," Cadance pointed out.

Luna cast a Corridor. "We shall meet again shortly," she promised. She, Cadance, Leelee, Phineas, and Necrolai entered, bearing the Crystal Heart.

Once the Corridor closed, Jaune asked, "So…what now?"

"Now," Riku suggested, "we have to figure out how to get our weapons back and find Even. But I wouldn't blame anybody if they wanted to take a break first. This might be the only time we have for a while where we're safe. After all…if we can invade Maleficent's castle, she can invade ours right back."

...

When Maleficent's faction regrouped, almost no one had good news to bring to the table. Maleficent, Cyclonis, the Dark Ace, Jafar, and Cinder reported that the Cyclonian warship had been lost to Mozenrath and his band of upstarts. Pete had no Amulet of Avalor to turn over, a loss yet again attributed to Mozenrath. And while Cruella, Grimhilde, Hades, and Ursula hadn't tangled with Mozenrath or any of his allies, they had still lost their hostages and the Crystal Heart. However, it was not all bad news. Maleficent had identified Sora as a new lead to the location of the Book of Prophecies, and even more importantly, Ursula had turned in the five mystic wands and two Keyblades.

That didn't stop Cruella from going off on a rant. "This is an outrage!" she roared. "An utter outrage! I'll have that Mozenrath turned into a dog and then skinned! I'll have his associates turned into kittens and, after that, into MITTENS! Why, if I had my associates on the job, we'd be rid of them once and for all within a week!"

"Of what 'associates' do you speak?" Maleficent asked, her interest piqued.

"A series of connections I've made throughout the worlds ever since you gave me the means to move between them," Cruella replied. "Like-minded people who have a way with weapons. And a few who are all but useless, but they do what they're told without question, and that somewhat makes up for it. The only problem is very few of them are versed in magic, but this can be worked around."

"I want you to contact these associates as soon as you are able and bring them into the fold," Maleficent commanded. "We shall see if they are worth the praise you give them."

"At once!" Cruella resolved energetically.

"In the meantime, we must determine how best to divulge the location of the Book of Prophecies from the young Keybearer," Maleficent mused. "Only the perfect bargaining chip must be obtained. Doubtless if we merely take an acquaintance of his hostage and arrange a trade, he will find a way to cheat us the way he did that fool Xemnas when the young princess was on the line. Besides…I have reason to believe she is no longer the most important person to him. And finally, there is the matter of Ursula's conquest. The weapons from Remnant mean very little to me; do with them what you see fit. The mystic wands are far more valuable. But the Keyblades we now have detained intrigue me most of all. I believe they could be put to good use."

"But none of us can wield a Keyblade," Pete pointed out.

He was silenced by a fiery glare from Maleficent, giving an audible gulp.

"There is a tale," Maleficent told the group at large, "some would say a mere children's story to be read to them in their beds, of a mighty and powerful wizard who wielded a Keyblade. He grew tired of his blade, and absorbed it into his very being, increasing his own magical power tenfold. Such a spell seems impossible, but I believe it is real, and I intend to discover it…especially since I have not one but two Keyblades. If I were to integrate them into my being…"

"Whoa, babe, you'd be unstoppable!" Hades finished.

"And for this, I commend Ursula," Maleficent continued. "If I didn't know better, I would say you arranged for our hostage situation to lead to an invasion purely to place the Keyblades into our hands."

"Who's to say I didn't?" Ursula chuckled.

"And how are you going to go about uncovering this mysterious spell?" Jafar asked.

"By seeking it in places that contain magical lore," Maleficent answered. "And I believe I know just where to begin."

Hades elbowed Cyclonis in the forearm. "Welcome to the club, kid."

Cyclonis grinned widely. "It seems this is exactly where I was meant to be."

...

The Crystal Heart was lowered into place on its pedestal. The moment it was returned, it glowed with a bright light, spinning faster and faster. The ponies watching were still largely on edge; the Plunderseeds were still working their twisted magic on most of Equestria. However, the return of the Crystal Heart put a great magical defense back in place around the Crystal Empire, and seeing it brought home safely caused a collective sigh of relief. This was enough to react with the gem, spewing an aurora of positive energy into the starry Equestrian skies.

"You're really going to go back?" Twilight asked Luna as they watched the multicolored lights.

"I am," Luna confirmed. "You will be all right without Cadance and myself. But if evil forces are rising that threaten all the worlds, we must join forces with our new friends to stop them."

"I'm not worried about us needing you," Twilight admitted. "I'm worried about you and the rest of the worlds needing us. We – I – should be out there too."

"This world needs you first and foremost," Luna insisted. "Have you yet found a way to combat the Plunderseeds?"

"…No," Twilight admitted. "All we can do is cut them down. They grow back."

"You will find the answer," Luna told Twilight. "I know it. And the time may come when we will need you on our adventure. When that time comes, Cadance and I will return for you."

"Thank you," Twilight said sincerely.

"For now," Luna told Twilight, "let us enjoy the sight of the heart's aurora. It is perhaps the biggest beacon of hope we have."

They watched the colors spread across the stars in silence.

...

Mozenrath arrived in the foyer of the Twilight Town mansion to find everything exactly as he'd left it. The moment he appeared, Xerxes came speeding around the corner, nearly colliding with him. "MOZENRATH!" he cried happily. "You're back!"

"Xerxes!" Mozenrath greeted. "I knew I was forgetting SOMETHING. Are Mim, Aghoul, and Neo back from whatever it was they were doing?"

Xerxes nodded. "Playing cards," he confirmed, pointing at the door to the lounge with the large table. "Brought home a new girl!"

"A new girl?" Mozenrath repeated.

He entered the room to see Mim, Aghoul, Neo, and Irmaplotz seated around the table, engaged in a lively game of euchre. As soon as he entered, Mim, Aghoul, and Irmaplotz's gazes turned up to view him. Neo's eyes flicked over to Aghoul's cards.

"Who are you?" Mozenrath asked Irmaplotz.

"Princess Irmaplotz," the girl replied. "Who are YOU?"

"I am Mozenrath," Mozenrath told her, "and if these three did what they should have, you should know all about me by now."

"I…expected you to be older," Irmaplotz admitted.

"Everyone does," Mozenrath sighed. "So how did you pick this one up?"

"Summoned by a magical amulet in time to defeat a minor nemesis," Mim explained.

"A MINOR nemesis?" Mozenrath repeated. "Odd choice of words."

"You had to be there," Aghoul told him.

"So I take it you accomplished…whatever it was you set out to do," Mozenrath stated.

Mim dangled the Amulet of Avalor in front of him. "Why don't you ask Morgana le Fay?"

"Who?"

"Exactly."

Mozenrath shook it off. "We'll get introductions out of the way later. My half of the team picked up a couple of warriors you'd be interested to meet, too. But, more importantly…you can say goodbye to this dump of a lair."

"Does that mean what I think it means?" Aghoul asked, already smiling.

"It means we now have a floating kingdom-sized warship with more onboard weaponry than you can count and enough bedrooms that Mim and Neo won't have to share anymore," Mozenrath stated.

"We weren't planning on sharing anyway," Mim explained. "She and Aghoul traded spots."

"You and Aghoul…" Mozenrath tried to put the pieces together.

"Will be sharing a room in the new base too," Aghoul clarified, putting an arm around Mim and planting a kiss on her cheek. She turned to meet his lips with hers, and they lingered there for a while.

"I do NOT need to see that," Mozenrath grumbled. "You do what you want. But you'd better have your things packed, because this mansion is obsolete as of now."

"Hang on!" Irmaplotz rushed to the bookshelves. "I thought I saw some poetry books in here, and I am NOT leaving those behind. NOT when there might be absolutely terrible gems I haven't found yet." She plucked several thick and rather dusty volumes from the shelves and stacked them in her arms.

Mim snapped her fingers, materializing her purse in her hand. "Ready to go!"

Aghoul snapped his fingers, and a briefcase stuffed full of bones appeared at his side. "Ready!"

Neo thought it over, looked at the parasol blade that leaned against the table, and nodded her assent.

Irmaplotz thudded the stack of heavy books onto the table. "Okay, I have everything."

"Just give me a few minutes to gather the elements we've collected for our spell so far, and I think that makes everyone good to go," Mozenrath concluded. As he turned away to walk back into the foyer, he muttered to himself, "Actually, the more I think about it, things have been pretty good."


	27. A Multiverse Made of Stories

27\. A Multiverse Made of Stories

After placing the elements of Light, Earth, Death, Aether, and Air in their respective places on the diagram in the control room of the former Cyclonian warship – reforging the Aurora Stone into an unbroken crystal in the process – Mozenrath immediately went about casting a series of rather complex spells to establish a recall point and a communications beacon from the warship. The former ensured that no matter where the ship went, if one of the mages who called it home wanted to teleport to it, they could end up inside the building instead of transporting into the void where it had been when said mage had been in it last. The latter ensured that all of the team's scrolls would connect to each other reaching across worlds. These enchantments took Mozenrath most of the day. He could have gone faster, but he wanted to avoid undergoing another spell of weakness as he'd suffered when giving the base a supply of breathable air.

He was then faced with the dilemma of where to go next in order to further the conquest spell. The loss of the Datascape had set him back several steps. He paced the spacious halls of the warcraft, thinking on the subject, when he realized the ideas he was nipping at were probably those that required a team effort. So he set out for the laboratory. At least with the new base, he ruminated, Yzma and Vexen had nothing to fight about. There was enough space for each to have a separate laboratory in what would probably have passed for a basement if the base were still rooted in the ground.

As Mozenrath neared this area, he noticed that it looked different from the last time he had been there. Namely, the entryway, which had formerly just been a large, dark set of double doors, was replaced by what seemed to be a solid wall with a boar's head statue set in the midst of it.

"Did they decide they didn't want it anymore…?" Mozenrath muttered, looking around the boar's head with curiosity. The more he observed it, the more he realized the two upward-protruding tusks on the statue resembled levers. "Or maybe one of them opens the door?" Tentatively, he reached out, grasped one of the tusks, and yanked it down in a perpendicular direction.

A panel opened up on one of the side walls, and a cannon extended from it, belching a stream of flame directly at Mozenrath. Mozenrath staggered back, arms flailing, narrowly missing having his cape catch on fire. "Why do they even HAVE that lever?" he roared at the cannon, which provided no answer: just more fire.

When the cannon emptied out and retreated behind the wall, Mozenrath turned his attention back to the boar's head. He pulled the other tusk, half expecting to have a laser open fire on him for it. Instead, the entire wall and the portion of the floor Mozenrath was standing on flipped around, landing Mozenrath in what he could only describe as a stone cart on a rollercoaster track set in an expansive chamber that he didn't think could physically possibly even be inside the warship. He barely had time to register this before the cart plunged down the track at a high speed, twisting this way and that so hard that Mozenrath found himself gripping onto the interior of the cart for dear life. The cart came to a hard stop at the end of the track, and Mozenrath was hurtled out, doing a flip in the air before he came to an unsteady landing on his feet in, finally, the laboratory space he recognized as what he'd given over to Yzma and Vexen. It took him a moment to realize he was now clothed in a white laboratory coat; he had no idea at what point this garment had been placed on his body. He shrugged it off, storming deeper into the chamber.

Mozenrath found Yzma and Mim hovering over a boiling beaker. "WHAT was that?" he demanded of them.

"What was what?" Yzma asked without looking away from her project.

"The door," Mozenrath clarified. "The PERFECTLY ORDINARY DOOR. WHAT HAPPENED TO THE DOOR?"

"Eh, it wasn't fun enough," Yzma answered, still not looking at Mozenrath. "I had Wuya install a replacement. Now, did you come down here for a reason, or did you just want to gripe about the rollercoaster?"

"I wanted to ask a favor," Mozenrath stated, forcing himself to cool down. "And it's just so fortunate that I found both of you together, because I think both of you can help me."

"Nope," Mim said immediately. "Don't feel like it."

"You don't even know what I'm going to ask."

"But I don't FEEL like being helpful today."

"Then Yzma," Mozenrath sighed. "Maybe YOU can help me. With the Datascape gone, I don't have an easy way to look for magical artifacts anymore. What I was hoping – "

He was interrupted by storming footsteps. He had a good idea of who had arrived without even needing to turn to see. "WHAT IN THE NAME OF KINGDOM HEARTS AND ALL OF THE WORLDS WAS THAT?" Vexen roared.

"What was what?" Yzma asked again.

"DON'T PLAY DUMB WITH ME!" Vexen barked. "WHEN DID YOU REPLACE THE FRONT DOOR OF OUR LABORATORY WITH A ROLLERCOASTER? No, no, never mind that, I don't care when or why. Just put it back the way it was!"

"And what if I don't want to?" Yzma retorted.

Vexen gritted his teeth. "Mozenrath. Tell her…to put…the entryway…back…the way…it was."

"I would," Mozenrath replied, "but the more I think back on it, the more that was actually kind of fun."

"I don't BELIEVE you!" Vexen hissed.

"Also, you interrupted me," Mozenrath told him, "so I'm not exactly feeling sympathetic to your cause. That actually might be the more important priority here. So, Yzma. You know about locator spells."

"That I do," Yzma confirmed.

"You want a LOCATOR spell?" Mim asked. "That's it? Well, you could have just asked me for one if I actually felt like being helpful! But, as it is, I still don't."

"Then why did you bring it up?" Mozenrath groaned.

"ARE YOU ALL JUST IGNORING ME?" Vexen snapped.

It was at that moment that all attentions were turned to a loud whooping coming from the direction of the rollercoaster. Shortly after it ceased, Roman came jogging into the room, stripping off a lab coat in the process. Once he saw how many others were present, he froze. "I…see this was a bad time."

"Did you want something?" Yzma asked.

"No," Roman answered, offput. "I mean yes. I mean…I did definitely come down here because I wanted something."

"You just wanted to ride the rollercoaster, didn't you?" Yzma called out.

Roman glanced downward. "…Maybe."

"I rode it five times!" Mim volunteered.

"Well, now I feel a little better about my life," Roman replied, looking back up.

"Can we please get back to – " Mozenrath tried to regain control of the conversation.

"PUTTING THE DOORS BACK THE WAY THEY WERE!" Vexen hijacked.

"Um, NO," Roman said firmly. "You are NOT taking that thing away from me."

" – As I was saying," Mozenrath said quickly, "what I want isn't a locator spell for any specific person or object, but a locator spell that can lead to an object that matches a – "

A wicked cackle emanated from the entryway. Aghoul entered, discarding a lab coat of his own. "So this is where the unlife of the party is," he remarked.

"I swear you've already used that one," Yzma groaned.

"Love the new rollercoaster," Aghoul complimented. "You could even say I – "

"LOVE IT TO DEATH," Yzma, Mozenrath, Roman, and Vexen grunted as one. This earned them all small zaps of electricity from Mim in the backs of their necks.

"Would you mind terribly much if I started charging admission for it?" Aghoul queried.

Yzma thought it over. "Just charge Vexen. No one else."

"WHY ME?" Vexen seethed.

"Because frankly, seeing you throw tantrums amuses me almost as much as riding the rollercoaster," Yzma replied with a smirk.

"AN OBJECT THAT MATCHES A DESCRIPTION OR AN AURA, SO WE CAN USE IT TO PICK OUT THINGS THAT RESONATE WITH THE REMAINING ELEMENTS FROM ACROSS THE VARIOUS WORLDS," Mozenrath hurried to say as fast as he possibly could.

Yzma gave him a nod. "I'll work on it."

Mozenrath then teleported out of the room just as Vexen's voice hit one octave higher than it had been. Reappearing in front of the boar's head, he gave it a glance, wondering if perhaps he shouldn't have one more go on the coaster. Then, shrugging it off, he moved out of the bowels of the fortress.

...

-Mozenrath

-Roman Torchwick

-Neo

-Ravess

-Snipe

-Scary guy in dragon helmet

-Scary purple lady

-Shapeshifter

-Redhead with lots of magic

-Purple guy with skulls

-Deep voiced red hat guy

Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, and the still bat-shaped Stork looked over the list they'd compiled on the dashboard screen of the Gummi ship.

"I think we got all of them," Sora announced.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK THEY WANT?" Papyrus wondered out loud.

"Well, we know Maleficent wants to spread the Darkness," Sora mused. "But these guys aren't with Maleficent."

"They just seem like they're spreading chaos wherever they go," Ruby ruminated. "And that's kind of what Roman did best. One of the last things he said to me before I thought he died was that the people he was working for were going to change the world, and 'If you can't beat 'em, join 'em.'"

"You think these are the same people he brought up?" Stork asked.

"I…don't know," Ruby admitted. "I get the feeling they're not."

"Well, we'll know a lot more after we've figured out who Mozenrath is," Sora resolved.

Just then, another Gummi ship blew past their vehicle at such a speed and proximity that it caused the ship to lurch, sending the entire quartet tumbling into the wall with screams of shock.

"Ow," Stork muttered.

"IS EVERYONE OKAY?" Papyrus asked worriedly.

"I'm good!" Sora answered.

"I'm okay!" Ruby chimed in.

"I'm no worse than usual," Stork concluded.

They peeled themselves off the wall and moved back to the dashboard. "Hey!" Sora realized. "We're getting close to Radiant Garden!" He took the wheel, guiding the ship down toward the spires of the great castle. "You're all gonna LOVE this place."

...

"Oh, they're here, they're here!" Cruella gushed as she made for the front entryway of Villain's Vale. Grimhilde and Maleficent were close behind, their curiosity sparked by the prospect of these new allies. "I do believe you're going to be most impressed with them, really," Cruella went on. "They'll be just what you're looking for."

"I most certainly hope so," Maleficent said dryly.

The doors swung wide to reveal a motley assortment of people led by a woman strikingly red in appearance: red-haired, clothed in a red gown, and wearing copious amounts of lipstick and rouge.

"Medusa, DARLING!" Cruella greeted, moving in to embrace the woman in red.

"Cruella, dear!" Medusa replied, returning the gesture. "It is good to see you!"

Grimhilde stood still as a stone, but inside of her, a flame of jealousy raged up.

As soon as Cruella and Medusa broke apart, Cruella stepped back and turned toward Maleficent and Grimhilde. "These are the associates I spoke of," Cruella introduced. Back to the group, she fervently waved for them to step over the threshold; "Come in, come in! Don't just loiter about in the doorway like idiots!"

Once all were inside the fortress, Cruella had them line up. "Everyone, this is Maleficent," she introduced. "From now on, you're to be taking orders from her, and no sassing back from any of you. The same goes for dear Grimmie here. Not a peep against her, you understand?"

Grimhilde's envy abated.

Maleficent was pleased with this order. "And to whom in particular am I giving the orders?"

"Well, first of all, this is Madame Medusa," Cruella explained, standing before the woman in red. "She's an excellent markswoman who knows how to obtain a good deal things you could want to find on the black market."

Cruella then moved to the next in line: a tall man dressed in a long trenchcoat. "Percival C. McLeach. Expert poacher."

Next, a buff man clad in a yellow shirt. "Mr. Clayton. If you need something hunted, animal or human, he'll have it stuffed and mounted on your wall in a matter of minutes."

A broad man in a business suit, flanked by a pair of Dobermans. "Bill Sykes. Guns, knives, you name it, he can use it against you. Though he prefers to hand the job off to these mangy mutts more often than not, for whatever reason."

A pair of men with enough facial similarity that they could be identified as brothers, dressed in brown. "Horace and Jasper Badun. Longtime associates of mine. Both of them are utter IMBECILES, but at the very least they're obedient."

And finally, a tall, balding man dressed in a more elegant suit followed by a short, squat man in a cream-colored ensemble. "Edgar Balthazar and Mr. Snoops. Not useful for particularly anything. Best to relegate them to housework and servants' tasks. They're good at THAT at least. And finally…er…" Cruella had reached the end of the line.

Clayton stepped forward, dipping into a deep bow. "It is an absolute pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Maleficent…Mrs. Grim?"

"Grimhilde," the latter corrected.

"Heh," McLeach snorted. "Maybe it's a pleasure for you. What do WE get out of this whole deal?"

"Obey me, and you shall reap rewards the likes of which you've never dreamed," Maleficent promised. "Fail me or betray me, however, and you will not find yourselves so concerned with what you gain as with what you will lose."

"I like the way you work," Sykes rasped, a grin overtaking him.

"WHAT did I tell you idiots about sassing back?" Cruella snapped.

"Is there a problem?" Grimhilde asked Cruella. "You seemed to falter seeking a conclusion to your introductions."

"Well, yes," Cruella admitted. "There are two more of them. I suppose they're late, AS USUAL."

...

In fact, the two remaining members of Cruella's entourage were breezing through interspace as quickly as they could in a small Gummi ship shaped vaguely like a sailboat. A tall man in a top hat and a shining multicolored suit, sporting a small beard, cranked furiously at the wheel, steering the ship first a few degrees too far left of course, then a few degrees too far right, balancing it all out in the long run. Riding alongside him, a shorter man in a beige suit and a matching bowler hat was keeping an eye out the dashboard window.

"Hard right!" the shorter man barked, noticing another Gummi ship coming dangerously close into view.

The taller man hurriedly steered as rightmost as he could, barely avoiding collision with the other ship and sending it slightly off balance, its occupants tumbling about inside the cabin.

Within a few moments, the shorter man noticed another familiar sight coming into view. "Radiant Garden, dead ahead! VILLAIN'S VALE, DEAD AHEAD!"

"DROP ANCHOR!" the taller man commanded.

The shorter man rushed to flip a lever at the back of the cockpit. As the Gummi ship veered into the atmosphere of Radiant Garden, just above Maleficent's stronghold, an anchor ejected from the rear of the ship and caught on one of the towers. The Gummi ship was jerked to a hard stop; at the same time, the anchor ripped a chunk out of the wall, startling Jafar quite a bit. The Gummi ship finally came crashing down into the valley outside the castle, and its two occupants disembarked.

All of this took place from within the view of one of the atrium windows; Maleficent, Grimhilde, Cruella, and the assembled band of ne'er-do-wells witnessed the whole scene.

"And that would be Dr. Terminus and Hoagy," Cruella sighed.

The two men skidded through the door. "Have we missed anything?" Terminus asked.

"MUST you two make such a scene wherever you go?" Medusa snapped.

"It's more fun that way," Hoagy admitted.

"Terminus and Hoagy have a…limited amount of medicinal knowledge that could come in handy," Cruella explained. "Though their far stronger suit is obtaining any item you wish that Medusa can't get for you."

"That reminds me," Terminus said hushedly. "About the, ah, goods we promised – "

"We'll discuss it LATER," Cruella hissed, hoping Maleficent wouldn't probe too much into that particular thread of conversation.

Maleficent considered asking what exactly Terminus had been about to deliver to Cruella, but she was soon brought to a much more pressing matter when Jasper asked, "So what exactly are you talkin' about us losin' if we fail?"

Maleficent's lips curved into a smile. "I'm glad you asked. I had hoped to give you a little demonstration. Do follow me."

As Maleficent led the odd band through the castle, she asked, "Have you had any experience dealing with magic?"

"I had a quite brutal tangle with a dragon," Terminus volunteered.

"It was brutal," Hoagy affirmed.

"And how did the dragon fare at the end of this ordeal?" Maleficent asked.

"Well, he came out of it…perhaps a little more alive than we had hoped," Terminus admitted.

"I shall attribute your lack of experience to deficiency in your weaponry," Maleficent stated. "You shall be given the proper means to deal with magical foes. At the moment, more than a few such entities are giving us competition."

As Maleficent strode into the meeting chamber with entourage in tow, she found Pete waiting there for her. "Maleficent!" he greeted. "You, uh, you wanted to see me?"

"That I did," Maleficent replied. "I had meant to discuss with you your...performance when it came to acquiring the amulet I sent you to retrieve."

"And I meant to thank you for lettin' me off the hook with that!" Pete sighed. "I thought you was gonna do somethin' terrible to me for it!"

"I simply couldn't bring myself to harm you," Maleficent told him. "After all, you did fight valiantly, and against quite persistent opponents." Her staff materialized in her hand as she said this.

"Heheh, yeah!" Pete agreed. "And I did give them a good smackin' around!"

"Yet despite your best efforts, you STILL failed me," Maleficent reminded him. "You fought alongside a powerful ally, and you lost her shortly before fleeing the scene like a coward."

"I, uh…" Pete wasn't sure where this conversation was going.

"You see why I couldn't bring myself to harm you when you returned," Maleficent explained. "I had to wait to make an example out of you in front of those who most needed to see it."

Pete's blood ran cold.

Thorn-studded vines curled up from the floor, wrapping themselves around Pete and digging their tips into his skin. He immediately seized up, falling to the floor in nothing short of agony. His mouth immediately ran dry, and his skin poured out sweat as the thorns emptied a lethal poison into his veins. Colors and shapes that should not have been there flashed before his eyes. His stomach churned, and he would have vomited had any of his muscles been in working order. And through it all, his heart beat so rapidly he thought it would give out.

"He will be dead of poison within the hour," Maleficent informed her new underlings, conjuring a Corridor of Darkness in the floor that swept Pete out of sight to die in solitude in the dungeon. "I hope you all now understand what you have to lose should you fail."

"Of-of-of course," Edgar stuttered.

"Comin' in loud and clear," McLeach grunted.

...

In one of the outdoor courtyards of Radiant Garden, one that had just been replanted with fresh flowers of all colors, Yuffie Kisaragi found herself helping Nora Valkyrie satisfy her curiosity as to whether shuriken were a good replacement weapon for Magnhild. Several wooden structures painted to look like caricatures of Maleficent and her cronies were stood up at one end of the yard, and Yuffie and Nora stood at the other, a pile of the sharp metal weapons between them.

"You draw back," Yuffie explained, preparing to throw a shuriken. "You keep your eyes on the target…and then it's all in the wrist!" She flicked the shard of metal at the wooden Jafar, where it sank deep between his eyes.

"Gotcha!" Nora drew back, flinging her own shuriken. It fell short several feet of the mark.

Yuffie shook her head. "Watch me more closely this time." She sent another shuriken singing into dummy Jafar's chest.

Nora tried again, but to her frustration, her own weapon just clanged on the ground once more. "I don't think this is for me."

"I think you'll get it if you keep practicing," Yuffie encouraged. "Mind if I show you how to do it a little more…hands-on?"

"Go right ahead!" Nora affirmed.

As Yuffie positioned herself near Nora, gently taking the redhead's arm and pivoting her wrist, Nora felt her heart leap ever so slightly at the touch. This surprised her.

"Okay, now let 'er fly!" Yuffie commanded, letting go of Nora.

Nora flicked the shuriken, and it buried itself in a dummy Ursula's neck.

"Told you you could do it!" Yuffie said with a grin. "Keep that up and soon, you'll be able to work with one of THESE!" She lifted her hand into the air, calling up a four-pointed shuriken the size of her own head. This one was sent spinning across the yard to decapitate wooden Hades.

Both girls had their attention diverted by the sound of a Gummi ship passing overhead. Looking up, Yuffie recognized it immediately; "Hey, that's Sora!"

"Sora!" Nora echoed. "That probably means Ruby, too!"

"Let's go tell everyone!" Yuffie grasped Nora's wrist and dragged her toward the castle to inform the others of Sora's arrival.

Nora was very glad to have made a friend in Yuffie, she reflected.

...

Kairi weaved among the bookshelves of the castle library, her hand hovering over the spines of different books as she tried to select some new reading material. She wasn't sure exactly what she was in the mood for, and had no idea as to the contents of many of these books.

A voice pierced her concentration; "Mind if I make a recommendation?"

Kairi turned to see Ienzo at the long table in the library's center, with a plethora of books spread around him. "Hi, Ienzo! I didn't see you there. What were you going to suggest?"

"Two books over from where your hand is now is one of my old favorites," Ienzo said with a smile. "It isn't exactly didactic literature, but if you're looking for a good adventure, it should satisfy your needs."

Kairi removed the indicated book, a large blue volume, from the shelf, feeling the weight of it. "I think a good adventure is just what I want, now that you mention it," she commented. She crossed to the table; "Mind if I ask what you're working on?"

"I've been trying to find records of the sort of spell you said possessed your weapons," Ienzo answered. "Particularly something that can take away a weapon magically bonded to its wielder. So far, I haven't found anything, but there are older and more obscure tomes in this library I haven't touched yet. Those may just hold the key…so to speak."

"If it's there, I know you'll find it," Kairi told him. Then, after a moment's pause, she continued, "Ienzo? Do you…mind if I ask you something?"

"Go ahead." Ienzo straightened up to look Kairi in the eye. "I could use a break."

"You're older than me, so I know you remember this place better than I do," Kairi said. "I remember you a little bit. I remember liking you a lot. How close were we?"  
Ienzo nearly laughed. "When Ansem first adopted me and I met you," he answered, "I was actually a little scared. You had so much energy, I didn't know how to react to you. But I soon learned you were always kind and caring to me. You had a favorite book of fairy tales that you liked to read to me over and over, and those stories became some of my very favorites. That's why I think you'll like the same fiction I do. I was sad for a very long time after losing my parents, but I was always glad to have you as essentially my sister. You and Ansem and…well."

Kairi knew what name he had cut off before. "I don't want to bring up a sore subject, so you don't have to answer me if you don't want to, but I don't remember him that well. What was he like to us?"

"Hmm." Ienzo thought on it. "Even was…very stern, always. But I think deep down, he cared. He was always careful not to let harm come to us, even when we tried our best to defy him."

"I'm sorry we couldn't – " Kairi began.

Ienzo put up a hand. "If anyone should be sorry, it's Maleficent."

"We won't give up," Kairi resolved. "I promise."

"Neither will I," Ienzo said with a firm nod.

"Thank you for answering my questions," Kairi told Ienzo warmly.

"You're welcome," Ienzo replied. His gaze then slid downward, to the table. "Kairi…"

"Yes?"

"I'm…sorry for the pain I caused your friends in Castle Oblivion. And for everything I did when I was part of the Organization. I know nothing I can do can ever really make up for it, but – "

"You already have," Kairi assured him. "I know you did bad things. But I know you've grown past them, too. It's okay. We can still be a family."

Ienzo looked back up into her eyes and could tell that she meant it.

"If you ever want to read a book together again…" Kairi went on.

"I'm not much one for reading out loud," Ienzo told her, "but I'd like to hear the way you read it to me one day."

"It's a deal."

It was then that Nora and Yuffie burst into the library, yelling at the top of their lungs, "SORA'S HERE!" They exited as soon as they'd come. Not long after, Chip poked his head into the library; "Hey, I'm not really sure what's going on, but apparently some guy named Sora is here!"

"Sora?" Kairi repeated. She turned to Ienzo. "Come on! Let's go meet him!"

...

As the Hollow Bastion Restoration Committee, Riku, Kairi, Jaune, Ren, Nora, the Mystic Rangers, Cadance, and Luna gathered around the landing strip, Sora's Gummi ship touched down. Its pilot and his three companions exited, and Riku found himself running toward his friend; "SORA!" It then occurred to him that he had no idea what he was going to actually do when he reached Sora.

Sora, however, had that covered. With a cry of "RIKU!", he lunged forward and practically tackled Riku in a tight embrace that Riku found himself enthusiastically returning. Then they backed off only so much that Riku's hands were still on Sora's shoulders and Sora's hands on Riku's forearms.

"I see you made some new friends," Riku observed.

"I see YOU made some new friends too," Sora added.

"What happened to you out there?"

"What happened to you to get HERE?"

Riku laughed. "Looks like we have some stories to tell each other. I know ours is long, and I bet yours is too."

"You know it," Sora confirmed. "There's just one thing we have to do first. Is Merlin around?"

"Is Merlin around!" Merlin huffed, making his way through the crowd to see Sora. "Of course I'm around! I knew there would be a very important reunion here at this place, and I made sure to be here. Now, what's happened?"

Sora stepped away from Riku, gesturing to Stork. "He's not supposed to be a bat."

"I see!" Merlin said with a pensive nod. "And what, may I ask, ARE you supposed to be?"

"I'm SUPPOSED to be a Merb," Stork answered, "though I'm sure there's about an eighty percent chance you're about to tell me I'm going to be stuck as a bat forever."

"So you're from Atmos!" Merlin realized. "A strange world, that one. Bit of an airborne hodgepodge."

"Don't mind that one," Cid snapped. "He's got somethin' like that to say about every world."

"But still a fascinating one," Merlin told Stork, ignoring Cid completely. "Now, don't you worry one bit. It should be a snap to turn you back to what you were." He reached into his sleeve, withdrawing a long wooden wand. With a flick and a twirl, he pointed the wand at the tiny green bat. Stork transformed in an explosion of sparks, finding himself in the body he was used to calling his own.

Chip, Yuffie, and Nora applauded.

Stork immediately felt himself all over, taking inventory. "Let's see…two arms, two legs, eight fingers, eight toes…yup, all seems to be here." He looked up to Merlin with gratitude. "Eheheh…thanks."

"NOW WE CAN GET ON TO TELLING OUR STORIES!" Papyrus said excitedly. "WE HAPPEN TO HAVE A VERY GOOD ONE!"

"Ours isn't…quite that good," Jaune admitted, "but you should still know."

"To the library, everyone!" Merlin commanded, and the group made their way back to the castle.

"It's good to see you again," Riku told Sora.

"You too," Sora replied.

"I hope you didn't have too much fun without me," Ruby teased Jaune.

"I wouldn't really call it 'fun,'" Jaune sighed.

"But you're all okay, right?" Ruby asked worriedly, looking around to confirm that Nora and Ren were among the group.

"Yeah," Jaune affirmed. "We are. Maybe that's what counts."

"So…are you a warrior?" Aerith asked Papyrus, taking note of his armored breastplate and cape.

"WARRIOR, FRIEND, PUZZLE MASTER, CHEF EXTRAORDINAIRE, AND MORE," Papyrus answered.

As Stork passed Ienzo, he simply said, "Nice hair."

"Same to you," Ienzo replied.

...

Yzma had decided to test Snipe's skill as a laboratory assistant. Vexen, already aware of how well this would go, got out of dodge as quickly as possible. Mim stuck around to watch the process for the very same reason.

"Hand me the jar on the top shelf," Yzma ordered Snipe. "Second from the right."

Snipe handed Yzma the second jar from the left. "Don't you know your left from your right?" Yzma barked.

"Yeah!" Snipe put out both hands before him. "The left hand is the one that makes the 'L'!" He used his left hand to trace a completely backwards L on the intersection of his forefinger and right thumb.

Yzma gritted her teeth. "Second from the LEFT, then."

Snipe handed her the jar, and she poured it into the large bowl she was using to mix her latest concoction. "I'm telling you, this spell Mozenrath is asking for, it's unprecedented!" Yzma hissed. "Does he have any idea of how difficult it is to simply create a new spell from scratch? Especially one that's based on such vague criteria as HE gave?"

"I always thought it was easy," Mim remarked.

"Then why aren't you HELPING ME MORE?" Yzma barked.

"Because I still don't feel like it," Mim answered.

"Now, for this next part, I'm going to need complete concentration." Yzma sorted out several measuring spoons. "Both of you, be quiet and don't talk until I say so."

She began to meticulously measure out powders and liquids, calculating in her head what would happen if the various components reacted to each other.

Snipe, in the meantime, had found three bottles marked "DO NOT TOUCH," "SERIOUSLY DO NOT TOUCH," and "IF YOU TOUCHED THE OTHER POTIONS, FINE, BUT DON'T COMBINE THEM WITH THIS." He proceeded to pour all three into a beaker.

The resulting explosion startled Yzma into dropping an entire vial into the mixing bowl. "What did I SAY?" She snapped at Snipe.

"You said not to talk!" Snipe responded. "I didn't talk!"

"Well, now I'm adding a new rule! Don't touch anything I don't tell you to touch!"

"But I'm bored!" Snipe groaned. "And also thirsty!" He plucked a random vial, uncorked it, and downed the contents in one gulp.

"No, DON'T – " Yzma tried to warn.

"Ah!" Snipe licked his lips. "That was good stuff! Haaaaaaaaave youuuuuuuuuu gooooooooot aaaaaaanyyyyyyyyyy moooooooooooore?" His movements were slowed down as though he were moving through a thick pool of honey; it took him twice as long as it should have to put the empty vial down on the counter.

"That was a slow motion potion," Yzma sighed. "Though I'm sure you figured that out."

"Whyyyyyyyyy diiiiiiiiiiid youuuuuuuuuu maaaaaaaake aaaaaaaaa – "

"Eh, thought it might come in handy," Yzma answered. "I had the ingredients on hand. Come to think of it, if you hadn't drunk it, I could have had some fun tricking Vexen into drinking it."

"Weeeeeeeeeeell, fiiiiiiiiiix iiiiiiiit!"

Yzma reached for a vial, uncorked it, and splashed the contents over Snipe. "And now you've put me out a super-speed potion as well," she sighed. "I had intended to use that for catching sailfish bare-handed, you know! If things keep going THIS well, I'm just going to relegate you to transportation duty. Which reminds me, I need to have you fitted for a tent you can use to carry me around."

"I was hoping there would be more things breaking," Mim huffed.

Yzma crossed the lab in an excited cartwheel, firing up several burners. "The first test sample is as good as it's going to get!" she declared. "Now, Snipe, bring it over here! I assume you can handle something as simple as crossing a room with a bowl."

"I can do that!" Snipe affirmed, picking up the mixing bowl and breaking into a full-on run.

"NO!" Yzma yelled. "DON'T RUN – I really should have just let you stay in slow motion, shouldn't I?"

Snipe skidded to a halt, thrusting the bowl at Yzma. "Here you go!" However, due to the momentum created during his jog, what he ended up doing was splashing the bowl's contents all over Yzma and Mim. "Whoops…"

Yzma was practically turning red with anger. "Sniiiiiipe," she growled, "do you know how long it took me to mix all of that?"

Mim felt a strange pulsing sensation at her neck. "What – " Realizing it was coming from the Amulet of Avalor, she removed the gem to take a look at it. It was pulsing a faint blue, like a dying heartbeat. "What was that spell supposed to do, again?"

"Locate things based on description," Yzma told Mim. "But it wasn't ready yet! Who KNOWS what effects it would have?"

"If it lets Morgana out of this amulet," Mim told Snipe, "I'll force-feed you live centipedes."

But the amulet seemed to have no intention of relinquishing its prisoner. In Mim's hand, the gem made a sudden pull, as though trying to fly toward something, but immediately settled back down. "I think it's trying to locate something!" Mim realized.

"What in the WORLDS would it be trying to locate?" Yzma wondered out loud.

"Well, what were you trying to locate with your spell?" Mim asked Yzma.

"Well, one of the things we still needed was an element of Entropy," Yzma reminded Mim. "I was going for that. You think Mozenrath will want to know about this? He's going to want to know about this. Come on; let's go!"

As Yzma and Mim turned to leave, Snipe tripped over a loose test tube he'd knocked over earlier, spilling over Vexen's table and shattering several beakers. Mim, who had still been holding out for Snipe breaking things, and Yzma, who couldn't wait to see the look on Vexen's face when he got back to see the damage, were both satisfied.

...

Mozenrath's reading in bed was interrupted by a knock on the door. He crossed the room to open it, looking at Yzma, Mim, and Snipe.

"Did you hear that?" Yzma asked.

"You…knocked on the door," Mozenrath replied.

"Exactly," Yzma told him. "I knocked, and you opened the door because you were actually ready to talk to someone. Now that you've seen someone else do it, maybe you'll give it a try yourself."

"Did you come here for any other reason than to give me a lecture on knocking?" Mozenrath asked.

"This." Yzma held out the pulsing Amulet of Avalor. "There was a bit of an…accident in the lab regarding the spell you asked me to work on, and we think it might be trying to go somewhere and locate something for you."

"Hmm." Mozenrath regarded the gem. "Where did you say this amulet came from, again?"

"Enchancia," Mim reported.

"If we want to find out what it's being attracted to," Mozenrath decided, "its homeworld is the best place to start."

"Ohhhhhhhh no!" Mim folded her arms. "I am NOT going back to that stupidly sunny world!"

"Then you can just deliver the message to everyone else that I'M going," Mozenrath told her, swiping the gem in his gauntleted hand. "I have a good feeling about this. Wherever it's trying to go is probably where I want to be."

"Well, you're not going anywhere without me," Yzma told him. "If this spell somehow went wrong, which, given what I've had to work with all day, it probably did, I want to be there."

"To make sure nothing bad happens to me because of what you did?" Mozenrath answered. "I'm actually sort of touched."

"No," Yzma grunted. "To figure out exactly went wrong so I can fix it on the next go."

Mozenrath shrugged. "I'll take it."

"We'll be taking your little token of love, by the way," Yzma told Mim.

"You BETTER bring it back," Mim insisted. "I have a nemesis in there who I'd like to keep VERY close!"

"We should probably take some form of muscle with us in case we run into trouble," Mozenrath mused. "Not that there's much I can't handle, but just in case…"

Snipe, by that point, was tired, and had decided to curl up in the middle of the hallway and go to sleep there rather than find his own room. His snoring echoed down the hall.

"...Just leave him be," Yzma advised.

"Good call," Mozenrath agreed.

...

Mozenrath very nearly teleported directly into the Huntsman's chamber, but after thinking it over, he instead appeared outside his door, knocking firmly but politely, giving the Huntsman the chance to retrieve his helmet and cover his face before answering.

The Huntsman was surprised, when he answered the knock upon his door, to see who was standing on the other side. "Mozenrath!"

"You seem surprised," Mozenrath told him.

"You knocked," the Huntsman replied dryly.

"How do you feel about a mission?" Mozenrath asked.

"What sort of mission?" the Huntsman inquired.

"Yzma botched a spell in a way that may or may not be leading us to something magically important," Mozenrath explained. "This should only be a small affair. A short trip. But just in case…"

The Huntsman nodded. "There may be unexpected dangers. And unexpected opportunities."

"Exactly. And seeing how well off we were having you around on the last mission…"

"When do we depart?" the Huntsman asked.

"As soon as Yzma finishes leaving the message about where we're going," Mozenrath told him.

Most of the occupants of the spaceborne warship had gone to sleep already, but Yzma was able to inform Aghoul and Irmaplotz that she, Mozenrath, and most likely the Huntsman would be out of commission for what would hopefully be a short excursion out; however, if they were to be gone for a while longer, no one should worry. She met back up with Mozenrath and the Huntsman, clutching the amulet's chain tightly. Every now and again, it would try to make another jerking movement, only to quiet itself down.

"Let us not waste any more time," the Huntsman encouraged.

Mozenrath cast a Corridor leading to Enchancia, and the trio walked through.

...

Sora's group told their story first, and it was well received, being the tale with a happier ending. Then Riku and his group told their story, and it left everyone feeling rather somber.

"What can Maleficent even do with Keyblades?" Sora wondered out loud. "It's not like she can use them."

"So far, I haven't been successful in any of my research on the subject," Ienzo admitted.

"That's not the only thing we have to worry about now," Leon pointed out. "Apparently, we're dealing with this 'Mozenrath' now."

"It doesn't even make sense that he's not working with Maleficent or Xehanort," Yuffie chimed in. "How many villains even ARE there?"

"We don't know he's not working with Xehanort," Sora realized.

"We do," Riku reminded him. "Xehanort is only concerned with gathering the Thirteen Darknesses and implanting his heart in them. If you add in Mozenrath's friends to the Xehanorts we already know about, it's more than thirteen. It also sounds like they're acting of their own free will."

"Xehanort especially doesn't care about the things Mozenrath has been picking up," Leon added. "Crystals. The Cornerstone of Light. Causing dissent between humans and monsters."

"None of that would feed into the Keyblade War," Ienzo affirmed.

"So you're telling me that we have to worry about THREE maniacs trying to wreak multi-world destruction in various ways with powerful allies," Stork realized.

"Welcome to our lives," Cid responded. "Also, can I just say that tellin' Maleficent you hid the Book of Prophecies was probably the STUPIDEST thing you've ever done?"

"I agree it was rash," Cadance commented, "but it was the only way to get them to leave Atmos alone."

"We just have to be on our guard," Leon stated. "This now gives Maleficent even more of a reason to target anyone close to Sora."

"Speaking of Atmos," Merlin broke in, "from what you've said, it sounds as though there's a fellow there who greatly needs my help. I should be off to take care of that, then, though I wish you all the best of luck." With that, Merlin transformed into a shooting comet of sparks that zoomed down the hallways and out of the castle, Terra-Valhalla-bound.

"So what happens now?" Madison asked.

"I don't know about the rest of you," Sora said, "but I was planning on a trip to Agrabah to find out more about this Mozenrath. Though…now that I think about it…shouldn't we find a way to replace the lost weapons first? If we really do have that many people after us, and you don't have anything to defend yourselves…"

"We do have magic," Riku confirmed, "but other than that, we are going to need something in the long run, even if it's just simple swords."

"What about those guys that fixed our weapons earlier?" Nora asked. "The Moogles? Can't they build stuff for us?"

"Not that quickly from scratch," Riku said with a shake of his head. "Not for all of us."

"But it's better to ask them than to have NOTHING, right?" Nora pressed.

"Right," Riku agreed.

"We should go down and ask them about it before we do anything else," Sora decided. "I think I'm gonna do that right now. Anyone who wants can come with me."

"I'm in," Riku said immediately.

"I would," Ruby said, "but I think I need to catch up with Jaune, Ren, and Nora."

"I'LL COME – " Papyrus began, but Ruby nudged him hard, directing his gaze to her hands, where she first pointed to Sora and Riku, then formed a little heart shape with her fingers. "OHHHHHH," Papyrus said in understanding. "ON SECOND THOUGHT, YOU TWO SHOULD DEFINITELY GO ALONE. THIS SOUNDS LIKE A MISSION FOR YOU TWO AND NOBODY ELSE. YOU MIGHT EVEN CALL IT A ROMANTIC – "

This time it was Stork who nudged Papyrus from the other side.

" – REGULAR MISSION WITH NO EXTRA CONNOTATIONS WHATSOEVER," Papyrus finished.

"O…kay?" Sora was confused.

No one else spoke up. "Looks like you two are on your own," Ruby said mischievously.

"We'll be right back!" Sora promised as he and Riku dashed out of the library.

Once everyone was sure the pair was long gone, Ruby asked, "You all see the sparks between those two, right?"

The room was filled with noises of affirmation.

...

Outside the castle, Sora and Riku were careful to keep pace with each other until Sora suggested, "Wanna race for old times' sake?"

"You know you're gonna lose," Riku laughed.

They both broke into top speed, and true to his assumption, Riku skidded into place at Mog's shop a good distance ahead of Sora. When Sora caught up, he gave Riku a playful clap on the shoulder. "Looks like you got me again."

"Maybe next time," Riku teased, reaching out to ruffle Sora's hair.

Mog flitted out front of his shop with a squeak of greeting. "Welcome, kupo! What can I do for you?"

"We've got kind of a tall order," Riku told him. He turned to Sora; "Can we even afford all this?"

"We can pick up some odd jobs around town if we need to," Sora replied. "But I've got a pretty good purse of munny."

"What do you need?" Mog asked. "I'm quite curious now, kupo! Though if it's a tall order, I'm not sure if I can get to it today. I have a very important date, kupo!"

"Oh?" Sora replied. "What are you doing?"

"Visiting someone very special," Mog answered, and Sora and Riku both noticed his snow-white cheeks grow just a touch pink. "He lives on another world, kupo, so I don't get to see him very much."

"Oh," Riku said. "We didn't want to take up your time."

"Tell me what you want anyway, kupo. I may have enough time to work something out."

"Remember the weapons I brought to you to have fixed earlier?" Riku asked. "We need those rebuilt…and seven more made."

"Oh, dear," Mog said solemnly. "That is a tall order, kupo." He appeared crestfallen for a minute, then shook it off. "But I have an idea! My special someone lives in a community of inventors and builders. Maybe they could lend a hand in making your new weapons if we all worked together! And if you helped work on them too, the price would be much more negotiable."

"That sounds great!" Sora cried.

"Are you sure we wouldn't be interrupting your date?" Riku questioned.

"He and I usually end up crafting things together anyway," Mog admitted. "It's what we love to do. If you have weapons made by the two of us, they'll be the best in the business! Do you have plans for the weapons you want, kupo?"

"Not yet," Riku answered. "Give us some time and we can have them for you."

"I need time to get ready anyway," Mog informed Sora and Riku. "Come back here when you're ready, and we'll take one of my ships."

Riku looked to Sora. "You think the others can handle going to Agrabah alone?"

"They can take care of themselves," Sora affirmed. "Besides, we'll all meet up again together after this anyway."

"I will see you in a few minutes!" Mog said excitedly before rushing off to obtain a tiny dress suit, a bouquet of fresh flowers, and a wrench.

"Y'know," Sora remarked as he and Riku took back off for the castle, "it'll be good to go out on a quest, just the two of us. We haven't had much time together since this Mozenrath stuff started."

"Yeah," Riku agreed. "I'm looking forward to it."

...

Back up at the castle, Sora and Riku collected orders for the weapons. Riku had opted for a sword, and Kairi wished to try the same. Nora and Ren wanted Magnhild and StormFlower rebuilt ("Not that the shuriken were a bad idea," Nora said quickly. "I just feel more comfortable with the hammer."). Nick, Madison, and Vida also requested swords, though the latter two had to think a bit about this decision. Chip requested a crossbow, and Xander's preference leaned toward a battleaxe.

When it came to Jaune's turn, he said, "If you're going to be building Crocea Mors from scratch…there's…something I want you to ask them to add." He handed over a piece of gold that resembled a small headdress. "Can you…can you see if they'll put this on it?"

"Sure," Sora said, taking the headdress in his hands. "What is this, anyway?"

"Something that belonged to a friend," Jaune said somberly.

"Pyrrha," Kairi realized.

Upon hearing that name, Sora became aware of the significance. He nodded. "We'll make sure it gets used."

"And…here." Jaune handed over a small bag. "It's not much, but it's all the lien I have left. To help pay for it."

Everyone else went digging around in pockets for money to add for the fund, but Leon beat them to the punch, saying, "Don't." He held up a larger purse, which he lobbed toward Sora. "Jaune, you can take your money back. Your weapons were lost during Restoration Committee business. Let the Committee handle it."

"Thanks, Leon!" Sora said in awe.

"We're happy to do it," Aerith confirmed.

"So what about the rest of you?" Sora asked as he gave Jaune back his money. "This could take a while, so we were wondering…"

"If we'd go figure out the dirt on Mozenrath?" Ruby asked. "I'm in!"

"Me too!" Kairi affirmed.

All around, there were nods and words of assent; Papyrus, Stork, Nick, Vida, Madison, Xander, Chip, Cadance, Luna, Nora, Ren, and Jaune all wanted in on the Seven Deserts venture.

"Can I go?" Yuffie begged Cid. "Pleeeeeeease?"

"You get airship sick," Cid grunted.

"I do not!" Yuffie put her hands on her hips. "I had the flu that day! I just wanna get out of this castle and have an adventure somewhere else! Please please please!"

"I'm not the boss of you!" Cid reminded her. "You wanna go, then go!"

"You kinda act like our dad sometimes," Yuffie pointed out.

"Well, I'm not! Though if that many of ya are goin' to Agrabah, I might as well be the one to take ya there. Regular Gummi ship ain't gonna hold all of ya. Time to break out the big guns."

"ROAD TRIP!" Nora cried. "Well, okay, there aren't roads involved but…you know what I mean."

"I think you're all gonna have a lot of fun in Agrabah," Sora informed the group. "All you gotta do is go up to the palace and say you know Sora and Riku. Though Kairi should have that covered."

Kairi nodded. "I've been there a couple times. It's an amazing city."

Once everyone was in agreement about their assignments, they split up, with Sora and Riku heading back to the Moogle Shop and Cid leading the ragtag group of heroes toward the Gummi garage.

...

Night had already fallen over Enchancia by the time Mozenrath, the Huntsman, and Yzma appeared on the castle grounds. The moment they set foot in the kingdom, the Amulet of Avalor squirmed in Mozenrath's hand, jerking heartily and physically begging to be let go.

"Follow it," Mozenrath commanded, tossing the amulet into the air.

It began to fly toward the castle, and Mozenrath, Yzma, and the Huntsman followed. Only once were they troubled by the night patrol of guards. After Yzma executed an elaborate series of parkour over the hedges, complete with backflips, in order to get out of sight, and the Huntsman darted from shadow to shadow, Mozenrath's attempt to sneak by completely failed; he was noticed. But before the guard could cry out, the sorcerer removed a handful of sand from his pocket and blew at the guard's face; the armored man fell fast asleep on the ground.

"Show-off," Mozenrath muttered as he passed Yzma.

"Killjoy" was her reply.

The amulet was located at one of the castle's walls, repeatedly beating itself against the stone; it wanted in. When the trio approached, the gem dropped down to the ground, then scooted up near where the wall of the castle intersected with the earth, banging against the wall there.

Mozenrath crouched to examine the spot. Curious, he swept the amulet back into his hand to examine the wall. Pressing lightly against the wall, he discovered a small panel, perhaps just big enough to accommodate a good sized rabbit, that opened up into blackness. The amulet jerked itself out of Mozenrath's grip and zoomed into the hole he had revealed.

"Well, there goes THAT lead," Yzma sighed. "Unless…hold on. I'm getting an idea. First, we'll need a sailfish – no, that's no good; Snipe used up the last of my super speed potion."

"We won't need a sailfish," Mozenrath told her sternly. "Why would we even need a sailf – actually, I don't want to know. We can still follow that amulet. Watch and be impressed."

He waved his arm upward in an arc, creating a curve of blue energy that sparkled against the dark of the night. The blue washed over himself, Yzma, and the Huntsman, and when it cleared, all three had shrunk dramatically, now just tall enough to use the newly opened passage.

"An impressive spell," the Huntsman said…before doing an immediate double take. His voice had become high-pitched and squeaky. Yzma burst out into laughter at the contrast of hearing the gravelly-voiced Huntsman with such a timbre only to realize that her own voice had undergone the same change.

"Not again," she sighed. "Why is it ALWAYS this voice?"  
"It's a side effect of the shrinking spell," Mozenrath informed his cohorts. "It should wear off when we regain full size."

"'Should'?" Yzma repeated, now looking visibly nervous.

"Let's go," Mozenrath beckoned, disappearing into the black of the passage.

"I can only imagine what we've gotten ourselves into this time," the Huntsman muttered, following right after.

Bringing up the rear, Yzma giggled. "You and that voice. I just can't deal with it!"

"It's the Academy all over again," the Huntsman squeaked under his breath.

The small passage extended for several feet before opening up into what seemed to the tiny villains a cavern; in truth, it was a hallway big enough to accommodate the average sized human. Mozenrath reverted himself, Yzma, and the Huntsman to full size in order to proceed.

"Testing, testing, one two!" Yzma spoke aloud, noting gladly that her voice was back to its normal pitch. "Ah, much better."

"Mine had better be as it was as well," the Huntsman said, and was pleased to observe that it was.

"If we could all stop testing our voices for a moment," Mozenrath said, his own voice also back to normal, "I hear something interesting."

All three went silent, and the sound of water lapping was barely audible. "Water?" Yzma commented. "Here?"  
"This…doesn't look like it's part of the main castle," Mozenrath observed, looking up at the dark walls. "It would be a lot better lit. I'm guessing we're in some sort of secret passageway."

"A passage that connects to an underground pool, or perhaps a river," the Huntsman filled in.

"Exactly," Mozenrath confirmed.

A few paces ahead and one stairway down, the hallway opened up into a true cavern. Mozenrath summoned a small ball of blue light into his hand to illuminate the space. The spacious area was held up by several stone pillars, and a small landing provided a place to stand at the edge of a great pool of clear blue water. The sound of water sloshing alerted Mozenrath, Yzma, and the Huntsman to the arrival of a small boat, silver and purple, studded with great violet gemstones that glimmered against the light of Mozenrath's luminescent sphere. The boat calmly sailed up to the landing, where it pulled to a stop and waited.

"It appears to have a will of its own," the Huntsman observed.

"Then let's see where it wants to take us," Mozenrath suggested.

"Is that wise?" the Huntsman asked.

"Wise or not…" Mozenrath climbed into the boat, plucking an object from the bottom of the vehicle and holding it up: the Amulet of Avalor. "It's apparently what we're looking for."

"Besides, with a boat like this, we're traveling in style," Yzma remarked, stepping gracefully over into the boat and taking a seat. "Why can't more of our lair look like this?"

"Because we want to be able to focus on our work without being visually assaulted," the Huntsman answered, getting into the boat at last. The small water vehicle took off, heading for a passageway in the wall. On the way, it passed a small well overgrown with pink and purple flowers. Mozenrath's magical light followed all the while.

"I've been thinking we should do some decorating to make the lair feel more like home," Mozenrath remarked, "but I was thinking we could go in more of a blue-and-black direction."

Before any more discourse could crop up about the appearance of the base, all three suddenly noticed the boat was passing by a strange vista. On the bank, a thick forest grew, and a small cottage was set in the midst of it.

"What IS this?" Yzma wondered out loud.

"I think it's either a larger-than-average portal or a mirage projection," Mozenrath guessed.

As the boat continued, it passed a white stairway leading upward, flanked by a chiming clock and a vaguely pumpkin-shaped carriage. "This is starting to look familiar," Mozenrath muttered.

"Perhaps this is where we're meant to disembark," the Huntsman suggested. But as soon as he made to leave the boat, the small craft sped up, leaving the stairway behind.

As it passed a pillar with a pair of high-heeled shoes wrought of glass balanced on its summit, Mozenrath sighed, "I KNOW I've seen THOSE before. Every self-respecting villain knows about those."

"Don't they belong to one of those pesky pure princesses or something like that?" Yzma asked.

"Yes," Mozenrath answered, "and so did that house we passed."

The boat was next taken past a vista of an enormous castle, with a spinning wheel mounted on the opposite bank. "I could see myself living somewhere like that," Mozenrath commented.

"Eh," Yzma said with a shrug. "It's a little plain as far as castles go."

"Is this also connected to a Princess of Heart?" the Huntsman asked.

"Actually, yes," Mozenrath confirmed. "Maybe there's more to Enchancia than we knew."

The boat sailed through a grove of seaweed, past a willow-bordered lagoon, as jets of water arced overhead. "I'm…not sure WHO this belongs to," Mozenrath admitted. "Not one of the Princesses of Heart. That I know of."

As the vessel passed through what appeared to be a flooded castle hallway, bearing a glowing red rose in a glass jar as decoration, the trio looked on with curiosity. But then it passed into a stretch of rounded towers and treasure heaps, and Mozenrath folded his arms in disgust; "Well, THIS looks a little too close to home."

"What do you mean?" Yzma asked. "Our lair looks nothing LIKE this!"

"The world you called home before meeting us," the Huntsman realized.

"Specifically, the most annoying part of it," Mozenrath grumbled.

A strong wind blew multicolored leaves past a tall cliff. "Some of these belong to Princesses of Heart, and some don't," Mozenrath muttered. "I have…no idea what this means."

"If I'd been in charge of this ride," Yzma grumbled, "it would have at least included some drops."

"And for that, we're grateful you weren't in charge of designing this canal," the Huntsman responded.

"Are you just here to mock me?" Yzma snapped.

The silver-and-purple boat floated serenely beneath an arched bridge nestled amongst cherry blossom trees, then through a thickly wooded bayou alive with the lights of fireflies, then past a tall tower barely visible in the distance and mostly hidden by cliffs and foliage. Mozenrath gestured to the last; "You know, that image came up in the Datascape in one of the worlds I was investigating. Some cataclysm caused its sun to drip onto the world's surface, and there have been legends about plants with restorative properties popping up. It looked like a good place to look for the Element of Life we need."

"And what was this world?" the Huntsman asked.

"It was dominated by a kingdom called Corona," Mozenrath replied. "From what I gathered, it's had a very complicated history in regards to the royal family."

As another castle appeared in the distance on the bank, Mozenrath observed, "Aaaaaand that would be the Coronan royal castle. Actually, forget what I said earlier. THAT's what I call a castle worth calling home. Then again, why not both, in the long run?"

Floating, illuminated paper lanterns wafted down from above; Yzma batted one out of the way. "I have had just about ENOUGH OF THIS TEDIOUS RIDE!" she seethed. But the boat wasn't done yet; it next passed a highland marked by standing stones, with a stray wooden bow lying on the bank.

"It seems all of these would have been relevant destinations," the Huntsman pointed out, "but our vessel insists on taking us right past all of them."

"We're either going somewhere better than all of this combined," Yzma hypothesized, "or right into a death trap. At this rate, my money is on the death trap."

"Let's just see this through," Mozenrath encouraged. "If nothing else, we can come back and explore later. Now that we know where everything is, teleportation should be safe."

After a brief cold wind carried a gust of snow past, the boat appeared to arrive at its final destination: a chamber where spherical crystals hung from the ceiling and jingled merrily against one another. A winding stairway carpeted in pink with a railing intertwined with flowering vines lay at the far end of this chamber, and it was here that the boat pulled to a stop. "End of the road," Mozenrath remarked. He, the Huntsman, and Yzma stood up to disembark at the same time. The sudden shift of balance toppled the boat, sending all three crashing gracelessly onto the bottom of the stair.

"We could have coordinated that better," Mozenrath grunted from beneath the weight of his two companions.

"Get off, GET off!" Yzma hissed, and all three were soon righted. They practically charged up the stairs to see what lay at the top. What they found barring the way was an enormous iron-wrought gate inset with a large keyhole.

"Anything worth locking up is something worth taking," Mozenrath said with glee. "And the bigger the lock, the better whatever's behind it."

"You don't think this needs one of those key-sword things to open it, do you?" Yzma asked.

"Maybe," Mozenrath answered. "But let's see what a little magic can do."

He placed his right hand over the keyhole, sensing strong enchantments that already pushed back at him. He pushed harder. Blue energy radiated from his gauntlet, spreading throughout the whole gate, and an audible click was heard before the gate simply rolled out of the way, revealing bright blue light beyond.

"Whoever built that lock wasn't even trying," Mozenrath remarked as he strode into the chamber beyond. Yzma and the Huntsman followed gingerly; the Huntsman withdrew his weapon just in case.

Beyond the blue light lay a sight that made Mozenrath's heart leap. He was inside a library, wide with circular walls and levels that went up as high as he could see. Shelves carved right into the wooden walls held an absolute plethora of books. In the center of the structure was a monolithic blue crystal held in a frame that curled out into artistic spirals. "I think we just hit the jackpot!" the young sorcerer cried.

"This?" Yzma looked around in confusion. "THIS is what we suffered through that dull-as-a-rock ride for?"

"Can you even imagine what knowledge these books might hold?" Mozenrath rushed toward the nearest shelf, plucking a book from it and flipping through. "Locked up like this, after a passageway that showed us scenes from various different worlds? Whatever's in here is full of secrets that no one ever wanted us to find…and we just found them. All thanks to your little accident, Yzma."

"You're…welcome?" Yzma replied.

The Huntsman took a few steps out into the center of the library. "And how are we to know what we're looking for in all of this?"

"We don't," Mozenrath babbled. "But we know how to get here. And that means we can come back as many times as we want to look through these books. We could be on the verge of discovering all the secrets of the multiverse!"

"As good as it is to see you happily in your element," the Huntsman pointed out, "the rest of us don't have that sort of time to spare." He turned his gaze to the great blue stone. "Perhaps this crystal can give us the answers we are looking for. Given its position, it may serve as a guide to the library."

"Or it might just be for decoration," Yzma suggested.

Mozenrath looked up from his book to point a gaze at her. "No one puts an enormous crystal that size in the middle of a library for DECORATION aaaaaand I just realized who I'm talking to, and you would. But most people wouldn't put it here unless it had a purpose."

He strode toward the crystal, book held tightly in hand. "Now," he muttered, "I wonder what makes you do what it is you do."

The crystal seemed to pulse, as though it were water under glass, giving off light at all angles.

Mozenrath called to mind the spell he'd once used to bring the Book of Khartoum to life. He put his right hand up, palm out, toward the crystal, letting that very spell flow through his hand. "WORK," he commanded the crystal.

As the blue energy pierced the massive stone, a stream of it diverted to surround the book in Mozenrath's hand. The book levitated into the air; the stone glowed more brightly. Once the book had settled in front of the crystal, the rock's surface shimmered, transforming into new images. "All the multiverse as we know it is made up of stories," a pleasant voice sounded from the crystal.

"What – " Yzma began.

"SHHHH!" Mozenrath hissed, stepping closer to the crystal to look at the images contained on its surface. He was shown a view of several worlds hanging in interspace. The Huntsman and Yzma shuffled in behind him to see exactly what was going on.

"Every world is made up of stories," the voice went on, "and new worlds are created as new stories are told. Some worlds play host to the intersection of stories. But there is only one world where all stories are born, and one world that all the other worlds owe their existence to." The scene changed to a dizzyingly tall tower of luminous white, the size of an entire city, standing upon a field. "That world is Fantastica.

"Fantastica is the heart of the multiverse, for it is the heart of all stories. And at the heart of Fantastica is the Empress. The Empress has gone by many different names, granted to her by many different storytellers." The scene shifted to a tiny blonde girl sitting within a bone-white pavilion, looking out over the vista of Fantastica she could see from within her sanctuary and smiling. "But one day, a storyteller came along who named her Moon Child. He saved Fantastica, and with it the known multiverse, from coming to an end. However, when he arrived within Fantastica, Moon Child disappeared without an explanation." The image of the girl faded until it was simply an empty pavilion.

The crystal continued: "The storyteller traveled far and wide across the infinite land of Fantastica, telling stories as he went in order to shape the world." The image was now that of a boy crossing various landscapes. "Sometimes, as he entered a world, he would better it." A silver city was shown bustling with people; the image zoomed in on one building, where citizens entered empty-handed and exited with armfuls of books. "But sometimes, his decisions were thoughtless, and they left Fantastica worse off." The whole city's skyline was shown once more, and the silver had tarnished and begun to crumble.

"One day, the storyteller attempted to assume the throne the Empress had left behind." The boy was shown on a throne made of mirrors, and Mozenrath couldn't help but notice the woman at the side of the throne's arm: her long red hair exactly matched the scarlet of her gown, and even from a distance, it was possible to see that she had heterochromia – one scarlet eye and one bright emerald one. "He was led to this decision in part by an evil witch who helped him gain favor with the public and arranged for his coronation, but in the end, the fault was his own. However, he was defeated and sent away." Another boy challenged the would-be emperor to a duel; the latter drew his sword only for the blade's metal to corrupt and break down. "In the end, he returned to his own world…" He was shown bathing in a white fountain before rushing toward a gate of light. "…But not without leaving several stories unfinished, and a friend vowing to finish them in his place." The "friend" shown was the boy who had triumphed over the young storyteller in battle. "To this day, many stories remain unfinished in Fantastica, and Moon Child is still nowhere to be found."

The scene changed to the very library in which Mozenrath stood. "Enchancia is the home of the Storykeeper. When the Storykeeper is first chosen to bear the Amulet of Avalor, they are responsible only for finishing the stories within Enchancia. As they grow older, they become responsible for finishing the stories of multiple worlds. The stories of Fantastica are perhaps the most important of all, and should only be taken on by a Storykeeper who believes themselves truly ready for the task. Until then, its myriad tales shall be told another time. And all of storydom who truly wish to enter Fantastica shall find a way there."

The images faded from the crystal, leaving pulsating blue once more. The book dropped onto the floor. Mozenrath, Yzma, and the Huntsman stared in awe. Yzma was the first to break the silence: "I'm pretty sure that wasn't meant for us."

"Do you realize what we've just learned?" Mozenrath asked, practically trembling from the revelations.

"A great much about our existence," the Huntsman answered. "I find it rather concerning that we may, in the grand scheme, be only playthings to certain ambitious storytellers."

"NOT THAT," Mozenrath growled, turning to face his companions. "The Empress of ALL OF EXISTENCE TOLD IN STORIES, INCLUDING OUR WORLDS, is missing. Fantastica is repairing itself from some wannabe emperor ruining it. This is our chance to take the most important throne there ever will be. Imagine if WE ran Fantastica. Think of what we could do if WE took over THE BIRTHPLACE OF ALL STORIES."

"It can't be easy," the Huntsman cautioned. "But I can see there's no talking you out of this."

"We might not even NEED the conquest spell anymore if we can pull this off," Mozenrath gushed, breaking out into a wide and honest smile.

"And how are you suggesting we even find this world?" Yzma asked. "We don't know the way!"

"Someone wasn't paying attention." Mozenrath wagged a finger in her face. "Anyone in another story who truly wishes to enter Fantastica can find the way there."

His mere speaking of the words triggered a glow in the library; suddenly, a part of space seemed to melt away, forming a portal to somewhere else without the use of Darkness. Mozenrath gestured to the newly opened door; "I rest my case."

"Should we gather any of the others?" the Huntsman asked. "This mission seems far too complex to take with only three."

"By the time we go back to get them, the portal might close!" Yzma hissed. "Besides, I don't want Snipe sticking his nose into things and botching them up. We can just do what we always do and pick up a stray once we get there."

"I would like to know more about that witch in red," Mozenrath confessed. "If she was so eager to crown one emperor, we might be able to talk her into another. If she's reasonable, that is. Beyond that…Huntsman, do you really doubt me that much?"

"'Doubt' is not the word," the Huntsman explained. "I have more than enough faith in you, and you should know that well by this point. I simply want to be prepared in case of extenuating circumstances like those we faced in Atmos."

"And what happened when we were up against impossible odds in Atmos?" Mozenrath prodded.

"We…left with what we came for," the Huntsman admitted.

"We'll be fine," Mozenrath insisted. "I could even do this with one hand tied behind my back. Of course, it would have to be the left one…"

The Huntsman found himself with a rather strange sensation. He had faith enough in Mozenrath, but he had also seen the sorcerer defeated by Piper and heard tell of the same happening when Mozenrath had gone up against Sora in Radiant Garden. He was now infinitely glad he'd agreed to come along on this mission. This way, he could…he hesitated to think the words. "Protect Mozenrath." Protecting was something he wasn't used to doing, or even wanting to do. But the raven-haired sorcerer was valuable to him, more so than anyone he'd ever met among the Huntsclan. His grip tightened on the huntstaff. He vowed then and there to cut down anything and everything in Mozenrath's way.

Yzma, on the other hand, was thinking about what decorations and frivolities would be necessary for a proper coronation after a violent usurping.

Mozenrath folded his arms. "The gauntlet isn't putting any skin back on my bones over here."

"Right," Yzma said, snapping out of her reverie of imaginary confetti and brass bands. "Onward!"

"Indeed," the Huntsman agreed.

The trio stepped out of the Enchancian library and into Fantastica, upon which the rift between the two worlds abruptly closed.


	28. New Friends and False Saviors

28\. New Friends and False Saviors

A fortress shaped like a giant outstretched hand, its finger-towers reaching up into the sky, glimmered with a thousand windows reminiscent of staring eyes. It was surrounded by a forest adorned with orchids a million strong in various colors.

"Well, what do you suppose this is?" Mozenrath looked curiously at the strange castle.

"It almost seems to have been destined for you," the Huntsman observed. "What with it being a hand."

"So it does," Mozenrath agreed. "And I think you know what that means." He extended a hand toward the castle's gate.

The entryway exploded in a conflagration of blue energy. Mozenrath, the Huntsman, and Yzma strode confidently into the foyer, a grand, dark, arched room. "Knock, knock," Mozenrath announced. "You have company."

No one answered. No one could. The hall was completely empty.

"I SAID," Mozenrath repeated in a growl, "you have COMPANY."

There was still no response but a slight echo of Mozenrath's own voice bouncing off the walls.

"Maybe no one's home," Yzma said with a shrug.

"How can NO ONE BE HOME in a castle this size?" Mozenrath snapped.

"Search it," the Huntsman commanded, drawing his weapon. "We'll flush out anyone remaining here."

Mozenrath gestured to a doorway. "Huntsman, you take that door. Yzma, you take – "

"Splitting up?" Yzma interrupted. "REALLY? That's the WORST possible move, and you know it! That sets us up for some ridiculously overpowered monster to pick us off one by one! For all we know, this castle is a giant trap set up to lure us in and get us to split up inside! For all we know, this castle IS the monster, and it already ate us!"

"You think there's a monster that none of the three of us can handle alone," Mozenrath reiterated, deadpan.

Yzma put her hands on her hips. "Are you really going to risk it?"

Mozenrath thought it over. "We wouldn't have been in any real danger," he mused, "but I suppose we could all use the company. We search together."

"Company," Yzma repeated. "Of course. That's why."

Mozenrath shot her a glare that warned her to stop talking before she made any more insinuations that Mozenrath was, in fact, starting to worry about the off chance that the castle's owner had left a thirdac running around.

The rest of the castle seemed just as deserted as the entryway. It was also incredibly lavish. Silk drapes, ornaments of precious metals, instruments of Dark magic, crystals of all shapes and sizes, and plush furniture adorned every room. Whoever had left the castle behind had a definite preference for the colors red, black, and purple. Suits of armor vaguely shaped like bipedal beetles were lined up against the walls of the hallways, and Mozenrath could pick up the faintest hint of magic radiating off of them, but they remained still, and none of the three could figure out their significance.

"Whoever lives here," Yzma remarked, "I like their style! Perhaps, if they're not coming back, we could take it over."

"This castle does have a strangely homey feel to it," Mozenrath added. "You don't think the owner was a kindred spirit to us, do you?"

The Huntsman had walked ahead into the next room. "I believe this may be a clue toward your answer," he observed, looking at something on the wall.

Yzma and Mozenrath followed to find the Huntsman staring at an enormous oil portrait that stretched across the wall from ceiling to floor, framed in elegantly wrought coral. The subject of the portrait was a woman dressed in purple, her hair braided up into a complex coiffure; most striking of all was her heterochromia, with one eye red as her hair and the other green as emerald.

"The witch from the story in the library," Mozenrath realized. "This must be her fortress. I have to say I'm already impressed."

"Yes, yes," Yzma waved off, "but where IS she? Why did the library take US here when SHE isn't? Let alone literally anyone else!"

As if to answer the question, there was a great loud sound – the combination of booming voices and heavy footfalls – emanating from the direction of the entryway. "We're not alone," Mozenrath stated with a smirk. He put up a hand, forming a small portal that allowed himself, Yzma, and the Huntsman to look upon the foyer from a bird's-eye view without its new intruders ever noticing.

The newcomers formed a trio, all wearing shining armor and carrying swords and shields, with bows and arrows slung across their backs. One was thick with muscles. One was short and slight, with red hair. And one was tall and lean, looking as if you could snap his arm in two simply by seizing it, though given the bearing with which he carried himself, this was obviously not the case.

"Do you really think he's here?" the redhead asked.

"He hasn't been anywhere else we've looked," the thin one pointed out.

"Someone broke down the door," the muscular one observed. "You don't suppose it was him?"

"They don't look very magical," Mozenrath whispered to his own companions. "I don't think an ambush should be too hard."

"We'll make short work of this," the Huntsman agreed in a whisper.

"Say when," Yzma replied, drawing her atlatl.

"Ladies first," Mozenrath replied. "Also, 'when.'"

A dart came sailing down from the ceiling, causing the three armed men to scatter as it planted harmlessly into the ground. Yzma gritted her teeth and clenched her fists, making growls of frustration.

The next thing to drop from the ceiling wasn't so harmless. The Huntsman himself, staff blazing, plummeted, striking out at the muscular man. The warrior's sword was raised to block the staff; as the Huntsman landed on his feet, his weapon clashed repeatedly with the blade of his opponent. Yzma came dropping next, pinning the redhead to the ground and using him to cushion her fall. She aimed a punch to his face; he rolled, shaking her off, and dealt her a blow with his shield that sent her staggering. Meanwhile, the thin warrior rushed the Huntsman from behind, forcing the Huntsman to abandon his duel and sidestep a few paces to avoid being impaled.

Watching from above, waiting to make his next move, Mozenrath realized quickly that this trio was made up of no ordinary warriors. They were a match for the Huntsman, and utterly besting Yzma, who was getting thrown about the field and scurrying to avoid chopping blades. However, the one thing all three seemed to lack was any sort of magic. Mozenrath's eyes flitted about the room, seeking out whatever tools the witch who owned the hand-shaped fortress had left behind.

A host of spears then came raining down from above, luminously blue, circling the trio of warriors and fencing them in, forcing them back-to-back-to-back. They tried to strike out at the levitating, spinning spears, but the weapons blazed with a thick magical energy that repelled their blades and shields. Mozenrath chose that moment to reposition the portal so that he could step out onto stable floor rather than dropping from the ceiling. The warriors could see that his right hand was glowing the same shade of blue that clothed the spears. "Before you ask," he said tauntingly, "yes, I'm the one making the spears levitate. But no, I'm not the one making them repel your swords. THAT was conveniently there beforehand." He then turned to the Huntsman; "You brought healing potions?"  
The Huntsman produced one from a pocket; Mozenrath flicked it at the rather battered Yzma, who gulped it down thirstily.

"Who ARE you?" the muscular warrior demanded. "Speak, villains!"

"I am Mozenrath," Mozenrath introduced. "Soon to be lord of Fantastica. These are my companions, Yzma and the Huntsman. And you would be?"  
"Who we are isn't your business!" the thin warrior snapped.

"Well, that's rude," Mozenrath scoffed. "After I was polite enough to tell you our names and what we're doing here. And apparently WE'RE the villains in this scenario?"

"I am Hysbald," the redhead said at last. "My companions are Hykrion – " With his head, he indicated the muscular warrior. "And Hydorn." His head tilted toward the thin warrior. "We were former companions of the Savior, Bastian Balthazar Bux. He disappeared after the great Battle of the Ivory Tower, and we seek him. We thought he might have returned here, to the site of one of his great victories, where he acquired his traveling companion Xayide."

"Xayide," Mozenrath repeated; the name rolled off the tongue pleasantly. "That would be the witch who lives here?"

"Lived," Hykrion corrected. "Xayide is now dead, though no one can explain exactly how."

"Tell me more about this Xayide," Mozenrath demanded. "You say she was a companion to the savior."

"We once thought she was an evil witch," Hydorn began.

"Actually," Hysbald admitted, "there were those who believed she never stopped being evil, but we have no proof one way or the other."

"When the Savior began his journey through Fantastica to meet the Childlike Empress," Hykrion continued, "he came across this fortress, Horok. It was here that Xayide took us prisoner, and he launched an invasion upon the castle to save us. Xayide admitted her defeat and threw herself at the Savior's feet, begging his mercy and swearing her loyalty to him. Then she joined us on our quest."

"She attempted to help crown our Savior the new emperor of Fantastica," Hydorn spat. "Something YOU can never be! Only Bastian was meant to be such a thing!"

Mozenrath was reminded of the narration the great crystal in the Enchancian library had provided for him in regards to the coronation, and he began to put two and two together. "You know," he remarked, "I'm starting to think maybe we should arrange a little friendly reunion between you and Xayide."

"Don't you dare lay a finger on her!" Hykrion hissed.

"I won't," Mozenrath promised, smirking. "If anything, it'll be a spear." He pulled a single spear out of the circling ring, holding it tightly in his right hand. He then leaned it against the wall, picking out an appropriate spot to conduct his spell.

"You're sure about this?" Yzma asked him, fixing him with a pointed glare.

"Mostly," Mozenrath told her. "But more importantly, it's worth a shot, isn't it?"

The Huntsman tightened his grip on his weapon just in case.

Mozenrath drew his right hand in an upward direction, and a form rose from a circle of blue on the floor, rising to human height. As it solidified, it took the form of the woman from the upstairs portrait. She blinked her eyes open; the red and green irises glowed even more brightly, like gems beneath sunlight, in person. Surprised, she extended her hands to look at them, then twirled a slow circle, looking down at her body.

"I'm alive…" she muttered.

"Just so you know, you have me to thank for that," Mozenrath told the woman. "Xayide, if I'm not mistaken?"

Xayide completed her twirl, halting to look Mozenrath directly in the eye with her piercing gaze. "You're not mistaken at all," she stated. "And who are you to bring me back from the world of the dead?"

"The next prospective emperor of Fantastica," Mozenrath told her. "Though you can address me as 'Mozenrath.' I'm planning to take this whole world by storm, and I'm going to do it with my friends Yzma and the Huntsman here at my side. However, these three trespassers who thought they could just waltz in and do whatever they liked in your fortress once you were dead seem to have a problem with me doing that."

"…A new emperor?" Xayide's eyes sparkled. "This is a surprising development." She tilted her head, examining Mozenrath. "You aren't a Fantastican," she noted. "No Fantastican would propose such an act against the Childlike Empress. However…" She tilted her head the other direction; it was a miracle that her hair stayed perfectly coiffed in place. "You aren't human, either."

"What do you mean, I'm not HUMAN?" Mozenrath growled.

"None of you are," Xayide stated. "I had thought there were only two sorts: Fantasticans and humans. You…are something else."

"We are purely human," the Huntsman snarled, "magical or otherwise, and I won't stand for any suggestion that we are anything lesser."

Xayide very nearly told the Huntsman that she was hardly one to classify whatever he was as something 'lesser' based on her observation alone, but she could tell from the tone of his voice and the fire in his eyes that such talk might get her thrown right back where she came from in the land of the dead. She had accepted her fate at long last, but the idea of a new emperor, someone to walk Bastian's trail and pick up where he left off, gave her a renewed sense of being. "You won't be able to do it alone, you know," she said sweetly. "Not just the three of you. You'll need followers. You'll need a silver tongue to convince Fantastica that you are the new Saviors."

"Gee, I wonder where we could find a magical campaign manager who knows the lay of the land to guide us along?" Mozenrath teased.

"Don't listen to him, Xayide!" Hysbald pleaded. "Remember Bastian! Remember your friends! Remember US!"

"You have strong enough magic to defeat him!" Hydorn urged. "Slay him, and free us!"

Xayide turned to the three captives with an even more sickeningly sweet smile upon her face. "Friends," she repeated. "Now that Bastian is gone forever, there is no more point in pretending."

There came the sound of an army of metal footsteps marching in unison. A battalion of the buglike suits of armor Mozenrath, the Huntsman, and Yzma had seen scattered throughout the fortress came striding into the room. They easily plucked Mozenrath's spears away from the warriors…only to surround the three men themselves, removing their weapons and subduing them, gripping them tightly.

"All this time?" Hysbald moaned. "It was a charade?"

Xayide nodded. "I'll give you time to figure it out in the dungeons."

The armor bore Hykrion, Hysbald, and Hydorn away, out of sight and out of mind.

A few suits lingered behind, and Mozenrath ran a finger down the side of one of them. "Interesting constructs," he muttered. "I take it they're completely empty."

"They are powered by my will," Xayide told Mozenrath. "They do as I wish. What power do you bear that allowed you to best Hykrion, Hysbald, and Hydorn?"  
Mozenrath raised his right hand. "This." With a flick of the wrist, he split the suit of armor into pieces, causing it to collapse. "Just a little something to remember in case you get in the mood to trick me the same way you tricked them. But that won't be a problem, will it? Because you and I both know you want someone to take the throne of Fantastica. You practically want to take it yourself. You help me, and you get what you want. Fairly simple concept, don't you think?"

"It sounds almost too good to be true," Xayide admitted. "But I will go with you. I wish to see where your journey ends. Perhaps you will succeed where Bastian Balthazar Bux failed. After all, I can tell you have a stronger will than he."

"You mentioned followers," Yzma brought up. "Where exactly are we supposed to find them?"

"You have to know where to look." Xayide grinned, her eyes twinkling. "And I do. Follow me."

Outside the fortress, a great covered litter, four times the size of an ordinary palanquin, carved of coral was borne by a host of the black suits of armor. Several more empty suits fell in step behind, ready to obey their mistress' whims. "If you trust me," Xayide urged, "step aboard."

"We don't yet trust you," the Huntsman growled. "But we are willing to accept your aid until such time comes as we can."

He, Mozenrath, Yzma, and Xayide climbed into the litter, which was laden with cushions on the inside. They settled back for a comfortable ride as Xayide announced, "The first stop on our journey is the Silver City of Amarganth. Or, I should say, the Formerly Silver City of Amarganth."

The armor took off at a quick clip, and the reserve troops followed close behind.

...

For the trip to Agrabah, Cid Highwind had arranged a rather vast Gummi ship that could seat all of the passengers he was taking. However, there was only one restroom aboard, and this soon led to trouble when Jaune became almost immediately airsick upon launch. Jaune had rushed to cling to the toilet, emptying out his stomach. But as the ship climbed higher and higher, leaving Radiant Garden behind to hurtle through the multicolors of interspace, it soon became apparent that Yuffie Kisaragi was indeed prone to airsickness as well, and she threw open the door to the small toilet room violently with a cry of "Move it!"

"Can't move it," Jaune moaned, still clinging to the bowl. "Too sick."

"Yeah, well, I need that WAY more than you right now!" Yuffie grabbed Jaune by the shoulders and wrestled him out of the room.

"HEY!" Jaune stumbled backward as Yuffie took his place, heaving her previous meal into the bowl. Spying Nora approaching, he called out, "Nora! She threw me out, and I NEED to use that room! You're gonna stand up for me, right?"

"Nope," Nora told him with a dismissive shake of the head. "I actually came here to get you out of the way." She shoved Jaune lightly, indicating he should find somewhere else to be sick.

"WHAT?" Jaune was stunned. "WHY?"

"Because Yuffie's sick, that's why!" Nora barked.

Jaune shuffled back to his seat, clamping his lips shut so that no fluids escaped him and ended up in an inappropriate place.

"Yuffie?" Nora crouched outside the restroom. "You okay in there?"

"Yeah," Yuffie called back. "I'm fine. I'm just – " She was interrupted by another stomach upset.

"I'm right here for ya if you need me, okay?" Nora told her.

Yuffie pushed the door open just enough to see Nora through the crack of it. "Thanks," she said gratefully.

Back at his seat, Jaune was focusing on his churning stomach, shutting his eyes and wallowing in misery. A sudden voice jarred him; "Jaune? Are you okay?"

Jaune looked up to see Kairi regarding him with some concern. "No," he moaned. "I'm trying not to throw – " He was overtaken by a wave of nausea, and clamped his hand over his mouth. After a moment of panic, he removed it long enough to say, "You should probably leave if you don't wanna get thrown up on."

Instead of doing as Jaune suggested, Kairi sat right down next to him, reaching over to gently rub her hand over the back of his shoulder that was exposed by his armor. "Does this feel better or worse?" she asked softly.

"Better," Jaune replied, his own voice quiet.

"Just breathe slowly," Kairi advised him. "Count to three while you breathe in and out. That'll help."

It took a few counts of three before Jaune noticed that his nausea was rolling out ever so slightly. "Thanks," he said somewhat sheepishly.

"It's okay," Kairi assured him. "I used to get sick on long boat rides before I got used to them at the Islands. It happens to everybody sometime or another."

She was too kind, Jaune thought. He appreciated her greatly, and he found himself wanting to be in her company more and more. At the beginning, he'd been sure he would fall for her, but reality ensued; every time he felt that he'd drawn closer to Kairi, Pyrrha's eyes would suddenly surface in his mind's eye, or her long red ponytail would swing by in a sudden flash of memory. He couldn't give his heart away. Though, he supposed, he'd apparently put his stomach in Kairi's hands on this particular venture. He wanted to repay her in kind for comforting him. He wanted to repay her for much of how she'd treated him, and how she'd assisted him in battle after battle on Remnant.

Cid's eyes flicked back and forth between the view out the front window of the incoming obstacles he had to steer around and down at the monitors on the dashboard. It wasn't long before he felt a looming presence behind him; someone was peering over his shoulder. "Y'know how goddamn creepy it is when ya do that?" he snapped without even looking.

"She's even more beautiful than Sora's ship," Stork said by way of reply.

"Who, the ship?" Cid nearly laughed. "Made her myself. Put a lot of sweat into these gears."

"You…BUILT…this?" Stork was awed. "Atmos could use more engineers like you."

"Heh…maybe sometime I'll pay 'em a visit and show 'em a thing or two about how to put together an airship," Cid mused.

"So is this how things are all the time for you?" Stork asked. "This crazy, I mean. With all of them."

"Yeah. Pretty much," Cid confirmed. He took a slight moment to look back over his shoulder before turning his focus back to the path ahead. It was enough to take it all in: Nora talking to Yuffie through the restroom door. Kairi comforting Jaune. Luna and Ren silently looking out the windows at the colors and the interstellar formations that flew by. Xander, Madison, Chip, Ruby, and Papyrus starting up a game of I Spy with the limited objects on board the ship ("Something…red!" "IS IT RUBY'S CAPE?" "Nope." "IS IT MY CAPE?" "…Yes."). Cadance trying to urge Nick to join in the fun, then eventually giving up and just joining the game on her own when Nick refused. "Bet you never have to put up with this."

"Oh, you'd be surprised," Stork sighed. "Back home, I'm a pilot for what must be THE most aggravating crew in the entire Atmos. But…they're also the best crew in the entire Atmos."

"You care about them a lot, don't'cha?"

"Yeah. Lemme guess: you know because…"

"'Cause I care about them," Cid confirmed, giving a nod back to the passengers of his ship. "And most of all the Committee. I'll tell ya somethin' if ya promise not to repeat it."

"My lips are sealed," Stork vowed.

"Sometimes…" Cid admitted, "I do feel kinda like their dad. Like they're all my kids. Yuffie, Aerith, and Leon. I get worried for 'em when shit happens. And now they made me adopt Lea, Ienzo, Aeleus, Dilan, and Even, and that just went and made me worry about THEM. Ridiculous, ain't it? Even's as old as I am, and here I am tryin' not to let it show that I'm freakin' out 'cause he up and got himself on the wrong side of Maleficent. And I'm scared to death that the same thing's gonna happen to one of the others. But ya can't let fear run ya, y'know?"

"Actually, you can," Stork replied. "You just have to learn how to live with it. It can make you more careful. Better prepared to deal with things."

"Hadn't thought of it that way," Cid admitted, "but I don't think I'm gonna let it get to me, all the same. For their sake. What about you? You get nervous about yours?"

"I only know for sure that two of them are alive," Stork admitted. "Of the Storm Hawks, anyway. And I'm currently plagued by continual visions of how those two will meet their terrible and grisly end without me there to help them. But now I have Sora, Ruby, and Papyrus to look after, and they're probably even WORSE without me. They need me, and…I…well, I need them. They pulled me back from the edge." He gave a short, nervous laugh. "Literally."

"They take people like us for granted," Cid huffed.

"Yeah," Stork agreed.

"But it's worth it."

Stork smiled. "Yeah."

After a while, Stork pointed out, "You didn't mention Merlin."

"That's because he can go fuck off," Cid replied. Stork waited until Cid sighed and admitted, "Okay, things wouldn't be the same without that old loon around, either. But don't you go tellin' HIM that!"

"Lips still sealed," Stork vowed.

Nick finally decided he was in the mood to socialize, but as ridiculous as the game of I Spy was getting, he still didn't want to join in. Instead, he made his way to Ren and Luna. "Looks pretty unreal, doesn't it?" he greeted.

Ren nodded. "I saw a bit of this on the trip to Radiant Garden. But it's still amazing."

"Kinda reminds me of when I used to travel," Nick recalled. "I saw a lot of different places on the road. Nothing like this, though."

"You traveled around your world?" Ren asked. "Why?"  
"Well, I didn't think I had anyone," Nick told him. "No friends, no parents. So it just became me, my bike, and the open road. That all changed when I pulled into Briarwood. I found friends there, and my real parents, too. It ended up not being the place I wanted to stay, but it did turn into the place I always wanted to come back to. I still ride, but this time, Mom and Dad come with me. And no matter how far we go, we always come back to Briarwood."

"You're lucky," Ren told him.

"Why?" Nick asked.

"Because…" It took Ren a moment to find the words. "Because you're lucky enough to get to travel with your parents."

"Your parents are homebodies?" Nick guessed.

"My parents are…gone," Ren answered.

"Oh," Nick said somberly. "Sorry, man."

"As am I," Luna piped in.

"It's okay," Ren assured Nick and Luna. "I miss them, and I wish they were still around. But at least I have some good friends, too. They're like my family now."

"Friendship is one of the most potent magics of all," Luna confirmed. "I have witnessed this firsthand. I think we are all very lucky that we can take this journey together and use the time to make new friends."

"Real lucky," Nick agreed.

Ren just gave a nod and a sincere smile. Then the three went back to gazing out the windows as the Gummi ship continued on.

...

Though as the ragtag band of heroes made their way to the Seven Deserts, they were unaware that the enemy had long beaten them to that world.

A Corridor of Darkness emptied out two tall figures in the atrium of the Citadel of the Black Sands. "Yeesh," Hades remarked, looking around. "What, was this guy tryin' to go for some sorta neo-Underworld color scheme? Because it isn't quiiiiiiite there. Missing a bit of that homey morbid flavor, ya dig?"

"A lackluster abode for a pathetic excuse for a sorcerer," Jafar spat. "Still, it is the closest territory we have in possession to Agrabah, and that is its real value. Not to mention the army it comes outfitted with."

"You have any idea HOW uncomfortable I am working with zombies?" Hades iterated. "They're supposed to be DEAD. They're supposed to be in MY realm. End of story. But, fine, whatever, okay, you and Malef seem to think they're gonna be useful, so I won't drag them down where they belong THIS time…"

"The Mamluks will provide an excellent line of defense," Jafar pointed out. "Not to mention the entire city is outfitted with crystals that alert its residents to the presence of magic. I would almost call the idea clever if it weren't Mozenrath. And speaking of which, this will be the perfect place to begin our search."

Hades and Jafar had been dispatched to the Black Sands to seek a method of transmuting the captive Keyblades into pure magic that Maleficent could absorb. The Seven Deserts, as all of Maleficent's cohorts either knew or were informed, were nearly bursting with magic of all flavors. If a magical conundrum existed, it was highly likely that a solution to it could be found in the Seven Deserts.

"You don't really think the kid had the answer, do ya?" Hades asked as he and Jafar moved down the hall, looking for anything that could be of use. They opened one door into a room that featured a round table with a map of the Seven Deserts carved into it; the pair began plucking books off shelves here. "I mean, he would've used it if he had it, right?"

"I highly doubt Mozenrath knew how to absorb the magic of Keyblades," Jafar answered, flipping through a tome. "However, I would not be surprised if he were sitting on the answer without even being aware of it."

A third voice pierced the conversation: "A very good observation. Perhaps I can be of some assistance?"

It took Jafar and Hades some time to locate the voice; they eventually located a book with a face on it lying near the map table. "What the Tartarus?" Hades asked as he picked the book up by one cover, letting the pages fan out to see that here and there, some were ripped.

"I will kindly ask you to put me down," the book said gruffly. "Unless you DON'T want to know how to convert Keyblades into magical energy."

"Whoa, dial back the sass a couple notches, will ya?" Hades set the book down. "So whaddaya know that we don't?"

"The knowledge you seek used to be contained within my pages," the book told Hades. "As did a number of other complex spells. However, my pages have been plundered, and many torn out. I do, however, remember the spell you need. And I will provide it for you on the terms that you do something for me."

"No promises," Hades replied, "but whaddaya thinkin'?"

"Free me," the book asked. "Give me back my human body. Release me from the cover of this book, and I shall help you."

"Leave the book alone," Jafar said sharply. "Or better yet, burn it."

"What, you know this guy?" Hades asked.

"The sorcerer Khartoum," Jafar spat. "He is nothing but a liar and a deceiver. No sooner would we set him free than he would find a way to use it to his advantage, and against ours. He is no doubt lying about his knowledge in order to tempt you."

"You have no proof that I am lying," Khartoum said smugly. "There is only one way to find out."

"Sorry, babe." Hades lit up his thumb as one would a match. "But if Jaffie says you gotta burn, then burn, baby, burn."

"Then burn me," Khartoum spat. "It would be preferable to suffering life as the cover of this wretched book."

Hades' lit thumb was inches away from the tome's cover before Jafar put up a hand, signaling Hades to halt. Jafar picked up the book, giving Khartoum a wicked leer. "You most certainly shouldn't have said that," Jafar told the trapped sorcerer. "We can't simply give you what you want. No, I have a much better idea in mind."

He began to take books down from the shelf. Then, when a sizeable space had been cleared, he lay the Book of Khartoum flat with its back against the back of the shelf.

Khartoum knew then what Jafar was about to do. "This won't be the last you hear of the great Khartoum," he growled.

"I'm certain it won't be," Jafar assured Khartoum. "After all, we could discuss how pathetic you are for hours on end." And with that, he reshelved all the books right in front of Khartoum, blocking the book off and sealing it in darkness.

"He was that annoying, huh?" Hades asked.

"More than annoying," Jafar said soberly. "No doubt he somehow already has some sort of destructive scheme in motion."

As Jafar and Hades exited the room to seek elsewhere, Khartoum muttered to himself, "You have no idea."

...

In the absence of Mozenrath, the Huntsman, and Yzma, most of the other residents of the Cyclonian warship decided to meet in the control room to discuss their next move. Vexen and Ravess were absent, the former wanting to spend time alone with his experiments while the latter wished to practice her violin. The others began pitching ideas as to what they could accomplish.

"We could always try to hunt down another artifact," Wuya suggested.

"Where would we even begin?" Snatcher asked her.

"Pick a world, any world," Wuya told him. "There's bound to be something magical on MOST of them."

"Or we could just start up another karaoke session," Aghoul proposed.

"Karaoke?" Snipe said in disgust. "That's no fun! Where's the action in that? Where are the explosions? You know what's REALLY fun? Moto-jousting!"

"Moto-whatnow?" Roman asked.

"Two people get on skimmers in their bike configuration," Snipe explained. "Then they battle until one of them gets knocked off! It usually ends in broken bones. It's great!"

"That sounds altogether too dangerous of a pastime to indulge in at the moment," Snatcher complained.

"I thought we were all about danger!" Snipe argued.

"I'm actually kinda on board for this," Roman admitted. "You mean skimmers like the ones we have here in the base, right?"

"Are we really having this discussion?" Wuya sighed.

Irmaplotz held up a hand. "Hang on. This could actually be interesting."

"You wanna joust me?" Snipe laughed. "I'd crush you like a bug!"

"Okay, that's it!" Roman marched right over to Snipe, staring him down. "You're on! I'll joust you, and I'll kick your ass doing it!"

"Torchwick, I wouldn't…" Snatcher sighed. "There's no stopping you at this point, is there?"

"Well, Snipe did say there would be broken bones!" Mim chirped. "This sounds like it's going to be fun to watch!"

"It could be a nice distraction," Wuya admitted.

"Maybe one of you will even die!" Aghoul said gleefully.

"Probably shouldn't do that until the guy who can actually necromance us back comes back," Irmaplotz pointed out.

"Oh," Aghoul replied. "Right."

A few moments later, the group had reassembled in a lower arena. Two skimmers had been brought up from the hangar and positioned for Snipe and Roman to do battle. As the combatants approached their vehicles, the others stood against the wall, observing with interest. Neo had found the time to make a "GO ROMAN" sign, which she held high.

Roman flashed Snipe a confident smirk as he mounted his skimmer, clutching the Melodic Cudgel tightly with one hand as he draped the other over the steering mechanism. "You know what they say," he mocked. "The bigger they come, the harder they fall."

"Well, y'know what I say?" Snipe boarded his own skimmer, raising his mace high. "Go big or go home!"

"Gentlemen," Snatcher announced. "On your marks…"

Roman's grip tightened on the wheel.

"Get set…"

Snipe's skimmer barged ahead, and he took a great swing at Roman, who only swerved just in time.

"FOUL PLAY!" Snatcher barked, but Snipe didn't care. The purple-haired strongman swiped at Roman again and again, forcing the redhead to go on the defensive. As soon as Roman got far away from Snipe, however, he was able to fire a shot – a shot that missed, sailing right past Snipe and causing Irmaplotz, Yzma, and Aghoul to duck in order to avoid being engulfed in flames. The wall behind them took the brunt of it.

Wheels squeaked against the floor and engines revved as Snipe and Roman danced around each other, swinging their weapons wildly; neither could land a blow. Snipe finally got a lucky shot, swiping the side of Roman's skimmer at an angle that sent the vehicle skidding sideways out of the arena and into the adjacent room. Muttering "NononononoNONONONONO," Roman fought with the skimmer to keep its balance upright; miraculously, it skidded to a halt without tipping. Roman realized he was in the entry room to the laboratory; the dual levers presented themselves next to him.

As Snipe zoomed into the chamber, Roman yanked the correct lever, sending him flipping around with the wall and landing the skimmer on the rollercoaster track, down which he began to zoom. Snipe followed suit, landing just behind Roman on the track.

"AFTER THEM!" Wuya yelled, but by the time the crowd was able to catch up, both were already on the other side of the wall.

"So…should we go after them?" Irmaplotz asked.

"Not unless you want to stuff all of us in a single rollercoaster cart that would inevitably overtake both of them in speed and crush them," Wuya replied dryly.

"That sounds like fun!" Mim chirped.

Down in the laboratory, Vexen was in the midst of a complex procedure: the sort where liquids had to be measured in eyedroppers rather than graduated cylinders. As he dripped a purple substance into a beaker, he slowly became aware of a soft sound working its way into his conscious perception: the sound of a violin playing. Curious, he set down the dropper and proceeded back into the depths of the lab. It was there that he found Ravess with a stand set up in front of her to hold sheet music, violin and bow in hand, playing her heart out.

"You play very well," Vexen commented.

Ravess was startled into almost breaking a string. "I didn't know you were here!" she replied. "I thought the room was empty. Which is of course why I thought it would be a good place to practice. I suppose you want me to leave you alone and stop annoying you with all this noise."

"Not so," Vexen told Ravess. "After all, they say that good music can stimulate the mind rather than dull it, and your violin talent is much more favorable for the intellect than what passes for the music taste of everyone else here. You may continue to play, and you may do so wherever you like."

"Well, thank you," Ravess said in near-shock. She set the violin back to her chin and resumed her playing.

It really was quite pleasant to listen to, Vexen thought as he returned to his work. Curious, Ravess moved closer to his table, continuing to play all the while, as she observed his process, grinding up a powder and turning up a burner. She found herself curious about what his end result was, but she knew better than to ask. Interrupting him for that would definitely annoy him, she figured.

Had she asked, though, he would gladly have told her. It was the least he could do to repay her providing him with such a peaceful soundtrack to work to.

Meanwhile, Snipe and Roman careened down the rollercoaster track, each trying to ram the other off the side but both holding their ground as the rush whipped at them. Roman's skimmer leapt off the end of the track a moment before Snipe's, and he zoomed into the laboratory itself, right into the area where Vexen was working and Ravess practicing. Snipe was hot on his back tire.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?" Vexen barked as he stood up sharply.

Rather than answer, Roman swung the Cudgel to smack Snipe in the stomach. It was like hitting a brick wall. Snipe broadsided Roman with the mace, and Roman went flying. Vexen and Ravess both dashed out of the way as Roman landed on the lab table, breaking every single implement made of glass.

"HA!" Snipe gloated. "I WIN! YOU LOSE! YOU'RE A LOSER! HAHAHAHAHA!" He quickly turned on a wheel and sped back out of the lab.

Vexen and Ravess, stunned into silence, slowly turned to look at Roman, who gave out a groan. "There is definitely broken glass in me," the redhead moaned.

"Don't you have Aura for that?" Vexen snapped. "Get OFF my table this INSTANT!"

Peeling himself laboriously off the table and picking out small glass shards, Roman muttered several curse words on his way out of the lab. His Aura began to kick in and heal his smaller injuries, but for a few moments, he walked with a definite limp.

"I should have warned you," Ravess sighed. "When it comes to my brother, things like this are not uncommon occurrences."

Vexen just stared forlornly at the table. Had he a heart still inside of him, he supposed he would have been legitimately sad to lose all of his progress.

Ravess patted him awkwardly on the shoulder, unsure of if it was appropriate. "There…there?"

"I suppose it's back to square one," Vexen sighed.

...

The small ship containing Mog, Sora, and Riku had made its landing on a world that Sora and Riku had to admit they hadn't even heard of before. "There are a few things I should explain, kupo," the Moogle, sporting a miniature tuxedo for the occasion, informed his human cohorts. "This town has two populations: one that lives aboveground and another that lives underground. They lived apart from each other for years and were afraid of each other. Those who lived aboveground treated the others cruelly, kupo. But only a short while ago, some things happened that caused the two populations to start to come together. Things are peaceful, for the most part, but I should still warn you that the humans who live in this town are still a little afraid of people who are different from them, kupo. Maybe it's a good thing that it isn't the humans we have come to see."

"Well, we'll just put our best foot forward," Sora resolved. "Like we always do."

"Maybe that's what you always do," Riku replied. "I'm not the best at that."

"Aw, c'mon, I heard everyone in the worlds we visited for the Mark of Mastery welcomed you with open arms!" Sora reminded his friend.

"Those people weren't real, remember?" Riku countered. "They were just dreams."

"Well, real people like you, okay?" Sora insisted. "Give yourself some credit!"

When he said it so confidently, Riku couldn't help but be convinced, and he gave Sora a nod with an affirming smile before Mog took up his flower bouquet and his wrench and the group disembarked.

Mog led Sora and Riku through green pastures populated by all manner of grazing cows before bringing them into the reaches of a city built around a hilltop. This town had not yet seen many modern conventions; the construction of its buildings reminded Sora and Riku of a less colorful, naked-of-neon-lights Traverse Town. Men dressed in sharp suits and women clothed in gowns with swishing skirts passed by on the winding cobblestone streets. Some of them gave suspicious sidelong glances at Mog, but eventually settled back into minding their own business.

"Welcome to Cheesebridge, kupo," Mog introduced.

"Huh," Sora commented. "Weird name. But I like it so far."

"Wait until you see where we are going, kupo!" Mog stopped at a circular metal grate set in the ground, beginning to pull it aside.

"Into the sewer?" Riku wondered out loud with obvious distaste.

"Well, it's not like it's the first sewer we've been in," Sora reminded him.

"It isn't a sewer, kupo," Mog explained, finally removing the cover all the way. "Follow me, and remember to have fun!" He gathered up the flowers and the wrench hopped down into the aperture revealed in the street.

Sora and Riku looked at each other. Sora gave a shrug; Riku responded with a less dramatic shrug. Then, one after the other, they descended after Mog.

True to Mog's word, the metal grate led not to the town's excess water but instead to a subterranean slope that Sora and Riku slid down like a playground slide; neither could suppress a laugh of joy. After a drop of some time, both were deposited in a vast cavern.

"Whoa…" Sora couldn't believe his eyes as he looked around. He hadn't kept track of how far down the slide had taken him, but it almost seemed like a place of this magnitude couldn't even fit below the town above. The cavern was crammed with mechanical wonders that boasted of civilization, from a gigantic piecemeal clock constructed of odds and ends to a water wheel that dipped in and out of a clear river that ran nearby. Here, there were electric lights by the hundreds, strung up along every wall and dotting the cavern roof like stars. This sector was even busier than the town above, filled with the hustle and bustle not of humans but of small gray trolls, each clothed in a cardboard box.

"I hear it was even more beautiful last year," Mog explained. "It was destroyed in between now and then. But the Boxtrolls have rebuilt nearly all of it."

"They did a good job," Riku commented.

Three of the Boxtrolls recognized Mog, rushing over to greet him in a language that Sora and Riku didn't know. Mog fluidly transferred his speech to the same language, though he had a definite burbling accent and still peppered his speech with many "kupo"s. The only word that Sora and Riku recognized, though at first they couldn't comprehend why, was "Fish."

The three trolls ran off immediately at the sound of the word, and within the span of a few minutes, a raspy voice called out across the cavern, "Mog? MOG!"

"FISH!" Mog replied, dropping the flowers and the wrench to zoom in the direction of the voice as quickly as his little wings would take him.

A Boxtroll who was slightly taller and leaner than most of the crowd, clad in a box that proclaimed the word "FISH" as well as a cartoonish depiction of a tuna, bolted across the cavern from the other end, and when he and Mog met, they practically collided in a tight embrace. Fish planted a welcoming kiss on the end of Mog's bulbous nose, to which Mog wiggled his wings excitedly. The two of them immediately began excitedly conversing in the Boxtroll language; Sora and Riku didn't have to understand the words to know they were discussing how good it was to see each other and catching each other up on the recent events of their lives.

"They're so cute together," Sora quietly gushed.

Riku just nodded, smiling as he watched the pair conversing.

Mog remembered his gifts, then went back to retrieve them and present them to Fish; Fish appreciated the flowers, but found the wrench the altogether more thoughtful gesture. Fish lamented for a while that he had nothing to give Mog in return this time, as he hadn't known Mog was coming, but Mog reassured him that he absolutely wasn't expecting anything in return. Then came the matter of the humans who had followed Mog down; Fish asked about them, and Mog explained that they needed the help of the Boxtrolls to recreate several lost articles that were either metal or mechanical in nature. Weapons, to be exact. Fish expressed surprise; he and his fellows didn't often build weapons. Mog explained further that some of these weapons were unlike any Fish had ever seen or even thought of before, his mind on Stormflower and Magnhild. Fish admitted he was eager to see what exactly Mog had in mind, and Mog led him to Sora and Riku, introducing them. He slipped back into Sora and Riku's native language to state, "Sora, Riku, this is Fish. He's the one who's very special to me."

"Nice to meetcha, Fish!" Sora crouched down to extend a hand, which Fish gladly shook, having picked up the custom from the humans aboveground.

"Same here," Riku added, kneeling and extending his own hand.

"I've told him all about your friends' missing weapons, kupo," Mog explained. "He's glad to help and is curious to see what you have in mind."

"Here!" Sora withdrew a roll of papers containing blueprints that Mog had drawn up based on the requests of the group. He knelt to lay them down on the ground and spread them out. "So…what do you think? Can you help us? Please?"

Fish looked with interest over them, but was soon stunned by how many there were. He stated something to Mog, who relayed the sentiment to Sora and Riku: "He didn't expect so many. This will take some time, kupo. But he says putting things like this together will be fun, especially if we all pitch in. And I think…" He transferred back to Fish's language to say the last part of the sentence: that he looked forward to spending the time bonding with Fish while building the various weapons. Fish, flustered, fought off a blush.

Then, to Sora and Riku's surprise, another human came upon them: a preteen boy with dark hair, wearing a box to complement the trolls' attire. "Mog!" he greeted. "You're back!" He then looked with surprise at Sora and Riku. "Oh, hello! Who are you, then? We don't often get humans down here, you know."

"I'm Sora!" Sora introduced, standing up to full height. "And this is my friend Riku. We're here to ask to have some things built."

"What sort of things?" the boy asked.

Fish drew the boy's attention toward the blueprints. "I see," the boy muttered. "Those are…very strange. Is that a crossbow?"

"Yeah," Riku confirmed. "They are pretty strange weapons. They're for some pretty strange friends. And that's what we like about them."

"You're not from around here, are you?" the boy asked. "You're from that same far-off town Mog is from."

"Sort of," Sora replied, unsure how much the people of this world knew about the existence of others.

"A different town," Mog confirmed. "On a different world."

"Oh, one of those!" the boy realized.

Mog turned to Sora and Riku. "I've told the Boxtrolls all about the world I come from, and some things about a few of the others. But the people aboveground aren't ready to hear that kind of thing yet."

"It was a little hard to take in at first," the boy admitted. "But really, it's just like thinking of it as a town that's very, very far away. When I was younger, I almost thought Cheesebridge was a whole other world from down here."

"I thought all the humans lived aboveground," Riku commented, looking over the boy. "Are you just visiting, or do you live here?" His eyes were fixed on the box that served as the boy's vest.

"I live down here," the boy confirmed. "I might be a human, but…well, I'm sort of not. I'm Eggs, by the way. Eggs the boxboy." Then, in a gesture that completely baffled Sora and Riku, he put up both hands and waved them in the air.

"No, no, nonononononono!" Fish laughed, putting out his right hand as a demonstration.

"Right, right." Eggs put out his right hand for first Riku, then Sora to shake. "I keep forgetting. Calling it 'shaking hands' is really quite confusing, after all."

"Huh," Sora realized. "Never thought of it that way." He experimentally put up his own hands and waved them. "This is 'shaking hands' too, isn't it?" He turned to Riku, waving his hands excitedly. "Nice to meet you, Riku!"

Riku bit his lip to keep from cracking up at the sight.

Eggs turned to Fish. "A bunch of us were going to go up above and see Winnie's next show," he explained. "We won't be gone long."

Fish made a reply of affirmation, then gestured to Sora and Riku. In the same language, Mog agreed.

"Good idea!" Eggs cried. He then looked to Sora and Riku; "They said they want to get started on your weapons, and if you don't want to stand around and wait or watch, then you should come up with me to see Winnie. She's my best friend, and she does put on very good shows. She tells stories all about our adventures."

"Sounds like fun!" Sora said with a nod. He looked to Mog and Fish, who were already poring over the blueprints. "You two have fun while we're gone, okay?"

Fish and Mog both nodded without looking up from the plans.

"This way!" Eggs beckoned, leading Sora and Riku on to another part of the cavern from which they could access a path to the surface.

"I have a lot of questions about this town," Riku admitted. "Why didn't the humans and the Boxtrolls get along? And what happened to change that?"

"Winnie's show answers all that," Eggs replied. "It's easier just to let her tell you."

"All right," Riku relented, though his curiosity was beginning to get the better of him.

...

Chip Thorn had always hated airplanes, and for a very particular reason. Whenever he was on an airplane and it landed, the sudden change in pressure would fill his ears with nothingness, rendering him partially deaf for a while. By the end of the day, the sensation of ears plugged with compressed air would be gone, and his ability to hear restored. However, this phenomenon still annoyed him and made him apprehensive every time he had to board an airplane.

It never occurred to him that interdimensional magical ships would have the same effect upon him when entering the atmosphere of a new world.

"SERIOUSLY, DOES ANYONE ELSE EVER HAVE THIS PROBLEM?" Chip complained as the entire group exited the ship.

"Sorry," Ruby told him with a shrug.

"WHAT?"

"I SAID SORRY!"

"OH. OKAY!"

It was about this time that Chip and Ruby took notice of where they actually were. The team assembled beneath a blue sky, before a great tan-colored wall with a massive gate carved into it. Beyond the gate, a city of sand-colored buildings, accented with multicolored awnings and carts, was visible beneath the gleaming sun.

"WHOA," Chip gasped. "THIS IS ALREADY AWESOOOOOME!"

"You need me here for anythin' else?" Cid asked. "Otherwise, I'll be back in three days by Radiant Garden time to get ya."

"We should be able to find out everything we need in that time," Luna told him, and those around her nodded in agreement.

"Yuffie?" Cid asked with a furrowed brow. "You remember what we talked about?"

"I don't just STEAL anymore!" Yuffie protested. "From people I like, anyway."

"Don't burn up out there, ya got it?" Cid said before turning back to the ship. And under his breath, so quietly the others couldn't hear, he muttered, "Things're gonna be real quiet without y'all."

"Well?" Nick took the lead of the group. "Let's go."

"WHAT?" Chip yelled back at him.

"I SAID LET'S GO," Nick practically growled.

The group moved into the city, where the main thoroughfare was lined with street vendors showing off goods that could only be found in Agrabah: exquisite pottery, necklaces of brilliant gems, swords with curved blades that had been wrought by the hands of masters. Street performers swallowed fire and belched it back out to lend the air a smoky scent. Through all of this, Ruby, Chip, and Papyrus couldn't hold themselves back from "LOOK AT THIS!" "LOOK AT THAT!" "THAT'S SO COOL!"

Madison took in a deep breath, closing her eyes momentarily as she took a few steps. "This place," she gushed. "There's just something about it. It feels so…so…"

"Magical?" Kairi supplied.

"That's exactly it," Madison realized. "Briarwood feels magical, too, but it's different here. It's like this whole planet is just full of magic."

"It practically is," Kairi confirmed. "There's magic around every corner here. Just wait until we get to the palace."

"What's there? Besides your friends."

"You'll see!"

Stork, in the meantime, was doing his best to avoid the things that made Agrabah interesting at all costs. The further they pressed on into the city, the thicker the crowds grew around them, and the more uncomfortable Stork was made by the sheer proximity to so many people he didn't know. He wormed his way into the center of his traveling party, practically hiding behind Jaune.

"You're not much of a social butterfly, are you?" Jaune asked.

"Eh…no," Stork replied.

"Fear not," Luna reassured him. "You shouldn't have to do much of the talking once we reach the palace."

"I think they have that covered," Ren said with a nod toward Chip, Ruby, and Papyrus, who were still gushing in awe over every little new thing they came across.

"They do," Stork agreed. "Very loudly."

At last, the large group reached the palace walls, where a host of guards lay in wait for them. The biggest and burliest of the guards stormed forth, putting out a hand and crying "HALT!" As he spoke, the others could see his missing teeth; "By what order do you come to the royal palace of Agrabah?"

"No order," Nick insisted. "We're here because we need to talk to Aladdin about something. And we're not going back until we do."

"Well, isn't that just peachy!" the guard spat. "Every peasant in town thinks they need to talk to the royal family about SOMETHING or another. And every evil sorcerer for miles around thinks attempting to walk up to the palace pretending to be a peasant who needs to talk to the royal family is worth a try! If you don't have orders to be here, then get back where you came from…" He withdrew his wickedly sharp sword. "Or I'll put you back myself."

"I didn't wanna fight," Nick replied sternly, bracing his body and putting up his fists, "but if that's the way you want it, then – "

Kairi pushed through the crowd to step in front of Nick. "They're with me, Razoul," she said confidently.

The guard's entire demeanor rippled. In place of his sneer was a rather sheepish look, and when he spoke, his growl had settled down into something more pleasant. "My apologies, your majesty!" He bowed deeply, sheathing his blade. "If I had known, I wouldn't have barred your entry. Please forgive me for being rude to you!"

This got everyone to look at Kairi with a sense of awe. Kairi simply smiled. "It's okay, Razoul. I get it. You were just trying to protect Aladdin and Jasmine. Don't worry about it. We've faced some pretty evil sorcerers ourselves. That's kind of why we're here, actually. We think someone who's been attacking us has a connection to Aladdin."

"Then by all means!" Razoul stood, gesturing to the palace gateway. He turned to bark an order to his fellow guards: "MOVE ASIDE!"

"Thanks, Razoul," Kairi said with a friendly nod. She then led the procession through the gate. Nick and Razoul traded an absolutely venomous glare; Vida followed Nick, telling Razoul, "I don't blame you. Nobody likes dealing with Nick when he's in a mood."

"I heard that," Nick called back to her.

"I DIDN'T," Chip said in genuine confusion.

"Just follow me," Kairi called back to the others. "I know the way!"

Kairi proceeded to bring the group through elaborate polished hallways adorned with intricate carvings. Every so often, an open door would provide a peek into a room filled with luxurious furniture and treasures of all sorts. Chip and Ruby's dialogue disintegrated into wordless squealing, and Yuffie had to remind herself that her thieving days were for the most part past.

"WOWIE!" Papyrus exclaimed as he looked around. "THIS IS ALL VERY AMAZING!" He stepped forward to catch up with Kairi. "BUT YOU MUST BE USED TO THIS, AS YOU ARE A PRINCESS YOURSELF."

"Not really," Kairi explained. "I mean, I've spent a lot of time in Radiant Garden's castle, but when I was young, I got transported away from my homeworld and ended up in the Destiny Islands. I actually grew up in an average house."

"HMMMM." Papyrus mulled it over. "I SEE." He turned to Cadance. "WHAT ABOUT YOU?"  
"I live in a palace," Cadance confirmed, "but it's a different kind of palace. Every palace is beautiful in its own way, and this one is LOVELY."

The company neared a towering set of double doors. From behind those doors, they caught the tail end of a sentence said by a male voice: "…of course could never be a replacement for him, but you must admit it is much quieter!"

"I wonder what they're talking about," Ruby muttered.

"Beats me," Chip said with a shrug. "Hey! My ears are clear!"

Nora gave him a high-five over that.

Kairi pushed open the double doors only for a clockwork seagull to nearly clip her hair as it soared around the room. She watched the bird fly back to the person who'd wound it up: a short, stout old man clad in white, standing in the center of what was apparently the throne room, where the throne itself was carved in the shape of a golden elephant's head and dominated the round chamber. "Oh, my!" the old man gasped as he collected his new toy in his arms. "I didn't mean for my little toy to hurt…you…" His eyes widened as he recognized the person who had entered. "Why, Kairi!"

A chorus of "Kairi?" went up from around the room: from a tall man dressed in white and violet, from a young ponytailed woman clad in a sea green crop top and pants, from the Genie whom Ruby, Stork, and Papyrus remembered from the battle in Atmos. Even a small brown monkey on the man's shoulder seemed to chirp the name. This was then followed by a "Wait. Who's Kairi?" coming from a bushy-haired young woman dressed in a loose green top and baggy pants.

Xander's eyes were immediately drawn to the tall man, his gaze tracing over his defined chest, strong arms, radiant brown skin tone, and stunningly raven-black hair. "How about who's HE?" Xander asked.

"We have kind of a lot of introductions to make," Kairi laughed. "Why don't you start?"

The (incredibly attractive, as Xander would describe him) tall man began; "Sure! I'm Aladdin, prince of Agrabah. Formerly just prince of thieves."

"My name is Jasmine," the woman with the ponytail picked up. "Princess of Agrabah. Kairi and I know each other from some certain grand adventures through the worlds."

"So when you two say prince and princess," Xander asked as clarification, "you mean like brother and sister, or…?"

"Happily married!" Genie exclaimed, rushing up from behind to put his arms around Aladdin and Jasmine, drawing them closer to each other, which made them both smile. "Though it sure took 'em long enough to tie the knot."

"Oh." Xander's face fell.

"And I'm Genie!" Genie went on, letting his friends go so he could flex for the crowd. "Semi-phenomenal, nearly-cosmic master of magic!" He momentarily changed shape to that of a small blue wooden puppet that Kairi found vaguely familiar; "I've got no lamp to hold me down! To make me fret, or make me frown!" With a puff of smoke, he returned to his true shape in its blue glory.

"Nice to meet you," Madison said with a nod; besides Kairi, the Mystic Rangers were the only ones in the room with a fair understanding of the concept of genies, and Madison was quite attached to the one she knew.

"You may address me as the Sultan of Agrabah," the short, older man introduced. "Jasmine's father, of course. Do step into the room, please! Don't be shy! You're our welcome guests!"

As the company took the Sultan up on his invitation and moved inside, the other woman present gave an enthusiastic wave. "I'm Sadira. Witch of the Sand. And apparently, my friends have been having adventures on other worlds without me." She put her hands on her hips and gave Jasmine and Aladdin a playful glare. "THAT'S gotta change sometime soon."

"You'll get a chance," Jasmine promised.

"Trust me, I can already think of a ton of places you'd love," Aladdin laughed.

The monkey jumped up onto Aladdin's shoulder, tipped his hat, and gave a squeak that sounded distinctly like "Hewwo!"

"And this is Abu," Aladdin said with a grin. "None of our adventures would be complete without him. So, Kairi. Who are all your friends?"

Introductions on the other side of things were made brief; names and short descriptions were said. "We come from a bunch of different worlds," Kairi explained when all was said and done, "but we've had to work together because of things that have been happening recently."

"What kind of things?" Aladdin asked with suspicion in his voice.

"Maleficent, for one," Yuffie grumbled. "She's up to something new and weird."

"That's never good," Aladdin commented.

"But there's something else," Kairi added. She looked back to the group; "I think Ruby, Papyrus, and Stork better tell you about this one."

The mentioned trio stepped forth, Stork sticking close behind the other two. "WE'VE HAD A FEW RUN-INS WITH A CERTAIN EVIL SORCERER," Papyrus began. "WE HAVE REASON TO THINK YOU MIGHT KNOW HIM." With this, he looked at Genie.

"Uh-oh," Genie blurted. "Almost forgot about this, Al. And it's not good."

"We were hoping you could tell us more about a guy named Mozenrath," Ruby told the Agrabah contingent.

The looks that washed over their faces were more foreboding than they had been when Maleficent was mentioned.

...

Amarganth was once called the "silver city." Floating upon a system of boats in Moru, the Lake of Tears, its silver was polished by the corrosive waters, letting it gleam with a shine that could be seen from miles away. This grand metropolis was ever-changing, its buildings floating around to new rearrangements as its citizens saw fit, and beings from all corners of Fantastica flocked to Amarganth for great celebrations and tournaments of heroism.

That was before Moru dried up. No one in Amarganth knew the truth of why the Lake of Tears had dwindled away to nothing, leaving the silver structures to plant on the bottom of the deep and barren lakebed. None knew it was the absence of the Acharis, those who cried the tears that forged the lake, that caused the lack of water to take its toll upon the silver, the shine diminishing and the metal wasting away. And certainly none knew, as Amarganth fell apart before their very eyes, becoming a place that people flocked away from instead of to, that the reason the Acharis no longer cried was because Bastian Balthazar Bux, the one they had called savior, had thought it humane to end their pain by transforming them into the multicolored Shlamoofs, guardians of laughter and harmful tricksters. As such, the Amarganthians who refused to leave their home city out of stubbornness, nostalgia, or the lack of resources to do so did not blame Bastian for their misfortune, and instead wished him to return. They did, however, hear of the Childlike Empress' departure from the Ivory Tower to mysterious parts unknown, and the timing of this event lined up too well with Amarganth's decline. Obviously, Amarganth had fallen because the Empress had abandoned Fantastica.

Xayide's litter was borne down the sides of the lakebed and down toward the ruined city. "Well," Mozenrath commented as he sized it up, "this takes the meaning of 'fixer-upper' to a whole new level. Are you sure this is where we should start? I'm looking for warriors and magicians to follow us. This place looks like it has nothing but weaklings."

"Trust me," Xayide replied with a smirk. She knew all about the metamorphosis of the Acharis to the Shlamoofs as caused by Bastian, and she had predicted that their absence would do such a thing to Amarganth. To see the city crumbling to tarnished bits before her eyes sparked a sort of glee within her. "This is exactly where we must begin."

"Then impress us," the Huntsman growled.

Yzma looked between Mozenrath and the Huntsman. "Well, I'm willing to give her a chance," she said with a shrug. "She wouldn't bring us to a place this ugly without a reason."

The armor that bore the litter set it down on the uneven ground, and Xayide, Mozenrath, the Huntsman, and Yzma departed. Yzma gritted her teeth as her high-heeled shoes clashed with the rugged pebble-studded terrain. Xayide led the group down the deteriorating alleyways to the center of the dilapidated metropolis. Mozenrath looked around to see the Amarganthian people flitting from alley to alley as though they were shadows, thin from a lack of good food, giving off an aura of fear…and also anger. As he collected stares and glares from the inhabitants, who were mostly human but included some races not so commonly seen in Mozenrath's homeworld, he began to understand what Xayide saw here…and good thing, too, for the people were beginning to crowd around the four brightly dressed newcomers, wondering why they were there and what they wanted, giving hungry stares.

"PEOPLE OF AMARGANTH!" Xayide called out, and Mozenrath simply had to be impressed with the magical spell she had cast upon her own voice. It echoed throughout the entire city, heard by all and gathering all's attention, and yet it did not sound deafeningly loud to those standing beside her. "The Childlike Empress has abandoned you! She has left your city to ruin! Look at what you have become; look how you grovel and scrape for food!"

A mutter of agreement went up through the crowd.

"And what's worse is that the one who could have saved you is gone," Xayide went on. "Bastian Balthazar Bux has returned to his home, worlds away. He could save you in an instant! But he does not even know you suffer! Fear not, gentle people of Amarganth. For I have brought you a different sort of salvation. With Bastian gone and the Empress turning a blind eye, we need a new Emperor!"

The Amarganthians muttered some more, whispering to each other about Xayide's words. Perhaps she was on to something.

"Trust me," Xayide continued, "for I was the closest traveling companion of Bastian: the witch Xayide! Once, I terrorized Fantastica with my wicked ways, but Bastian showed me a new path, and now I have come not to torment you but to save you in your hour of need."

This gathered a more positive response from the crowd; they recognized the name, and believed her story to be true, for it was the version of events Bastian had believed.

"And what's more, I have brought you a new savior…a new Emperor to be," Xayide announced. "Look upon him! He, as Bastian, comes from another world, and he will rescue you from your plight!" She stepped back, gesturing to Mozenrath. The sorcerer felt all eyes upon him, and it was a feeling he absolutely loved. He flashed a smile, and received several in return.

"She's good," Yzma whispered to the Huntsman, who nodded in agreement. "I want to keep her."

"But he cannot do it alone!" Xayide cajoled. "The Ivory Tower will not easily accept a new ruler upon its throne. In order to help you, Mozenrath needs you to help him. Come with us to the Ivory Tower. Speak to those who inhabit it and tell them what we know: that a replacement for the Childlike Empress MUST be found if this land is to prosper. Many other countries within Fantastica suffer the way you suffer, and this is the only way we can save them all!"

She stepped back then, giving Mozenrath a meaningful nod. Mozenrath realized this was where he was meant to speak. "I – "

Xayide waved a hand, and suddenly, his voice was as loud as hers had been, which startled him momentarily. Once he recovered, clearing his throat, Mozenrath announced, "I am the next Emperor of Fantastica. I WILL sit upon the throne of the Ivory Tower. And when I do, I think we'll all find that this story is destined for a happy ending."

"He really does need to work on his people skills," Yzma sighed.

All the same, once Mozenrath said his piece, the Amarganthians erupted into thunderous applause, and his name was cheered from every balcony and window. The citizens already began to mobilize, packing up their things so they could follow the coral litter on its journey to the Ivory Tower.

Yzma rolled her eyes. "Peasants. No matter where you go, they're all the same."

Mozenrath turned to Xayide, making a signal for her to turn down the volume of his voice; she did so, and he told her, "That was pretty impressive."

"And it is just the beginning," Xayide told him. "By the time we reach the gates of the Ivory Tower, we will have an army so large that those who still support the Empress will not be able to turn us away."

"And after we take the Tower?" Mozenrath asked.

"Then you do with them what you wish," Xayide answered. "Come. We have far to go."

When they left, it was with a thick band of followers bearing tents and supplies. Mozenrath reclined inside the litter, proud of himself despite the fact that Xayide had done the heavy lifting. "This story will have a happy ending, all right," he told Yzma, the Huntsman, and Xayide. "For us."


	29. The Truth About Mozenrath

29\. The Truth About Mozenrath

"Mozenrath is one of the greatest current threats to Agrabah," the Sultan began.

"We've defeated him over and over," Aladdin explained. "But every time we think he's down, he manages to come back."

Jasmine ticked off a list of sins: "He's almost petrified Father, unleashed horrible monsters upon the Seven Deserts, worked the poor innocent Sprites to death, and transformed Genie into fuel for his twisted spells!"

"Long story short, not a nice guy," Genie commented.

"I don't have much experience with him," Sadira admitted, "but he gives sand-based magic a REALLY bad name."

"So we're talking about a sorcerer," Nick deduced.

"That's no big deal," Xander dismissed. "We've dealt with all kinds of magical enemies."

"Hear them out first," Luna warned. "This case may be very different."

"He's a powerful one," Genie affirmed. "He was able to knock me out with one punch. That shouldn't generally happen."

"He didn't seem so tough when I fought him," Kairi commented.

"Well, you have a Keyblade," Genie reminded her. "You have to pack a wallop to wield one of those!"

"He's…kinda hard to pin down," Aladdin added. "A lot of times, we've beaten him because he made really stupid mistakes. But then he comes back with some new power we have to figure out how to deal with."

"When did everything with him first start?" Cadance asked.

"When he captured a Thirdac," Jasmine explained. "A creature that eats magic. He wanted to use it to conquer the kingdoms of the Seven Deserts…"

"But it got loose in his palace," Aladdin recalled with a smirk.

"So he's the kind of sorcerer who lets monsters get the better of him," Nick observed. "I really don't see what we have to worry about."

"He figured he had to find somebody to do the dirty work of catching the Thirdac for him," Aladdin explained. "So he staged an attack on Agrabah with a different monster to see who could stop it. That person ended up being me. When I turned him down, he kidnapped Genie and threw him to the Thirdac. My only choice was to stop the Thirdac so I could save Genie."

"That's what makes Mozenrath so dangerous," Jasmine asserted. "He's underhanded. Even when he isn't strong enough to finish a job, he knows how to get it done by playing dirty."

"Any idea what he wants?" Yuffie asked.

"Whatever he can get," Aladdin answered somberly. "Especially if it's magical."

"Or a kingdom he can run," Genie added.

"That seems to fit so far," Kairi said with a nod. "None of the things he's done have seemed really…connected. If he's just after anything and everything, that would explain it."

"I wouldn't count him having some kind of plan out just yet," Aladdin informed her. "He usually does. We just usually never figure it out until it's almost too late."

"So where's he hide out when he's on this world?" Nora asked.

"In the Land of the Black Sands," the Sultan said forebodingly. "A cursed kingdom filled with all sorts of unspeakable horrors!"

"Mostly the Mamluks," Aladdin clarified. "His undead minions."

"So this guy already HAS a whole kingdom filled with scary stuff," Jaune sighed. "Great. That makes our job that much harder."

"Actually, I think that makes it easier!" Nora realized. "We could just go up there and knock him out for good!"

"Sure, we could," Stork grumbled. "If we all wanted to meet horrible magic-induced doom at the fate of his undead minions. DON'T YOU THINK IF ALADDIN COULD HAVE STOPPED HIM THAT EASILY, HE ALREADY WOULD HAVE?"

"You don't have to yell at me!" Nora huffed.

"There are a lot of us," Vida pointed out. "Maybe together, we could – "

"Eh-HEM," Stork interrupted. "A lot of us are currently missing our magical weapons thanks to Maleficent. Who, I might add, is apparently the OTHER big thing we have to worry about."

"What's Maleficent been doing?" Aladdin asked in concern.

"What she usually does," Kairi informed him. "Her allies took my Keyblade away from me. Riku's, too. They got most of our weapons."

"Taking a Keyblade away?" Genie repeated. "Now, that's SERIOUS magic!"

"It's serious magic, all right," Nick confirmed. "And that's what we've been dealing with on one front."

"This Mozenrath stuff seems like it's separate," Madison added.

"Maleficent on one end, Mozenrath on the other…" Genie summoned up two giant boulders that pressed him from either side. "Talk about…" He made a show of trying to push the boulders away. "Being between a rock…and a hard place!" The boulders squashed him flat; he slipped out from under them in a two-dimensional state before puffing back up and dismissing the boulders in a cloud of smoke. Madison smiled, having a soft chuckle at the display.

"What I really want to know is about the people working with Mozenrath," Ruby brought up. "Because you've been talking about him like you've always taken him on when he's alone, and that's bad enough. But he ISN'T alone."

"What do you mean, he isn't alone?" Jasmine asked in confusion.

"YOU KNOW," Papyrus explained. "ROMAN TORCHWICK. NEO. THE SCARY MAN IN THE DRAGON HELMET. THE PURPLE WOMAN. THE MAN WITH THE RED HAT. HIS FRIENDS!"

Aladdin shook his head. "Mozenrath doesn't have friends. All he has are his weird flying eel sidekick and his shambling undead minions he can boss around. If there's one thing Mozenrath would never have, it's friends."

...

"Well, friends," Mozenrath remarked casually as he peered out the side of the palanquin, "that's the end of THAT day." The sun was indeed going down on the horizon. Watching the landscape go by had been a rather stunning experience: Fantastica had no shortage of sights to see, including crystal towers, forests with plants of all colors, and mountain ranges riddled with caverns. Xayide had insisted that none of them were the place they were going next. She had a very clear vision of the next destination, and she was bent on getting there.

The company from Amarganth followed loyally, an impromptu army that came in all shapes and colors. They were ready to back Mozenrath's claim to the throne for eternity, the way they had backed Bastian Balthazar Bux. They carried their possessions with them: stores of food, rolled-up tents and sleeping bags. All made sure to keep a good distance behind the palanquin and the host of black suits of armor that ferried it.

Every metal suit halted at once, and the palanquin was lowered. "The people of Amarganth have to make their own sleeping arrangements," Xayide announced, "but for the four of us, I can make something both comfortable and extravagant. How would you like us to sleep? I can make as many tents as you wish."

"Well, obviously, we need two tents," Yzma stated. "One for the men, and one for the women."

"Why not four tents?" Mozenrath asked. "One for each of us. Then none of us has to get in the other's way. There's really no point in us SHARING tents if Xayide can make four."

"Slumber party?" Yzma replied nervously, giggling a little. "What slumber party? Who said anything about a slumber party?"

"You," Mozenrath groaned. "Just now."

"If you wish to share a tent, then we shall," Xayide told Yzma. "As for our male companions, I suppose they will be separated."

Mozenrath turned to the Huntsman. "Well? Did YOU want to share a tent?"

"It…might make it easier for us to keep watch over each other," the Huntsman stated. That was how it was rationalizing in his head. The closer he could be to Mozenrath, the better he could fend off impending threats, and when one proclaimed one was next in line to be emperor, threats tended to come out of the woodwork.

Mozenrath was about to shoot the Huntsman down on that front, but then he realized he rather liked the idea of sharing quarters with him. Perhaps it was because he figured he could catch another rare glimpse of his face. "I guess we'll be taking two tents," he resolved.

"Two tents," Yzma repeated. "You know, that's something you're a little too much of, Mozenrath."

"What?"

"Too tense."

Mozenrath buried his face in the palm of his gauntlet. "I'm going to pretend you never said that."

Xayide had already left the palanquin, conjuring up two roomy tents that looked more like cloth pavilions. One was a deep royal blue that matched Mozenrath's robes; the other was deep purple to complement Yzma's wardrobe. "Blue for the men," Xayide explained, "and purple for the women."

The interiors of both tents were stuffed with plushy embroidered pillows and laden with soft blankets. The floors were stuffed like mattresses, and as Mozenrath entered the men's tent, he noticed his feet bouncing a little wherever he stepped. "Not bad," he muttered, a slight grin playing at his lips.

"Rest well," Xayide told him, peering briefly into his tent. "We have far to go tomorrow."

"And where exactly are you taking us?" Mozenrath asked.

"Someplace I know the Huntsman will not approve of," Xayide stated cryptically. "But he shall have to refrain from complaints." She disappeared into her tent fluidly.

Yzma darted in right after Xayide, and the Huntsman peeled back the entry flap to their tent to ask, "What do you mean by – "

"NO MEN ALLOWED!" Yzma barked. "GET TO YOUR OWN TENT!"

"I'm not leaving," the Huntsman growled, "until I get an answer – "

Xayide flicked her wrist, and the Huntsman was thrown backward in a shower of red sparks. He knew then he wasn't going to get anywhere further that night, so he shrugged it off and entered Mozenrath's tent.

Mozenrath had settled back on a pile of pillows, levitating them into a comfortable stack. The Huntsman took his own seat on the plush floor, facing Mozenrath down. After staring fixedly upon Mozenrath with almost a degree of resentment as he realized it would have to come to this, he removed his helmet, unwrapping the balaclava from his head. Upon seeing the Huntsman's face, Mozenrath let his smirk grow.

"I don't know why seeing my face gives you such amusement," the Huntsman grumbled.

"I don't know why you don't show it off more often," Mozenrath replied. "Are you just trying to preserve your enigmatic mystique?"

"I can assure you, that isn't the reason," the Huntsman replied.

"Well, it can't be because you think it makes you better than everyone else," Mozenrath went on. "Because that would mean you'd think you could boss me around."

"You're seeing my face as we speak," the Huntsman retorted. "If it were a case of superiority complex, at the very least, I would know my place is below you."

Mozenrath had thought that was what he wanted to hear, but somehow, it didn't sit well with him. "Not…necessarily below me," he clarified. "Just…so we're clear that I'm in charge, and you're not BETTER than me."

"We're already quite clear on that, Mozenrath."

There was a silence between them for a while before Mozenrath asked, "You never told me what exactly you have against dragons. Don't get me wrong; they're very slayable. I know why I want as many of them slain as I do. But you never explained your end of things."

"I don't suppose you'll let the subject die until I do," the Huntsman relented.

"You suppose correctly." Mozenrath's smirk grew ever wider.

"It begins with the Academy," the Huntsman stated, reaching to take his helmet into his hands. He peeled off each black glove so that he could run his thumbs pensively over the horns of the skull. "They trained each of us to know the magical. To understand the magical and how it could work for us and against us. And to destroy the magical when it was against us. Dragons are always against us. As are many creatures of magic. There are, of course, exceptions. The undead are an untrustworthy lot, but Ayam Aghoul has proven himself different. Perhaps still untrustworthy, but not in any way that presents a threat to us. From the time we were children, we were trained in the arts of weaponry, shown the quickest ways to kill, instructed to do so without hesitation at the very sight of a dragon."

"I'm guessing this was a family business," Mozenrath theorized.

"I will never know," the Huntsman admitted. "The Huntsclan takes children with the birthmark of the clan, the red dragon, as soon as they are born. I never knew either of my parents. I can only suppose they were weak, ordinary people not worth knowing. The Huntsclan was my only family."

Mozenrath listened intently. While he didn't stoop so far as to offer any sympathy, for he had none to give, he no longer wore his smirk.

"I had my doubts about dragons, some days," the Huntsman went on. "Then, one day, the Academy was infiltrated by a red dragon. It nearly cost me my life. That, more than anything else, was what convinced me. Dragons are a blight that needs to be wiped out from my world and every world."

"All because of the one that attacked you," Mozenrath reiterated.

"To be fair," the Huntsman went on, "it threw me to another monster entirely. Either way, I bear the scars."

"What scars?"

The Huntsman hesitated. Then he delicately unfastened his cape, casting it aside; he would have needed it removed to sleep anyway. He followed by peeling away his tunic so that he was stripped down to his shirt, his pants, and his boots. The neckline of his shirt was low enough that Mozenrath could see it then: the jagged remnants of claw marks that dragged across his upper chest and lower neck. Again, Mozenrath had no sympathy to offer, but he almost felt he owed the Huntsman something for showing him this. It was somewhat of an anomalous display of weakness on an otherwise untouchable figure. "If nothing else," the Huntsman stated, "at least I gained a little more respect around the Academy after that incident."

"I have a hard time believing you weren't the most respected there from day one," Mozenrath admitted.

"I was…perhaps the least respected of the Academy before then," the Huntsman stated, his gaze now fully fixed on the helmet in his hands. "I lagged behind in classes, and before the incident, I had a rather…unfortunate-sounding voice. I was often made fun of by the other trainees. They would…" He sighed. "It doesn't matter what they would do to me."

He looked up into Mozenrath's eyes then and was stunned by what he saw. There was understanding behind those eyes, and perhaps, finally, a little sympathy. Not at all what he had expected from the normally snide young man. "Did you wish to say something?" the Huntsman asked.

"Just…a little disbelief," Mozenrath confessed. "I would have pegged you as the bully. Not the victim."

"You would have preferred me as the bully, I would imagine."

"I like what you are now," Mozenrath stated somberly. "I like knowing what you were then, but it doesn't make any difference to me."

The Huntsman nodded. "After I survived my ordeal with the dragon, I became better in my studies of battle. Fighting for your life will do that to you, after all. The wounds the monster left changed my voice as well, to what you hear now."

"It's a nice-sounding voice," Mozenrath said without thinking.

The Huntsman, surprised at this compliment, looked Mozenrath in the eye all the harder, baffled, attempting to figure out where it had come from. Mozenrath wasn't sure himself. "Go on," the young sorcerer said somewhat sheepishly, suddenly hyper-aware of his own heartbeat.

"There isn't much more to tell," the Huntsman concluded. "From then on, I was top student. I was the Huntsmaster's personal Huntsboy. I commanded the respect I deserved. And I never forgot that red dragon."

"There are still two things I'm not clear on," Mozenrath stated, trying to build back his suave exterior. "Mind indulging me by answering some questions?"

"I suppose not," the Huntsman answered. "Since you know so much already." By then, he would have told Mozenrath absolutely anything, he realized. He wasn't sure exactly why, but he somehow felt that his story had been told to just the right audience.

"First of all," Mozenrath said, "you mentioned being born with the mark of the red dragon. Is that supposed to be it on your face? Because that doesn't look like a dragon to me."

"It's only part of a dragon," the Huntsman confessed. "The rest is…here." He then peeled away his shirt, casting it aside so Mozenrath could see how the reptilian birthmark coiled over his entire chest.

Mozenrath's eyes widened, and his pulse quickened. "That answers that question," he said with a nod, momentarily hypnotized by the Huntsman's figure, suddenly starting to realize something he wasn't sure he wanted to know. He forced himself to look the Huntsman in the eye for the next question: "And as for my final inquiry…you said you were taken as a child. Is that why you never told anyone your real name? Because you don't have one?"

"Not true," the Huntsman clarified. "The clan raised us with names. We were never told whether they were our birth names or names simply given to us by those who brought us into the ranks. I do have a name."

"And that name would be?"

"George Liu." It amazed the Huntsman how easily that secret passed through his lips.

Mozenrath nodded, careful to keep eye contact so as not to be distracted again. "It suits you."

"I never felt it did," the Huntsman confessed.

"'The Huntsman' suits you just fine," Mozenrath added quickly. "Either way."

"You've asked much of me tonight," the Huntsman stated. "What about you? Now that you know about my past, it's only fair that I know at least a little of yours."

"That would be fair, wouldn't it?" Mozenrath reclined a little farther into his mound of pillows. "All right. I'll give you a bedtime story. It's all about how an Agrabanian child who everyone assumed would be a lowlife grew into a powerful and devious sorcerer."

"I look forward to hearing this one," the Huntsman said with a single nod.

"I guess it all began with a thief," Mozenrath sighed, trying to pin down the perfect starting point for his tale. "Now, I'm sure there was some glamorous love story about how Cassim the rogue fell in love with Aaliyah, a sorceress from the Black Sands, on one of his adventures, and liberated her from the tyrannical rule of Destane. It sounds like the stuff of terrible romance novels. All you need to know is that those were my parents. Cassim took my mother with him to his home kingdom of Agrabah, and that's where I was born. We had an…average life. I knew from the time I was young that I was destined for greatness. Cliché, I know, but true. I wanted to rule over kingdoms. I wanted to learn magic, like what I saw my mother doing when she would cook food over a fire she lit by snapping her fingers. I wanted POWER. I know I was young, but I think I always knew I wanted to be a conqueror. Basically, what you might call a 'villain.' My mother always understood this about me. Cassim never did."

"I notice that you refer to your mother as your mother," the Huntsman realized, "and yet Cassim is not 'my father.'"

"He may be my father," Mozenrath growled, "but I refuse to let him have the satisfaction of being referred to as it. Mother was too good for him. I knew he wanted a son who would run rampant through the city streets causing trouble. A little boy who would grow up to be the Prince of Thieves, following him on his adventures. The ones I knew he wished he could leave us behind to run away on. Mother was blind to his faults. I suppose love does that. But I always knew I wasn't what he wanted. But that was fine by me. He was never what I wanted in a father, anyway.

"Like I said, Mother got me, but Cassim never understood. I told my mother I was going to grow up to be the Sultan of Agrabah, and she agreed. I told her I was going to become the most powerful sorcerer in the world, and she told me she knew I would. I realize now it was probably just the ramblings of any mother to her child, but I still think to this day she believed in me the way Cassim never did. Whatever else happened, at least I had her. Then…she fell ill. And you can probably see where THAT'S going."

"You lost her," the Huntsman said, matter-of-fact.

"I did." Mozenrath's gaze turned downward, to the strewn-about pillows. "I thought then that I'd…lost everything." He immediately composed himself; "But I wasn't going to waste my time moping around for her. After all, I had plans to carry out. Big plans. Mother had always told me about the 'horrible and terrifying' sorcerer Destane, who ruled the Land of the Black Sands with an iron fist, or so she said. She also said he was the most powerful sorcerer in the world, and if I wanted the title, I'd have to take it from him. So I told her I wanted to learn from him. She said, and I remember her being fairly horrified at the time, that if there was one person I should never mess with, it was Destane. I told her I changed my mind and all I wanted to do was beat him. She said that, I could probably do.

"With Mother gone, all I could think about was my plan to learn magic. And not just any magic. EVERY kind of magic. I remembered what she said about not messing with Destane, but I felt pretty sure I could get him to respect me."

"And how old were you at the time?" the Huntsman asked.

"Seven. At which age I suppose you'd already killed your first goblin."

"Gremlin, actually."

"Anyway," Mozenrath went on, "after Mother died, I thought I saw an actual shred of humanity in Cassim. He grieved for her for a while. He put on this whole big show like he could never move on. But, in the end, he did. Some Agrabanian woman caught his fancy, and, next thing I know, I have a new 'mother' - " He put up his fingers to put air quotes around the term. " – and a younger half-brother on the way. I tried to put up with them, believe me. But, in the end, I knew my place wasn't there anymore. I didn't tell anyone when I left. I tried to just make it a quiet affair. In the middle of the night, of course. Maybe they missed me and panicked when they woke up. Or maybe they were just glad I was gone.

"I knew Destane wouldn't like me. But I was sure he'd at least UNDERSTAND me. After all, he also craved magic and power. We couldn't be that different. I practically killed myself trying to get to him. When I finally made it to the Black Sands, I was starving and dehydrated. It's actually hilarious, now that I think about it. If you look at it from Destane's point of view, I turned up on his front door half dead, probably hallucinating, and, I will remind you, a child. I'm not exactly sure why he didn't kill me. Probably because I babbled something about undying loyalty to him and he knew he could exploit that. I have…literally no memory of when I actually met him. He at least took the time to nurse me back to what passed for health. Don't go thinking that's going to make him the unsung hero of the story. He knew he couldn't put me to work if I couldn't even stand up.

"I worked as Destane's apprentice for years. Well, 'apprentice' might just be my term for it. Destane was…well, he was like a father to me. Just like Cassim. He didn't understand me at all, it turns out. He just wanted someone to order around. Someone he could make carry his spellbooks from room to room and pacify by teaching him a few cheap parlor tricks in return." He said it all with a cavalier air, as though it were water under the bridge.

"Cassim made a servant of you in the same way?" the Huntsman asked.

"Well…not exactly," Mozenrath admitted. "When you really boil it down, Destane was worse than Cassim on every level. I still hate them equally. See, when you were on Destan'e good side, he could show you things. He had a few old spellbooks he didn't use anymore because half the pages had gotten torn out or burned, and he let me have them. I learned more from them than I think he realized. And, when he was asleep, I would sneak into his library and get my hands on the good stuff. But get on his bad side, and he wasn't one to take infractions lightly. During one of his more dramatic fits of anger against the people he ruled over, he decided to cast a blight on all of their food, and I just so happened to bring him the wrong materials. He only noticed when crops started to actually grow HEALTHIER. I paid for that."

"How so?" the Huntsman asked.

Mozenrath paused then. "You realize this is all just the setup of the story. How I became what I am now. I'm not looking for pity here."

"I'm not asking out of pity. I'm asking out of curiosity."

Mozenrath relented, suddenly unsure of the waters he was treading. "Don't look at the right side," he commanded. "The right side is what's obvious. You know what's on the right side. Focus on the left." He then mirrored the Huntsman's earlier actions, casting his hat aside, peeling away his shirt to reveal his bare chest, eventually even dropping the gauntlet to the floor after some deliberation.

The Huntsman was at first distracted by the right side of Mozenrath's upper body, despite the warning. He was unprepared for exactly how much of the sorcerer's flesh had been eaten away by the gauntlet. Mozenrath's entire right arm was reduced to bone, a gleaming white shoulder blade exposed. The Huntsman was certain that if he got a look from the correct angle, he would see Mozenrath's beating heart tucked deep within the hollows of his body. Then he forced himself to look at the opposite side, where the flesh was whole…but not unmarked. A prominent burn scar coursed the length of Mozenrath's body from neck to waist.

"You have your scars," Mozenrath said flippantly, "and I have mine."

The Huntsman felt a twist in the center of his gut and was unsure how to address it. Mozenrath had asked for no pity, which was a feat the Huntsman was certain he would be able to pull off without even trying. Yet the burn was horrific, and, unbidden, images sprang to the Huntsman's mind of a much younger Mozenrath screaming in agony as magical flames licked him, tasted his flesh to see how much they could take away.

"I guess I do have Destane to thank for a lot of my power," Mozenrath went on. "His citadel, which would later become MY citadel, is where I learned the art of necromancy. Now, George Liu, do you have any idea exactly how hard it is to bring someone back from the dead?"

"I can only imagine it isn't easy at all," the Huntsman replied.

"The actual process involves a series of almost unnecessarily lengthy incantations and complicated patterns," Mozenrath explained. "All of which I have, by this point, memorized. All I need to do now is flick my wrist and take a little trip down memory lane, and I can have whatever poor departed soul I want at my disposal. But back then, I had to draw everything by hand and say everything out loud if I wanted to so much as bring a squashed beetle back to life. I actually started out practicing on animals. Just bringing them back to life at first, but then, other experiments. Seeing if I could bestow the power of flight or the power of speech or the power to survive out of water – aaaaaand that's how I ended up with the mess we call 'Xerxes.'"

"He seems to have been the only test subject you bothered to keep with you," the Huntsman pointed out.

Mozenrath shrugged. "I got attached. Probably because I put so many spells into him that he practically has part of my soul in him at this point. Emphasis on 'practically.' I never was able to convert him into a proper phylactery. Anyway, these were all spells that anyone could do if they had the right materials. That's the other important thing to keep in mind. I can skip a lot of the necromancy process because of the magic carried in the gauntlet. I could do magic. That didn't inherently make me MAGICAL. One resurrection could take me up to three hours. But, while Destane was sleeping, time was exactly what I had. I worked away at it until I was finally able to bring my first human being back to life.

"This is probably the turning point of the story. When I got that good at resurrection, Destane finally had enough of me, and I had had MORE than enough of him. I knew I needed to get rid of him once and for all. So I started researching the locations of powerful magical artifacts that could help me. And I came across this." Mozenrath picked up the gauntlet, almost cradling it between the bones of his stripped hand and the flesh of his hale one. "The magic that changed my life."

"If you'll pardon the interruption," the Huntsman said, "there appears to be a piece missing from your tale. Namely, the breaking point between you and Destane. I suppose it had something to do with the first person you brought back from the dead. Might I ask who you chose?"

Mozenrath fixed the Huntsman with a glare that was at first cold, but then grew to appear almost wounded. "Who do you think?"

...

The resurrection had taken all night. Young Mozenrath had grown weary, and was in danger of falling asleep where he stood, ready to collapse right onto the stone floor of the citadel and slip into unconsciousness. He knew, however, that he couldn't stop until he had seen the endeavor through. It would be the final confirmation of how powerful he had become…and it was a reunion long overdue.

He spoke the last words clearly, and the spiderwebs of symbols he'd drawn on the wall sparked with light. She shimmered into view slowly, a mirage at first, gaining light and substance; confused, she regarded the fronts and backs of her own hands, unsure what to make of the flesh that composed them. She was fully aware that she was not where she was supposed to be. She then looked up at Mozenrath, her dark eyes, so similar to his own, fixating on his tired visage. She struggled to find the first question she wanted to ask, for she had a great many.

"It's been a while," Mozenrath said with a smile, "hasn't it?"

"Do I…know you?" she asked, utterly perplexed.

"Better than anyone else does," Mozenrath replied. "But I don't blame you for not recognizing me. It has been over ten years, after all."

It took her a moment. What clinched it was when she realized just how much of her own face was in his features, from his cheekbones to his lips. Stunned, she whispered, "Mozenrath…?"

"In the flesh," Mozenrath replied, feeling a second wind of energy. "Just like you are now, Mother."

"How did you…" Aaliyah breathed, mind abuzz.

"Bring you back?" Mozenrat finished for her. "I won't bore you with the details. Let's just say I'm finally becoming what I always set out to be. What you KNEW I would be."

Aaliyah then rushed to her son, taking his face into her hands so she could run her thumbs over its contours, shifting to embrace him closely. "Mozenrath…my son…" she repeated, overcome with a happiness tinted with a strange melancholy.

Mozenrath hesitated; it wasn't natural for him to respond to such gestures of affection. Then he returned her embrace as lightly as he could, rather stiffly as well.

"Where are we?" Aaliyah asked as she removed her arms and backed away from her son.

"You're…actually not going to like it," Mozenrath confessed. "We're in the place where I learned to bring you back. Now, before you say anything, you should know that being here is what gave me power. REAL power. The kind of power that – "

She sensed something was wrong. "WHERE. Are. We?"

The way she fixed her gaze upon Mozenrath made him suddenly feel as though he'd made a large and critical mistake. "The citadel of Destane in the Land of the Black Sands," he answered, trying to keep his tone even.

Horror enveloped her. "We have to go," she said urgently, taking Mozenrath's right hand – still flesh, back in those days - and pulling him toward her.

"No!" Mozenrath tugged at his arm to free it from Aaliyah's grasp. "Not when I've come so far!"

"You don't understand the danger you're in," Aaliyah emphasized. "If you stay here, he will KILL you."

"I've been here for years, and he hasn't killed me yet," Mozenrath argued.

Somehow, the sort of horror that clouded around Aaliyah changed. "What has he done to you?" she asked.

"Done to me…?"

"He wouldn't let anyone into his citadel for years without making them pay a price," Aaliyah muttered. "If you've been here, he must have made use of you. He must have – " She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. We have to go now, while there's still time."

"No!" Mozenrath backed away from his mother. "Maybe YOU don't belong here. But I finally have real power, and I'm going to get more! It'll be just like I always said. One day, I WILL be the most powerful sorcerer in the world."

"You can learn that magic somewhere else!" Aaliyah emphasized. "Not here! Please, Mozenrath…come with me. Somewhere SAFE."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. We can go somewhere else until we've…resolved this. But I'm coming back."

She knew it was useless to argue.

They dashed through the halls as silently as they could, making their way stealthily to the entrance. As they rounded the final corner into the atrium, he was there, waiting for them: Destane himself, fully awake, smirking proudly.

"Did you really think I wouldn't catch on to your little nighttime endeavors?" he taunted.

Aaliyah stepped protectively in front of Mozenrath, fixing Destane with her toughest glare. It would have caused any other person to flinch.

"And who is this?" Destane asked, sizing up Aaliyah. "A lover? No, not a lover. Where would you have met one? And who would ever be YOUR lover? No…this…" It dawned upon him. "This is someone you've brought back. That's what you've been doing all this time when you thought I was asleep. Trying to bring someone back. And don't think I've forgotten your little sob stories, either. This can only be one person." His grin widened. "Your mother."

Aaliyah turned to face Mozenrath. "Run," she commanded.

"No," Mozenrath growled. "I don't RUN from him."

"Perhaps you should," Destane taunted.

The next thing Mozenrath was aware of was the chains forged of pure energy that had wrapped around his body as he was flung up against the nearest wall; as he impacted the stone, knowing it was a miracle his spine didn't break, the chains glued themselves to the wall, pinning Mozenrath there. The young sorcerer-in-training struggled against them, but they held firm, keeping him fixed in place to watch the events that unfolded.

"Don't take this personally," Destane told Aaliyah. "This isn't about you. It's about teaching him a lesson." He charged a sphere of blinding blue-white light between his hands, lobbing it directly at Aaliyah. She put out her hands and gave a scream of pain as the magic made impact…but she had caught it, and though it was burning her palms, she found the strength to push it right back at Destane. He guided it to orbit around him, turning into a ring that exploded outward into several smaller projectiles; Aaliyah batted away the ones that came toward her. She surrounded herself with a ring of bright crimson flames, giving a twirl while guiding the fire with her hands to rush toward Destane, to engulf him. The flames arced over an invisible deflection shield, beneath which Destane merely stood and watched Aaliyah with a smug grin.

A dozen stone duplicates of Destane rose up from the floor, all fixing her with the same self-satisfied look. Then they rushed. Aaliyah coated her hands with pure red magic, punching through the stone as each duplicate reached her, shattering Destane's doubles into shards and dust. Finally, the real thing came at her, hands covered in his own magic. His hands clashed against hers in a shower of sparks again and again; every time he tried to lash at a weak spot on her body, she countered expertly. She stepped back to gain some distance, shaping the formless masses that covered her hands into vermilion blades, and then let them fly at Destane's face, building new ones where the former had been. Destane caught them both, melting them in his hands. Aaliyah struck with her sharpened hands, hoping to impale Destane; he caught both of her wrists, forcing them upward and away from him. She kicked at his stomach, causing him to reel momentarily and loosen his grip just enough that she could wrench her wrists free. But as she brought her blades of energy down upon him, they shattered against another deflection shield. Blue-white cords erupted from Destane's hands, wrapping around her wrists, binding them together as well as to Destane's palms. With one movement of his arms, he brought her stumbling to the ground, brought down by the ropes of energy as more surrounded her legs and crawled up to bind her entire body. She struggled, concentrating as hard as she could, and the blue changed momentarily to red in patches, but reverted back to its original color almost immediately. Finally, a patch of blue covered her mouth, silencing all of her cries.

Destane looked proudly down at the bound Aaliyah. "I see you've learned one of the primary facets of magic," he remarked. "The power of creation. It must have taken a while to create this host body for the soul you retrieved. And it even clothed itself based on the soul's perception. You've obviously come much farther than I thought, Mozenrath. And yet, you are still not a master of the true heart of magic: the power of transfiguration. The ability to convert essence from one form to another. I shall demonstrate it to you now."

The patch over Aaliyah's mouth was gone, and, knowing full well what Destane was about to do, she began to scream: "MOZENRATH! DON'T LET HIM GET AWAY WITH THIS! KILL HIM! SAVE YOURSELF AND KILL HIM!"

"Such harsh final words," Destane remarked, making a slow upward movement with his hand.

Aaliyah's whole body went still, and a fine, silvery mist poured forth from her mouth, balling up in Destane's palm until it became a gem half the size of his hand. "Observe your mother's soul," Destane bade Mozenrath, stepping away from the lifeless body to hold the jewel closer to the apprentice's face. "I hold her entire life in my hand. She is, at the moment, neither living nor dead, but instead suspended in a state between. And here is where you will witness the final facet of magic: the power to destroy."

"NO!" Mozenrath screamed.

Destane placed the jewel between both hands and clasped his palms hard around it, giving a little extra magical force. The gem collapsed into fine dust. "And now her soul is no longer," Destane said proudly. "It cannot return to her body, nor can it return to the Underworld, or any of the other immortal planes. It simply doesn't exist." He flung the dust at Mozenrath's face; Mozenrath coughed, trying not to inhale the remnants of what had once been the life force of the only human being he had truly loved.

Destane laughed. "What have you achieved?" he taunted. "You've only managed to kill a dead woman twice over." He let Mozenrath down from his position against the wall then, and Mozenrath collapsed to his hands and knees, shivering on the floor without a word. "Attempt to avenge her," Destane warned, "and you shall not only cease to exist, but it shall be far more painful than what she experienced. I expect you to report to the laboratory in three hours, as usual." He turned and stalked from the room, leaving Mozenrath to his silent shock.

...

"Of course, I didn't listen to him," Mozenrath continued to relate to the Huntsman. "He should have known getting revenge would be the first thing I would do." He realized that at some point, as he had related the tale of Aaliyah, he had ended up lying on the cushiony floor instead of propped on his pillow pile. "So I found the gauntlet. It wasn't easy. It was guarded by any number of magical defenses, but I managed to get it in my hands and ON my hand anyway. He punished me in the usual way for being gone for so long, but I don't think he ever suspected exactly what I went to get. The hard part became how to get the better of Destane. He had devices set up to let him know if anyone was sneaking up on him while he was sleeping. He tested all of his food and drinks for poison ever since I knew him. I just had to wait. And hide the gauntlet, mind you. I KNEW he would know what it was. After all, I found out about it from his books.

"Eventually, I figured out the key wasn't to figure out when he was vulnerable. It was to figure out when he thought I was harmless. So I botched a spell on purpose just to get him to hurt me. I think he actually used lightning that time. I really hate lightning. Anyway, I pretended to be out of commission for longer than I actually was. I made a whole show out of lying on the floor and moaning about how much pain I was in while slipping the gauntlet onto my hand. Then, when he came back to stand over me while telling me to stop whining and act like a grown-up, I got him. His guard was completely down, and I finally managed to kill Destane."

The Huntsman felt a strange sort of satisfaction from hearing that part of the story.

"But killing him just wasn't the ticket." Mozenrath's smirk was returning. "No, I needed to give him a fate worse than death. So I HALF resurrected him. He was the first of my undead army. From then on, I was the one calling the shots, and HE took orders from ME.

"I inherited the entire Black Sands, of course. Which only proved that I was right from the start about what I was meant to be. The problem then became dealing with the mess Destane left behind. As you can imagine, he was a sloppy ruler. The people were always falling ill from malnutrition or a plague or what have you. I couldn't keep track. I DO know that when they died, it was fair game to bring them half back to life too, and the Mamluk army grew every time. Then, at some point, the rest of the survivors just got tired of me and left."

"I'm surprised you let them get away unscathed," the Huntsman stated.

"I…didn't really know how to stop them," Mozenrath admitted. "I was still new to the whole conquest game. I'd only taken over one kingdom; sue me for being green. After that began the plans to take over my second kingdom, then my third, and so on and so forth. My big idea was to employ a Thirdac: a magic-eating monster from another world."

"I am well aware of what a Thirdac is," the Huntsman stated.

"George?"  
"Yes."

"If you ever summon a Thirdac, have a magic-blocking collar ready on the other side of the portal BEFORE it comes out."

The Huntsman had known that, but he left the statement without comment.

"So, after a disaster that occurred through no fault of my own, I suddenly had a Thirdac running around my hard-earned citadel," Mozenrath grumbled. "So, naturally, I hunted down a so-called hero I could hire to take care of it for me. And wouldn't you know it…that's when I found out. The person I found to do the job happened to be the prince of Agrabah. A position he had only gotten because a lamp containing a genie happened to fall into his lap. Now, this would make him annoying enough, but I noticed when he had Cassim's face. And I noticed that his name was the exact same name Cassim and his second wife were going to give their son. My…half-brother." He said the words like a curse. "Aladdin. You know, to this day, he doesn't know what I REALLY am to him. He just thinks I'm that crazy sorcerer who lives a couple of kingdoms over and turns up every now and again with some evil scheme of the week to make him miserable. And, let's be honest, that's not WRONG, per sé. But when all this is said and done, I want to go back to Aladdin and personally see to it that he gets what he REALLY deserves. I already got what I did." He held his skeletal hand up in front of his face. "For the most part. He'll never know what it's like to die for what you really want."

"I shall be proud to assist you when that day comes," the Huntsman said solemnly.

Mozenrath struggled back up into a sitting position; he was growing uncomfortable with looking too vulnerable in front of the Huntsman. He wanted to be impressive instead. "And that basically brings you up to speed," he concluded. "I'm so CLOSE now, George. True, I may have lost my first claim to territory to Maleficent…but look at what we have instead."

"It will be impressive indeed," the Huntsman said with another nod. "And I've no doubt that you can make it work."

"After all I've sacrificed," Mozenrath muttered, "it's about time things go my way." He shrugged. "Well, at least one thing is definitely coming up roses."

"And what is that?"

"It should be more obvious to you than anyone," Mozenrath stated. "I have loyal allies. And, while at first, I didn't see the appeal of living, breathing allies that retained free will instead of the obedient undead type…or, in Aghoul's case, I guess, undead, non-breathing allies that retain free will…but now, I'm more than used to it. I actually have…friends. Still getting used to that word."

"It's an odd term for us," the Huntsman agreed, "but it seems to be the only fitting one. I am proud to be yours."

"And I'm glad I'm yours, George."

The Huntsman, suddenly overcome with the drive to follow a newly installed desire, reached out with his right hand. "Your hand," he said, somewhat unsure. "Might I…?"

"I don't see why not," Mozenrath answered, extending his bony right hand. Though he could think of a few reasons why not. The fact that the Huntsman touching any part of him suddenly made him feel overheated, like the rushing of his blood was speeding up ever faster.

The Huntsman took Mozenrath's hand into both of his own, gently running the pads of his fingers over the joints and the small, delicate bones. He knew he could break them right then if he wished, but the very thought horrified him. The hand was a true phenomenon of magic, but as much as that appealed to the Huntsman, that wasn't the reason he wanted to keep ahold of it. He simply wished to keep a piece of Mozenrath close to him for a while, within his grasp.

Mozenrath, by that point, had leaned in closer to allow the Huntsman better access to the hand. He scooted in closer still, asking, "Now that you've had your fill of looking at my hand, can I examine something of yours in exchange?"  
"What did you have in mind?" the Huntsman asked, idly turning Mozenrath's hand over.

"That birthmark of yours," Mozenrath stated.

The Huntsman gave him a single nod. "Whatever you wish."

Mozenrath touched the zenith of the mark on the Huntsman's face with the tip of his bare right finger, tracing it down his neck, over his chest then, adding the rest of his right fingertips. The gentle, light brush of the bones was exhilarating, leaving the Huntsman's skin tingling, making him wish for still more.

Mozenrath looked up into the Huntsman's eyes then. "You know," he teased, "we're close enough that I could kiss you if I wanted. But I'm guessing you'd probably break my neck if I tried something like that."

"Perhaps I want you to," the Huntsman confessed. "And perhaps there's a reason you brought up that incredibly particular scenario."

They maintained eye contact for a moment longer before Mozenrath leaned in close to the Huntsman's face, pausing momentarily, giving the Huntsman a final chance to take back what he'd said. The Huntsman, instead, closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Mozenrath's. The kiss started out soft, gentle, barely a touch at all, but then grew more forceful, more passionate, as both realized what they were truly doing, what they truly wanted of each other. Mozenrath's skeletal hand gripped hard over the Huntsman's shoulder; it hurt to have the bones dig in that way, but the Huntsman almost found the sensation pleasurable. His hands found their way around Mozenrath's slender waist, pulling him closer.

Mozenrath was the first to withdraw. "Maybe 'friends' isn't the right word for the two of us specifically," he admitted.

"I should say it isn't anymore," the Huntsman confirmed.

With that agreed upon, they entered a second kiss.

...

"You don't really think they're…?" Yzma said in disbelief.

"Whatever they're doing," Xayide pointed out, "it's too quiet for us to listen to."

Eavesdropping had been Yzma's first suggestion as soon as she and Xayide had entered their tent, and Xayide had been all too ready to provide a spell, in the form of a giant listening ear made of purple aura, that provided an audio window into the adjacent tent.

"I find talk of love utterly boring," Xayide continued. "Perhaps now is a good place to end this."

"Depending on what they're doing," Yzma added, "we may not WANT to hear what comes next."

Xayide dismissed the ear, and the two women only had each other to listen to within their sleeping space.

"I have never seen the use of love," Xayide confessed, conjuring up a bowl of a pasty green face mask and two brushes; she began using the brush to apply the paste liberally to her skin. "It interferes with wisdom and power."

"Like what they have is 'love,'" Yzma sighed, taking her own brush up to begin coating her own face. "You're right, you know. Actual love gets in the way of everything. But I don't see the harm in what they're doing."

"You wait and see," Xayide bet. "What seems like harmless fun will become a hindrance. Sooner or later, they will realize they love each other, and then they will fall."

"And let me guess," Yzma replied, deadpan. "This ruins your plans for Fantastican domination."

"Perhaps."

"If you so much as think about sabotaging them to get what you want," Yzma threatened, "I'll turn you into a slug. And don't think I won't know it was you that did it when it happens."

"It won't happen," Xayide promised. "Why do you wish to protect them so much?"

"Being comrades in arms on a multitude of worlds while trying to plunder for magical resources will do that to you," Yzma said with a shrug.

"Are you sure it has nothing to do with the newfound knowledge that Mozenrath lost his mother?"

"You're suggesting that I - !" Yzma broke out into somewhat forced laughter. "Me! Filling in for his mother! HA! Now there's a laugh. Like I want to waste my time babysitting a petulant child of a sorcerer. Come to think of it, I'm already the only adult in the entire WHAM ARMY."

"I do hope that Mozenrath and the Huntsman don't take time out to magically listen in on us," Xayide commented.

"Trust me, I spent too long raising self-absorbed emperors to want to do THAT anymore," Yzma insisted. "If Mozenrath wants to go swimming in a crocodile-infested river, I'm not going to be the one who drags him out."

Xayide nodded, though she still had her doubts about what Yzma was saying. "So what is your story?"

"My story?" Yzma was caught off guard.

"We heard Mozenrath's story, and the Huntsman's," Xayide reminded her. "What is yours?"

"Mine…?" Yzma shrugged again. "I had a really good childhood. Everything was fine."

"Truly?"

"Well, I mean, I was jealous of the royal family," Yzma admitted. "But I wasn't the palace laughingstock – before Kuzco took over the throne, anyway - nor did I have either of my parents murdered in front of me. I grew up as the daughter of the royal mortician, and when he passed on, they asked me to take over the family business, but I said I'd be of much more use as an advisor to the royal family, and after they let me sit in on a few decisive meetings and listened to my input, they agreed and let me have the position. Which was probably a mistake on their part, but, eh, I'm not going to look a gift llama in the mouth. I used to be able to get pretty much anything I wanted back in my spring chicken days. I was a lot prettier then. Like you are."

Xayide smiled and nodded at the compliment.

"Ah, the hosts of men I used to be able to put under my spell…figuratively, I mean," Yzma went on. "Around here, I realize, you need to clarify that sort of thing. But there was no shortage of attractive men knocking on my door. And a few attractive women, though that had to be kept a little more hush-hush. I would say those were the golden days…but that would imply the golden days aren't still AHEAD of me. And now that I'm traveling with present company, I can be all the more sure they are. So what about you? What's YOUR story?"

Xayide almost laughed. "My story is the least engaging of all, I am afraid. When Bastian, the great storyteller, arrived in this world, he gave stories to most of the people and places he encountered, even granting an origin to Amarganth and explaining its silver shine. But he never gave a story to me. I was simply the witch who lived in the fortress in the midst of the orchids. That is all I ever have been."

"Having a story is overrated anyway," Yzma said with a wave of her hand. "You heard how weepy those two nearly got over theirs."

"Oh, don't get me wrong," Xayide stated. "I completely agree." Her smile grew much more playful then. "I do hope you don't require a story to lull you to sleep."

"Have I not made it clear that among present company, I am the only adult?" Yzma stressed. "Well, now you're here, so I suppose the two of us have to be responsible to make up for the two of them over there."

"Duly noted," Xayide replied, laying down upon her carefully built nest of pillows and blankets.

Yzma lay down to sleep herself, wondering if she should say anything to close the conversation, but ultimately deciding "goodnight" was too childish a sentiment. The light in the tent dimmed at Xayide's command, leaving the pair to begin drifting to sleep.

Xayide's voice cut across the silence and the darkness like a blade: "You needn't worry."

"Hm?"

"I will not sabotage Mozenrath or the Huntsman. I am rather fond of their style, after all."

"Even though them apparently having a makeout session somehow puts your plans for world domination at risk?"

"You are strange folk, all three of you," Xayide said cryptically. "There is more to all of you than meets the eye. I still do not know how, exactly, you came to be in Fantastica. This leads me to believe you have depths and strengths even I cannot foresee. I suspect bad things come from giving your heart away. But perhaps you can overcome it. Perhaps you, being what you are, will be able to avoid the fate Bastian met with."

"And what fate was that?"

"He was only human."

Yzma wanted to ask, but she knew the answer would still make no sense. So she let the silence overcome her and Xayide once more until both drifted into dream.

...

The townsfolk of Cheesebridge gathered in a throng in one of the city circuses, where a wooden stage was set up and festooned with plaques that proclaimed its owner was "Larger than life!" among similar boasts. The crowd grew thicker and thicker, Boxtrolls and humans mixing in the fray, as Eggs, Sora, and Riku tried to weave their way to the front of it.

"So this'll explain everything, huh?" Sora reiterated.

"It's Winnie's favorite story," Eggs told him.

A high-pitched voice sounded from behind the curtains of the stage: "Quiet down out there! The show is about to begin!"

"That's her," Eggs said excitedly.

The crowd eventually fell silent, with a few "Hush"es and disturbances here and there. Once everyone had settled, the curtains were flung aside, and a girl Eggs' age, clad in a lacy white frock and with her orange hair bound up in curls. "Welcome, one and all, to the strange tales of Winnie Portley-Rind!" she cried, flinging out her arms as a host of Boxtrolls, her supporting cast, rushed onto the stage on either side of her. "I must warn you now: these stories are not for the faint of heart, and may not be suitable for children of all ages."

"Isn't SHE a child?" Riku muttered.

"What tale shall I tell today, hm?" Winne asked dramatically, beginning a slow pace across the stage. "Do I have any suggestions from the audience?"

"Tell our story, Winnie!" Eggs yelled enthusiastically.

"Oh, everyone's heard that story," Winnie dismissed. "Unless…you WANT to hear my rendition of the tale of Eggs the Boxboy and his amazing adventures again?"

A loud cheer went up from the audience.

"The tale of Eggs it is!" Winnie decided, clapping her hands together. The Boxtrolls onstage scurred about to get into position for the tale. Once everyone was in place, Winnie cleared her throat loudly. "It all began on one dark and bitterly cold night! The inventor Herbert Trubshaw – who you all know today as Jelly – was hard at work on his latest project. And he was working on it with his son, who was only a small baby."

One of the Boxtrolls had wrapped up a metal canister in a blanket to use as a prop, acting the part of a doting father cradling his child and talking to it sweetly.

"But then…" Winnie stopped to consider. "You know what would make this tale even more fun? A volunteer from the audience to play the ghastly villain of our story. Do I have any volunteers?"

"OOH!" Sora immediately stuck a hand in the air, waving it back and forth. "ME! ME! PICK ME!"

"You wanna play the villain?" Riku laughed.

"It looks like fun!" Sora rebutted.

"Well, aren't we enthusiastic!" Winnie gushed. "Come on up here!"

Sora immediately bolted onto the stage, at which point Winnie handed him a battered red top hat. "Here," she told him. "You're going to need to wear this to look the part."

Something about the hat stirred in Sora's memory, but he wasn't quite sure exactly what it meant. He shrugged and settled it atop his head. "How do I look? Evil?"

"Positively sinister!" Winnie replied, though Sora couldn't have looked less so. "And so, enter our villain, the despicable Archibald Snatcher!"

"That's right!" Sora turned to the audience. "I'm the bad guy!"

"On that fateful night," Winnie continued, "Snatcher came up with an absolutely horrifying plan. You see, he wanted to be one of the White Hats and have all the power to run the town that came with it. In order to do that, he came up with a complicated scheme, and first, it involved kidnapping the son of the best inventor in town: Herbert Trubshaw himself!"

After a moment of awkward silence, Winnie leaned over to Sora, hissing out of the side of her mouth, "Take the baby."

"Oh, right!" Sora rushed toward the Boxtroll actor portraying Jelly, whisking the bundle out of his hands. "Now your son is mine!"

"But the clever Boxtrolls managed to save the baby and bring him to their underground sanctum, where they raised him as their own and gave him the name of 'Eggs,'" Winnie went on.

Three Boxtrolls rushed Sora, who, knowing his part, dropped the bundle on the floor. "Oh, no!" he yelled. "The Boxtrolls took the baby!"

"Which is EXACTLY what he said to my father, Lord Portley-Rind," Winnie narrated as another Boxtroll donned a white top hat and strode toward Sora. "He wanted to blame the Boxtrolls for taking the Trubshaw baby, and he claimed they had cannibalized the child. This was all because…he wanted an excuse to KILL THE BOXTROLLS!"

A gasp went out over the audience, even though they'd seen this before; even though most of the humans, not too long ago, had thought that the death of the Boxtrolls would be a blessing rather than a curse.

"The Boxtrolls have stolen a baby, Lord White Hat!" Sora insisted. "And I don't mean from me! The only thing to do is KILL ALL THE BOXTROLLS!" Then, worrying his performance was getting a bit too convincing, he leaned down to whisper to his co-star, "Not really, though. Just for the play."

The Boxtroll hadn't been worried. He gave an official-looking nod and commanded Sora, in his own language, to deal with the Boxtrolls however he felt best.

"And so, for ten years, while the Boxtrolls brought up Eggs in safety," Winnie continued as a group of Boxtrolls passed the bundle from one to the other and eventually traded it out for another Boxtroll wearing a box that read "EGGS," "Snatcher and his associates kidnapped all of the Boxtrolls one by one, putting them to work building a terrible machine."

All Sora had to do was raise his arms above his head and go "Raaaaargh!" and several more of the Boxtroll actors, putting on their best display of fear, rushed to a pile of spare mechanical parts on the side of the stage and did their best to arrange it in a shape vaguely resembling a doomsday device.

And so the story went on and on. Winnie regaled the audience with how Eggs grew up to venture bravely into the aboveground streets of Cheesebridge, looking for his kidnapped foster parent Fish. She related the thrilling tale of how she and Eggs had nearly been taken hostage by Snatcher and his crew of red-hatted men. The audience laughed as she told them of Eggs' first attempts to blend in at her father's soirée at which he intended to expose Snatcher's scheme, and gasped as she revealed that Snatcher was the true identity of the woman they'd all come to know as Madame Frou Frou, spreading "her" propaganda that Boxtrolls were creatures of pure evil to be slain. All the while, Sora perhaps overacted his part, acting flamboyantly (if not convincingly) menacing. He had a feeling that Winnie had told the part of the final confrontation many times before, but each time had more detail than the last: Snatcher nearly being given his White Hat in exchange for the murder of Eggs, Jelly and the Boxtrolls turning up to save Eggs just in time, Snatcher taking control of the immense device and trying to use it to destroy Cheesebridge's elite to get his hat once and for all, and the way circumstance lined up so that Snatcher's deadly allergy was revealed at the moment of his final bargain for a White Hat.

"And there we were, in the Tasting Room, all of us knowing what was about to happen, poised somewhere between the excitement of waiting for it and the disgust of what was to come," Winnie said dramatically. "He lifted the bite of cheese to his lips and stuck out his swollen, disgusting tongue."

Sora mimed eating a small bite of cheese as daintily as he could, suspecting the real version of events was far less poised.

"And as he swallowed it, we were on the edges of our seats," Winnie continued. "There was a long silence at first. Then, just as he began to try and describe the taste of the cheese…it happened. KABOOM! HE EXPLODED, AND HIS BLOOD AND ORGANS RAINED DOWN FROM THE CEILING!"

Sora figured he might as well give the people a show. He called the Keyblade to hand, whispering, "Fire!" Spinning around, he created the effect of an explosion of flame that burst out several feet from him, then dissipated before anything or anyone could be set afire. The audience, believing this to be some sort of stage illusion, cheered in awe. Sora then slumped down to lie on the floor of the stage, miming death.

"And ever since then, Boxtrolls and humans have lived in harmony in our town!" Winnie proclaimed. "All thanks to Eggs and me! You're welcome!"

As the applause went up, Winnie bowed, absorbing the praise with pride. "Thank you, thank you!" She then hopped offstage and into the crowd, dusting off her frock. Sora rose and followed her, as did their other co-stars.

Once Sora and Winnie were down on the street, Winnie complimented, "You made quite a convincing Snatcher. I KNEW you were the right choice for the part."

"Thanks!" Sora replied with a grin. "But I couldn't have done it without a great storyteller giving me my cues!"

They met up with Eggs and Riku. "So?" Winnie asked. "How was I?"  
"Wonderful, as usual!" Eggs proclaimed. Looking back around to Sora and the Boxtrolls who had filled in to play the rest of the cast, he added, "And so were all of you!"

"So that's why humans and Boxtrolls were separated in the beginning," Riku said, half to himself. "Snatcher was playing on your fears to keep you apart."

"I'm afraid it went back further than him," Eggs stated. "He just told everyone what they already thought about Boxtrolls, which wasn't true at all."

"So these are friends of yours?" Winnie broke in.

Eggs nodded. "Winnie, do you remember that conversation we had about…other worlds?"

"I do," Winnie reminded him. "And I remember telling you that I'd believe you when you brought back proof that they existed." Growing more excited, she asked, "Well? Do you have proof?"

"I have them," Eggs replied, gesturing to Sora and Riku.

Winnie gasped, noting Riku's silver hair despite his young age, the way the two youths were dressed. "Well, at the very least, you aren't from this town!" she realized. "I'm Winifred Portley-Rind. You can call me 'Winnie,' of course."

"I'm Sora!" Sora said enthusiastically.

"And I'm Riku," Riku added. Glancing to Sora, he commented, "You can probably take that hat off now."

"Oh, right!" Sora reached up to remove the tattered hat from his head, turning it over in his hands.

"I can't believe it!" Winnie squealed as the crowd dispersed. "People from other worlds! Right here! And I'm MEETING them!"

"Wait a minute…" Sora interrupted. It had hit home. "RED HAT?"

"What's wrong?" Eggs asked.

"I know this hat!" Sora answered. "Well, okay, not THIS hat, but I know the real one! What did Snatcher look like? Do you have a picture?"

"Er…" Eggs was at a loss. "I suppose we could try and draw you one…"

One of the Boxtrolls, bearing a box that named him "Gears," withdrew a pencil and a small sketchpad from within his box, handing them over to Eggs. Eggs did his best to try and recreate his vision of the man who had so very nearly killed him and everyone he loved on the tiny paper.

"Oh, give me that!" Winnie swiped pen and paper away from Eggs. "You're drawing him wrong!" She added a few quick strokes before turning the paper around so Sora could see. It was obviously a drawing made by two children, but it was similar enough that Sora's suspicions were confirmed.

"That's him!" Sora cried. "He's one of the guys we've been fighting!"

"But…you heard Winnie's story," Eggs reminded him. "Mr. Snatcher is dead."

"We've thought that about our enemies before," Riku said solemnly. "Xehanort, Maleficent…"

"All right," Winnie sighed, "I was willing to believe other worlds, but people coming back from the dead is just ridiculous."

"Not as ridiculous as you'd think," Riku replied.

Winnie put both hands on her hips. "Explain."

"It'll take a while," Sora informed her. "And if we're going to tell our story, we'll probably need some volunteers from the audience."

Gears immediately put his hand into the air and waved it; he was joined by several other Boxtrolls who were eager to hear and act out a new tale from beyond Cheesebridge.

"Count me in!" Eggs added.

"Well, then," Winnie commanded, "impress me."

...

There was more than enough room in the Agrabanian palace to set the myriad of guests up with rooms for the night, though some quarters had to be shared. As night fell, sleep overtook almost everyone in the palace. For the most part, the exception was the night guards, who patrolled to make sure no one made a post-sunset assault on the palace and the treasures within.

The other exception lay within the room where Papyrus and Stork had been assigned to share a room. Both had lain down with the intent to sleep, but neither could. Papyrus, to begin with, was used to a certain routine back at his home. Silly as it was, he had become accustomed to Sans telling him a story every night, mostly reading it out of one of his books but sometimes making something up based on what he'd witnessed in his daily routine, before Papyrus could get any sleep at all. He usually drifted off hearing the words. He supposed tonight, he would just have to deal without.

He was then made aware of the sound of his roommate getting up out of bed and making for the door. This made Papyrus incredibly curious. What could Stork possibly be doing at that time of night, and was it any of his business? Perhaps he should just leave it alone.

But he couldn't think of a single reason Stork would have left the room. He didn't know this palace or anywhere else on this world, so where did he have to go? Was Stork all right? Did he have some sort of problem keeping him awake that required the attention of a friend? Maybe Papyrus should have gotten up the moment he heard Stork leave. Either way, he wasn't getting any sleep, so he figured he might as well try and figure out where Stork had gone.

Papyrus crept into the hallway to find that Stork was long out of sight. He wandered the palace, trying to figure out which way his black-haired roommate had gone, before he turned a sharp corner and accidentally knocked over a gold ornament on a pedestal. He quickly caught the statue before it could fall and hit the floor, replacing it on its column, but not without making a lot of noise that woke up one nearby sleeper. As Papyrus settled the statue back in place, he was suddenly aware of Jasmine, hair loose and dressed in sleepwear, stepping out into the hallway. "Papyrus?" she asked. "What are you doing?"

"OH, HELLO, PRINCESS JASMINE!" Papyrus gave a somewhat embarrassed wave. "SORRY FOR WAKING YOU UP. I WAS JUST LOOKING FOR STORK."

"What's wrong with Stork?"

"I DON'T EXACTLY KNOW. I JUST KNOW I WAS TRYING TO FALL ASLEEP, WHICH IS VERY HARD TO DO WITHOUT A BEDTIME STORY, BUT, BEING THE BRAVE AND TALENTED HERO I AM, I WAS ABOUT TO ACCOMPLISH…AND I HEARD HIM GET UP AND OUT OF BED AND LEAVE THE ROOM. I THOUGHT SOMETHING MIGHT BE WRONG, SO I WENT AFTER HIM, BUT I WASN'T FAST ENOUGH, AND NOW I LOST HIM."

"Hmm." Jasmine thought it over. "I'll help you find him. I want be sure he's all right."

"ONWARD!" Papyrus declared. "ON OUR NIGHTTIME QUEST!"

Jasmine, rubbing the last of the sleep out of her eyes, nodded affirmatively.

It took them a while, but Jasmine and Papyrus eventually found Stork on one of the outdoor balconies, leaning on the rail as he surveyed the nighttime city. "Stork?" Jasmine asked softly.

"GAH!" Stork flinched, clutching the rail hard so that he didn't accidentally go bowling over it. He turned on a dime to face his visitors; "Can I HELP you?"

"WE WERE WONDERING WHY YOU WERE OUT OF BED," Papyrus said plainly.

"Papyrus and I were worried something might be wrong," Jasmine added.

"Oh," Stork replied, his heart rate finally slowing down from the startling. "It's nothing. Just my usual insomnia."

"Usual?" Jasmine repeated. "This happens a lot to you?"

"Almost every night," Stork confirmed. "You know that feeling where you're just laying in bed and all of a sudden you start thinking about everything that could possibly go wrong the next day, and then it turns into thinking about all the horrible fates that could befall you that very night if you dare close your eyes?"

Jasmine and Papyrus looked to each other; neither was familiar with that experience.

"…Just me, then," Stork sighed. "I just came out here because the view's better. Don't worry about me. If I fall asleep, it'll probably just be nightmares anyway." His strangely sinister smile crept back up over his face; "Though I have had some pretty good nightmares."

"You shouldn't have to feel that afraid," Jasmine told him. "I just wish there was something we could do to help you sleep better."

Stork shrugged. "It's really not a big deal – "

Jasmine was struck with an idea, recalling what Papyrus had said to her when she'd found him out of bed. "What if I told you a story? Maybe I could make up something that would chase all the nightmares away. Or, if you wanted, I could try to make it match the nightmares."

"You…want to tell me a bedtime story," Stork repeated, deadpan.

"Papyrus wanted one anyway," Jasmine told him, matter-of-fact. "It's your choice if you want to be in the same room or not. I just thought it might be helpful."

After a moment's deliberation, Stork nodded. "Sure. I'll give it a shot."

In a few minutes, Papyrus and Stork were back in their shared room, Jasmine taking her place in the center of the chamber. Papyrus snuggled eagerly against his pillows in anticipation; Stork was unsure of what to expect.

Jasmine was all too happy to think of a story to tell the both of them, and she thought back to the time she had been able to pacify the fickle King Mahmoud's anger fits with her tales. She rather wanted to see if she could outdo herself when it came to tale-telling. "Once upon a time…" she began.

She then launched into a tale of a heroine on a grand adventure, with obstacles inspired by encounters she and Aladdin had faced in life. It was by no means a short story. When she noticed Stork rolling his eyes, yet not being bored enough to actually drift off, Jasmine made the monster the heroine fought scarier, with sharp teeth and monstrous claws. This held Stork's attention better. But when Papyrus began to fret, Jasmine changed the tale yet again, defeating the monster easily in favor of the heroine beginning to sail over a calm blue sea.

There was a soft knock at the door, and Jasmine, Papyrus, and Stork all looked up to see Ruby standing in the chamber entrance. "Sorry," Ruby said softly. "I heard you telling your story from next door – "

"WERE WE KEEPING YOU AWAKE?" Papyrus asked worriedly.

Ruby shook her head. "Well, okay, a little, but I mostly just wanted to say it's really, really good. And I kinda wanna know how it ends."

"I don't even really know how it ends myself," Jasmine admitted. "Do you have any ideas?"

"Not for endings," Ruby admitted. "But it does seem a little weird that the main character is doing everything alone. Doesn't she have any friends that go with her?"

"You're right," Jasmine realized. "She should have friends. Luckily, we were just about to get to the part where she meets one of them. If you want to hear it…"

Ruby immediately rushed to sit cross-legged on the foot of Stork's bed.

Jasmine resumed the tale, but this time, Ruby would interject with ideas of how it should go every now and again, and Jasmine let her come up with longer and longer parts. This inspired Papyrus to make his own additions to the story, largely revolving around a courageous skeleton in a red cape. Stork, unexpectedly, found himself making contributions every now and again, suggesting horrible fates of doom for the heroes to face in hopes that Ruby, Jasmine, and Papyrus would be able to figure out how to find a glimmer of hope and pull the characters out of danger – which they always did.

Then, at last, they reached a point at which every plot thread had been tied up and every monster beaten. "She lay down in her bed, because she was very, very tired," Jasmine finished, "and she got some incredibly well-deserved sleep. And that's the end."

"THAT WAS VERY GOOD," Papyrus complimented. "I THINK I'M FINALLY – " He yawned. " – TIRED."

"Me too," Ruby said wearily. "What about you, Stork – "

Stork's only reply was a loud snore.

"Goodnight, everyone," Jasmine said with a soft laugh.

"Thanks for the story!" Ruby said as she dragged her way off Stork's bed and plodded to her room.

"You're very welcome," Jasmine replied. Feeling quite ready to get some sleep herself, she left the room, beginning the trek down the halls to her and Aladdin's bedchamber.

"PRINCESS!" Razoul came barreling down the corridor toward her. "There you are! Where have you been?"

"Just telling a bedtime story to someone who needed it," Jasmine replied somewhat sleepily, confused as to why Razoul had been so concerned with her location. "And now I think it's time for me to get some sleep of my own."

"Erm, princess…" Razoul informed her, "it's already dawn. Your husband and family were concerned when you were not to be found in your bed."

Jasmine blinked in surprise. "Oh." Then, overcome by just how amusing the situation was, she couldn't help but laugh.


	30. Fire Meet Gasoline

A/N: A couple worlds based on animated series revolving around DC comics appear here. One of them is the world of the DC animated universe/Justice League/Unlimited. The timeframe is just after Justice League ends and right before Unlimited begins. The other, which gets more screen time here, is based on the 2004-2008 animated series The Batman. (I'm hoping it's not too hard to tell which is which.) The timeframe is post-series. It also takes my fanfiction "Arsonist, Contortionist, Psychologist" as canon and is set after that. I'm going to try and include enough exposition that you don't have to read that for this to make sense.

...

30\. Fire Meet Gasoline

With his head resting atop crossed arms on the table in one of the larger kitchens of the ex-Cyclonian warship, Roman Torchwick was obviously sulking. It didn't take an expert people-reader to see it. The minute Archibald Snatcher entered the room, he was practically slapped in the face by the aura of sulk. "All right," he sighed, "what's wrong?"

"Y'know what I miss?" Roman replied. "The days when I used to have Vale running scared from me. When I actually had a stomping ground."

"Apparently, Lord Mozenrath has a plan to return that to you and give the rest of us our share," Snatcher reminded him. "And good things do come to those who wait." He took a seat across from Roman, sitting up straight as a direct contrast to Roman's slump, staring the redhead right in the eye.

"Ehhhhh," Roman groaned. "I'm not that patient. You know what I want to do?"

"Why do I sense somewhat of a bad idea coming, Torchwick?"

"Because I have a bad idea. But I think you're going to go along with it anyway."

"Most likely," Snatcher admitted. "Let's hear it, then."

"So Righty's gone for who knows how long," Roman pointed out. "What do you say we pick a world, take the Gummi Ship out, and establish a little criminal empire of our own in the meantime? Just until he gets back. Or maybe longer if he doesn't need us. Whaddaya think?" By this time, Roman had abandoned his slump, adopting a more confident posture. "Because, of course, if I do this, I'm not doing it without you."

"Well, I'm quite flattered," Snatcher replied. "First of all, I have to ask. Are you truly wistful for your past position of power, or is this born out of your humiliation by Snipe at moto-jousting?"

"Little of both," Roman admitted.

"So long as Lord Mozenrath doesn't have need of our services," Snatcher mused. "I suppose there would be nothing wrong with embarking on a little…vacation. Leaving our scroll numbers with the others so we're at ready contact when needed. Perhaps Lord Mozenrath will thank us for the effort if we conquer something particularly delicious."

"Exactly!" Roman pounded his fist on the table. "The one thing standing in our way is that I have no idea where to even start looking for a world where we can build a criminal empire."

"Did someone say 'criminal empire'?" Mim interrupted, walking into the kitchen flanked by Ayam Aghoul.

"Were…you just waiting for somebody somewhere in the base to say those words?" Snatcher asked.

Mim waved away his question. "I've been to many, many worlds where becoming a big-name criminal would be easy! Almost too easy to be fun, in fact. So I mostly left them alone. But you'll need a big city, won't you?"

"Preferably," Roman answered.

"Then I know just the place!" Mim chirped. "There's a string of interconnected parallel worlds with only minor differences between each. And all of them feature one particularly ne'er-do-well infested city. The question is WHICH version of this city to go after. The seventh? The twelfth? The thirteenth? Ohhh, somebody just pick a number between one and one thousand!"

"I've always liked 42," Aghoul confessed. "Something about it just seems…morbid."

"Then the 42nd it is!" Mim crowed, throwing out a Corridor of Darkness in the middle of the kitchen.

"Should we not alert the others as to our absence?" Snatcher brought up.

"We'll leave a note on the fridge." Mim snapped her fingers, and a sheet of paper with a neatly written explanation appeared on the refrigerator, held in place by a magnet shaped like a skull.

"Ummmm, more importantly…" Roman wagged a finger between Mim and Aghoul. "WHEN DID I INVITE YOU TWO?"

"You really think we want to stay around while Snipe turns this place into a jousting arena?" Aghoul huffed with hands on hips.

"Besides," Mim added, "as much as I adore sorcery, I always have had an affinity for non-magical crime. Bank heists, hostage situations – what fun!"

"Do you have a secret criminal life I don't know about…?" Roman asked, but by that time, Mim was already marching through the Corridor, with Aghoul close behind. "Okay, WAIT FOR ME, this was MY IDEA – " he sputtered as he rushed after them. Snatcher hurried through the portal just before it closed.

...

Mozenrath stirred; dawn had come, and the strange sounds of birds he'd never heard before echoing faintly in the distance had pulled his consciousness out of sleep. He felt strangely at peace as he slowly woke, eyes still closed, taking stock of the position he was in. The floor was still pillowy-soft, and he was enveloped in a pair of warm arms –

Mozenrath immediately scrambled out of the Huntsman's grip, which was surprisingly easy to break for a man with such burly arms. The Huntsman still lay asleep on the floor, an oddly tranquil sight, his chest softly rising and falling as he breathed in silently, making the dragon mark that traversed his body look as though it were stirring. Mozenrath backed off, standing up to look the Huntsman over and think about the events of the night prior.

They'd kissed for a very long time, hungry for each other in a way they hadn't realized. While they had considered taking it further, they ultimately decided it didn't make sense to do so in their current setting and had instead just lay down, bare-chested (and bare-armed, Mozenrath realized; he quickly swiped up his gauntlet from a nearby pillow and jammed his skeletal hand into it), in each other's embrace, falling asleep next to each other. And it had felt absolutely wonderful.

Romance was something Mozenrath had made it a point not to think about. Lust, he had let into his life every now and again, but never anything deep. He hadn't even really thought about whether he were straight, gay, or anywhere in between. He supposed he had a little insight into that direction now.

He was standing on fearsome ground. Letting himself be so attached, so vulnerable, might just be his ruination. Thinking back to his tale of woe the night before, he recalled how much unnecessary heartache he had allowed to come over himself due to his love for his mother, though, to be fair, that was a completely different sort of affection. Friendship was fine, but this was something else, something riskier. He had obviously made a mistake, and it was only right that he wake the Huntsman immediately and inform him that there would be no more of that nonsense.

But he couldn't do it.

He made several false starts to reach out to the Huntsman's sleeping body, but new perspectives kept pulling him back. Was this really as bad as it seemed? After all, Roman, Snatcher, Mim, and Aghoul had all allowed themselves to give in to romantic affection, and somehow it had bolstered them, made them stronger as teammates. Perhaps if Mozenrath and the Huntsman had that sort of bond, it would benefit them both.

But that also meant their enemies could use them as bargaining chips against each other. If Mozenrath clearly allowed the Huntsman into his heart, he knew he would soon see Maleficent offering him the Huntsman's life on a platter in exchange for all his power, or, even worse, Maleficent offering the Huntsman Mozenrath's life in exchange for the same.

But that would happen anyway, Mozenrath reasoned. So long as they even had so much as an alliance, there was that risk. And the alliance was far too beneficial – and rewarding in other ways – to give up.

The WHAM ARMY had, on several occasions, made Mozenrath happier than he knew he had any business being. But being kissed, being touched by the Huntsman put every other moment to shame. How long, he wondered, had they been kindred souls? They seemed like opposites on the outside, but beneath the surface, Mozenrath and the Huntsman shared the same drive, the same ferocity, the same respect for magic. And the Huntsman had unfailingly been there when Mozenrath needed him every time since their first meeting. Between the Huntsman carrying him to safety during the assault on the dragon Grimm and the Huntsman speaking to Mozenrath during his paralysis on Atmos to keep him from breaking down within his own mind, Mozenrath realized he probably owed the Huntsman a debt, one that the Huntsman had never brought up or enforced.

Which brought him to thinking about the man himself. Something about the Huntsman's stoic strength appealed to Mozenrath greatly. He conducted himself with a certain grace. He wasn't one to be messed with largely because the Huntsman himself believed he wasn't to be messed with, and that showed right through. It was thoroughly attractive. Mozenrath realized, stunned, that the Huntsman had been slowly worming his way into the young sorcerer's affections for quite a while, and apparently Mozenrath had done the same right back.

A brief flicker of doubt crossed his mind; what if the Huntsman had only shown affection out of pity? What if he truly didn't look at Mozenrath the way Mozenrath now looked at the Huntsman? But Mozenrath stuffed that thought angrily away. Of course he was attractive, and the Huntsman should have been able to see that easily.

Mozenrath located the rest of his clothing, slipping into it before sitting back down to just let his eyes travel over the sleeping Huntsman's body. He had no shortage of physical beauty, either. His solid musculature, his strong facial features, the eyes that were currently closed but were normally so piercingly red.

Then those eyes opened.

"Good morning, sunshine," Mozenrath said with a smirk.

"…Good morning," the Huntsman replied, suddenly having doubts of his own.

"I'm guessing you probably want to talk about what happened last night," Mozenrath opened.

The Huntsman propped himself into a sitting position. Mozenrath levitated his shirt, cape, and tunic over to him; "You'll want these."

The Huntsman set about putting his shirt back in place. "I suppose you have regrets."

"I did," Mozenrath confessed. "But I thought it over, and, really…" He made his decision. "What's to regret?"

"I'm…pleased you feel that way," the Huntsman said gingerly. "I don't connect to others. Not in the way we did."

"I figured."

"This comes with dangers." Now he was slipping his tunic on.

"I thought about that," Mozenrath admitted, "and I'm okay with it if you are."

"I shouldn't be," the Huntsman grunted. "This sort of weakness is unbecoming."

"And yet…?"

Fastening his cape around his shoulders, the Huntsman looked Mozenrath dead in the eye. "You seem to be like none other I've known. Perhaps an exception can be made, if it is for someone…"

"Exceptional?" Mozenrath's eyes twinkled.

"So we are clear," the Huntsman stated, "this is not love."

"I know," Mozenrath replied. It was a relief to hear that. "Love," to him, was a word that encompassed all the vulnerability he wanted to avoid. What he and the Huntsman had was more than lust, more than a "fling," but not "love." It couldn't be "love," for the sake of both of them. They both knew that. "We're clear."

"If we both know where we stand…"

"I think we do."

"In that case." The Huntsman had been in the process of reaching for his balaclava and helmet, but set the articles aside for just a moment so he could lean closer to Mozenrath, taking Mozenrath's chin into one hand. Mozenrath picked up on the cue, closing the distance, gracing the Huntsman's lips with the gentlest of kisses, simply a casual act to reaffirm their bond before getting back down to business.

As the Huntsman withdrew from the kiss, he stated, "I am still wary of what Xayide meant when she said I will not approve of our next destination." He quickly set about replacing his headgear.

"I'm sure she knows what she's doing," Mozenrath replied as he and the Huntsman both stood to leave their tent. "And if she doesn't, it sounds like this world has plenty of perils we can leave her to."

They entered the world of sunlight to see Xayide and Yzma already awake and waiting for them, both women's faces plastered with smug grins. "Is there a problem?" Mozenrath asked, suspicious.

"None whatsoever," Yzma replied.

"We'd best get moving again," Xayide insisted. "The rest of our ranks await."

"Then by all means," Mozenrath replied.

The armor carrying the palanquin was the signal for the Amarganthians to rise and continue their journey forth.

...

While Roman, Snatcher, Mim, and Aghoul traveled to the 42nd iteration of their desired world, events that would cause that iteration to quake were taking place on the 24th.

The alarms at LexCorp had been ringing for more than enough time for Lex Luthor to rush to the scene of the disturbance. He realized he should have seen the identity of the intruder coming the moment he entered his most high-security floor to find all the keypad-encoded doors blown to bits with bombs…and a fair bit of confetti littered on the floor at the edges of the halls. He hurried to the farthest laboratory, already cursing the intruder under his breath; he knew exactly what was there, and it was the absolute worst thing to fall into anyone's hands, let alone the person who was becoming clearer to his view the closer he got: slicked-back hair, bone-white skin, a vibrant suit of purple.

"Lexie!" the Joker cried as he turned to greet Luthor.

"Joker," Lex growled, his eyes flicking from Joker to the device behind him: a large square metal frame set against the wall, connected to a control panel. "Get out."

"Make me," Joker challenged.

Luthor reached for his belt; he'd made sure to come equipped with a gun just in case. But before he could settle his fingers around the weapon, he heard an ominous "click." Joker had an even bigger gun, one perhaps more accurately classified as a cannon, and was pointing it directly at Luthor's head.

"Oh, dear, this is a pickle you're in," Joker taunted. "See, I had plenty of time to poke around and see what toys you were keeping all to yourself. My first stop was your weapons tech division, which is where I got this nifty little thing."

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY TECHNOLOGY!" Luthor roared, knowing full well he could do little else to stop Joker.

"Interrupting," Joker huffed. "How rude. As I was saying, I was about to take my pick from your fabulous array of boom-sticks and bombs, but something completely else caught my eye. A set of notes lying unattended on a table next to a prototype, referring to 'Project Omega.' And the things the notes said about this Project Omega! You really should learn to clean up better after yourself, Lexie. The wrong information could all too easily fall into the wrong hands. Lucky for you, I locked up that notebook before I popped up here to see exactly what Project Omega was."

"You wouldn't dare," Luthor growled.

"And why wouldn't I?" Joker replied. "The notes were even clearer up here. I know exactly what Project Omega is supposed to do now, and I have to say I wasn't expecting you to actually pull something like that off. Now, don't tell me. You thought of it when that fake Justice League crossed from their dimension into ours, didn't you?"

"They called themselves the Justice Lords," Luthor corrected.

"League, Lords, now we're just splitting hairs," Joker said with a wave of the hand not holding the cannon in place. "As soon as you learned that there were other versions of our world out there, you just couldn't leave well enough alone, could you? You wanted to build a gateway to see them for yourself. Maybe, in one of them, you'd actually stand a chance of beating the big blue Boy Scout!"

"STOP TELLING ME THINGS I ALREADY KNOW!"

"Don't get so worked up, Lexie," Joker went on. "Just give me a moment to get settled, and I'll be out of your hair. Or I would be, if you still had any." He slid toward the control panel, activating the machine. The frame filled with shimmering light behind him.

"What do you even hope to gain from this?" Luthor growled. "What interests YOU so much about the other dimensions?"

"Same as you, really," Joker confessed. "Just the off chance that in one of them, the winning hand includes a Joker. THIS Joker, by the by. I don't hold any truck with impostors."

"As much as it horrifies me to think about," Luthor informed him, "there's going to be a Joker in every world you could think of."

"And that means an equal amount of Lexies." Joker gave a dramatic shudder. "Or, even worse…Bats." His fingers hovered over the keypad. "Pick a number between one and one hundred, Lexie. How high does this thing go, anyway?"

"I don't know," Luthor snarled. "And I'm not PLAYING your GAME."

"Forty-two it is, then," Joker decided, keying in the number.

The light of the portal behind him flickered into a definite view, opening into a city alleyway shrouded in the darkness of twilight. "Well, it's been fun, Lexie," Joker teased, "but I've got places to be!" He turned and rushed into the portal.

"YOU'RE NOT GETTING AWAY THAT EASILY!" Luthor drew his gun, ready to fire. Before he could, Joker spun, already standing on the portal's other side, and blasted the cannon once at the portal's control panel. As the cannon's hot blast tore through the panel, Project Omega was destroyed, and the portal fizzled into death, leaving Joker and Luthor stranded on opposite sides.

"NO!" Luthor rushed to the smoking, crackling panel, cradling it like a lover, hoping it was somehow salvageable, but Joker had cut through all the circuitry and melted its most sensitive technology. It would take an indeterminate amount of time to rebuild.

"I hate him," Luthor growled under his breath. "At least he's gone from this world for good…if I'm lucky."

...

At around the same time that the Joker arrived at one end of the 42nd Gotham, Roman, Snatcher, Mim, and Aghoul were making their way through the other.

"So tell me more about this…Gotham City," Roman implored Mim.

"It's jam-packed with criminals and villains of all kinds," Mim explained.

"I could have guessed that just from looking around," Snatcher admitted. "The whole city smells like it's on fire."

"It probably is somewhere," Mim confirmed. "At any given time of day, some part of Gotham is usually on fire. That's what makes it a good place to kill time. Now, I do have to warn you to watch out for the do-gooders. Gotham's villains are all sorts of eccentric, so of course, the people that fight them are just as weird. For the most part, you want to watch out for the one who dresses up as a bat. He isn't magical, but he's still annoying."

"But why a bat?" Aghoul interrupted.

Mim shrugged. "Search me! Anyway, sometimes he gets his other friends involved, and some of THEM have actual powers, so I'd watch my step if I were you."

"So how do we make sure we find the ones who are on OUR side?" Roman asked.

"Well, there are all sorts of wonderfully seedy clubs where the villains come out to play," Mim informed him. "Like that one!"

The building Mim pointed out, its music throbbing out onto the street to the point where the asphalt nearly shook, was not one of the premier hangouts for Gotham's worst. The big-name crime bosses and mobsters preferred larger establishments nestled further downtown. The club Mim had singled out, however, a joint known as "The Fourth Circle," was indeed a villain hotspot: one for Gotham's "second string" of crime.

"Name's promising," Snatcher observed. "Refers to Dante's circles of the inferno. The Fourth Circle was the realm of punishment for the sin of greed."

"You say 'sin' like it's a bad thing," Roman teased, lightly nudging Snatcher's forearm. "Come on. Let's check it out."

The interior of the building was illuminated by strobe lights and overhead lighting of all colors, highlighting a dance floor that took up about half of the facility. Other than that, a darkness hung over the club. The other half was furnished with tables, most of which were occupied.

"You know, I've been to the actual Fourth Circle of the Inferno on vacation," Aghoul commented. "It wasn't as cheerful as this. Though I did see some rather inspiring use of bludgeons."

"Okay," Roman muttered, half to himself and half to his companions. "So how do we go about discreetly asking who here is a villain bent on conquest without tipping off people who really shouldn't know what we came here for?" As soon as the question left his lips, he looked to Snatcher, as did Mim and Aghoul.

"I'll handle it," Snatcher confirmed. "Just let me do the talking."

"You boys wouldn't be interested in a dance first, would you?" Mim suggested. "That floor does look inviting!"

"Not right now," Roman told her. "We're here on business, remember?"

"Perhaps later," Snatcher added. "If whatever associates we require approve of it."

"Ghoulie?" Mim practically begged. "Spare me a dance?"

"I wish I could, my little corpseflower," Aghoul replied, cupping Mim's face in one clammy hand, "but Roman's right. Finding fellow villains comes first!"

"Well, while you're all busy being spoilsports," Mim huffed, "I'll be on the dancefloor! Come find me when you've finished up the boring stuff!" She turned to stride toward the throng of dancers. Midstep, she decided that perhaps it would suit her, for the sake of entertainment, to adopt a look she knew would be more enticing to potential dance partners, as well as allowing her to match their average height. Her shape changed from short and squat to tall and hourglass-esque, her lavender hair cascading back down her shoulders, her entire face smoothing out into a completely different visage. As soon as she stepped onto the floor, heads turned by the dozen.

"Okay," Roman remarked. "While she goes and does THAT, let's get to business."

Snatcher had already approached a tall and imposing-looking man wearing a suit. "Pardon me, sir…"

No shortage of men wanted to dance with Mim, which pleased her immensely. She was no slouch at dancing, bouncing energetically to the music; her current partner became hypnotized by her shapeshifted body, stopping and simply staring. Little did he know Mim had been observed from across the floor with someone with a more aesthetic eye for dancing. The man was gently pushed aside by a newcomer, who tapped Mim on the shoulder, getting her to stop long enough to look at him. "Mind if I cut in?"

Mim paused to size up her new prospective dance partner: a tall man, his hair a dishwater blond color, with a sharply angled face. He wore a formal suit that billowed about him, showing off the gangly outline of his thin body. And upon his face, there was a broad, toothy smile that almost seemed luminous. That smile enticed Mim, indicating to her that this man was different from the average dance partner. "If you can keep up," she told him.

"I don't think that will be a problem," the man replied, his grin widening.

They began to dance. Mim spun and shimmied as her partner complemented her movements, moving fluidly and gracefully. He took her hands, and they spun each other, dipped each other in an alternating pattern, quickstepped and chasséd. It didn't take long before the rest of the dancers found themselves no longer dancing but instead watching this couple, envying their energy and skill.

"You're not bad," the blond man said softly into Mim's ear.

"You're no slouch either, Prince Charming," Mim replied as he spun her and pulled her back into his arms again.

"Oh, don't get the wrong idea," he told her as he dipped her low to the floor. "I'm already quite attached to someone. You could say I'm tied in knots around him. I'm not here to be your Prince Charming. I was just looking for a little bit of fun, that's all."

"Well, you looked in the right place," Mim informed him, only slightly disappointed that he wasn't available – his dancing prowess had made her wonder if he was worth scoping out as her next partner to accompany Aghoul on the romance front. "Though I have to warn you that this flower has lots and lots of thorns."

"Oh?" he pulled her up and began another quickstep, which she fluidly fell in step with. "And what do you mean by that?"

"I'm rotten to the core," she whispered. "A villain seeking similar company. Causing plagues, setting fires, robbing banks, you name it!"

"Fine by me." He let her spin him, then pull him into a dip of her own. "After all, I'm quite twisted myself…in more than one sense of the word."

Meanwhile, Snatcher made his case. "Lovely night, is it not?"  
The man he addressed looked him up and down from top hat to coattails. He knew Gotham was full of eccentric people, but this was a new sight even for this city. "I guess?"

"My significant other, my friends, and I are rather new to this particular part of town," Snatcher went on. "We came here seeking a solution to a particular problem."

"What kinda problem?"

"Oh, well, it's difficult to explain," Snatcher said without missing a beat. "All we know is that Gotham is quite famous for the sort of people who could help us."

The man Snatcher addressed lowered his voice; "You three of them Arkham wackos?"

"I can assure you I don't know what you're talking about," Snatcher said quite honestly.

"And neither do I," the man replied. "Like, you need your sink fixed, I have no idea where to send you."

"The opposite, in fact," Snatcher stated, knowing he'd gotten a fish to bite. "We need something…broken."

"Ahhh, now I see." The man nodded. "How broken?"  
"We can do most of the heavy lifting ourselves," Snatcher stated.

"So somebody that'll take orders," the man deduced.

"For the right price."

"And how much are you payin'?"  
"High, should all go as planned."

The man thought it over. "There's lots of places you could go for that," he mused. "Fourth Circle's kind of a weird place to start, but, since you're here…simple question: do you work with or without fire?"

"We LOVE fire!" Roman interrupted, earning himself a glare that commanded "be quiet" from Snatcher.

"Now, I'm just the messenger," the man said. "You don't know me. You never even saw me. Got it? But I've worked with a guy who took care of me in the past, and I think he's what you're lookin' for." He gestured to the back of the club, where a lone man dressed in a black T-shirt and jeans waited alone at a table, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. He had once been blond, with a patch of facial hair, though no one could tell that simply from looking at him now, his bald head only just beginning to grow fuzz back. "He can get you what you need."

"Thank you very much, kind sir," Snatcher said with a nod.

"No thanks necessary," the man replied. "We never met."

"Oh, of course, of course," Snatcher agreed, and they parted ways, Roman and Aghoul following Snatcher to the back of the club.

"That was SLICK!" Roman complimented.

"It's what I do, Torchwick," Snatcher bragged. "Now. Let's see about our new connection."

The lone arsonist had been trolling the club for clients all night, but with no success. It seemed nobody needed anything burned down, or at least no one was willing to pay for it. He'd been invited to dance, of course, but that night, he hadn't felt like humiliating himself in that manner, and just encouraged his companion to go on and have fun without him. Which seemed to have paid off for him; he'd found another partner while the arsonist watched. The arrival of three people wearing brightly colored clothing not cut to the usual fashions of Gotham at the arsonist's table caught his attention; he sat up straight and asked, "Can I help you…?"  
"Perhaps," Snatcher replied. "Perhaps not. Rumor has it you're a master of…fire."

"Depends on who's asking," the arsonist replied. "You need something burned down?"

"That also depends on who is asking," Snatcher countered. "I do hope that doesn't put us at an impasse."

"So let's say, hypothetically, you did," the arsonist decided. "First of all, I don't do something for nothing."

"We may not have much to offer right now," Snatcher told him, "but, should all go as planned, you would potentially reap a sizeable reward."

"Potentially?" The arsonist looked over Snatcher, Roman, and Aghoul. "Hang on. You guys are trying to put together a team, aren't you?"

"We're already a team," Roman broke in. "We just wanted to add a little local flavor to it. Somebody who knows this city and how to bring it down."

"I can't promise you all of Gotham," the arsonist stated, "but, so long as this isn't about something stupid like a bird statue, I might be down for a team effort. On a couple conditions, of course." A hasty move, perhaps, but it was the only offer he'd had all night.

"Name your terms," Snatcher demanded.

"You first," the arsonist countered. "Also, I'd like to know who exactly you think you are that you can just walk up to a guy and rope him into your scheme."

"Our terms," Snatcher reiterated. "I think I shall let Torchwick explain that."

Roman stepped forward, extending a hand. "Name's Roman Torchwick."

"Garfield Lynns," the arsonist replied, reaching out to shake Roman's hand. "Though I go professionally by 'Firefly.' That name might sound a little more familiar to you."

When he saw the blank look on Roman's face, he sighed. "Or, as the local news would have it, 'Bumblebee.'" Roman's expression didn't change. "…'Hornet'? 'Yellowjacket'?"

"We aren't exactly FROM Gotham," Aghoul explained.

"Or anywhere close to it," Roman added. "What we want is a piece of it."

"So…wait," Garfield clarified. "You aren't from here, but you want Gotham territory for yourself. Am I hearing this right? Because that's kind of a suicide mission."

"Which is why we wanted people like you on board," Roman clarified. "People who actually ARE from here. Unless you're tied up elsewhere."

"Believe me, I don't have loyalty to any of the big bosses around here," Garfield affirmed. "Though if you want me on board, I don't come alone. I'm a package deal, and if my other half doesn't agree to the terms, this whole offer is off the table."

"Who's the other half?" Roman asked.

Garfield nodded out to the dancefloor. "You see that couple everyone's staring at?"

Roman didn't even have to turn his head to know that Mim was one of the dancers. He did anyway, to get a good look at the other, and Snatcher and Aghoul did the same, each getting an eyeful of the blond man.

"That guy's with me," Garfield explained. "Not the girl. I've never seen her before in my life."

"She's actually one of ours," Roman clarified.

"Mine, to be exact," Aghoul added.

Roman playfully nudged Aghoul. "Come on. YOU belong to HER, and you know it." He turned back to Garfield. "Anyway. Your guy."

"His name's Peter Merkel," Garfield explained, "though he goes by 'Ragdoll' professionally."

"Firefly, Ragdoll…" Roman repeated. "What is it with this town and everybody going by weird codenames?"

"What, and you DON'T have professional names for the field? Do you even give a crap about if the cops figure out who you are?"

"Not Gotham cops," Roman admitted.

"Anyway, Peter and I are specialists," Garfield went on. "I set things on fire, and he breaks into places that are hard to break into. What about you and yours?"  
"Well, I'm the guns of the operation," Roman introduced. "This is Archibald Snatcher, our public relations guy. Forewarning, keep your hands off. He's mine."

"You mean, like, YOURS yours?" Garfield asked skeptically, eyeing Snatcher up.

"As in we are partners in more than the criminal sense of the word," Snatcher replied, setting a hand on Roman's shoulder.

"Gotcha," Garfield said with a nod.

"Then you have Ayam Aghoul – " Roman attempted to go on.

"Okay, you're joking," Garfield interrupted. "Your name is actually I AM A GHOUL?"

"Yes!" Aghoul asserted. "Is that a problem?"

"I've heard some pretty bad puns, but that takes the cake," Garfield admitted. "So, Mr. Ghoul. What's your specialty?"

Aghoul summoned a skull bomb into his hand, tossing it up and down playfully. "Oh, just heavy weaponry and macabre magic."

Garfield flinched. "Where…did that come from just now?"

"Just go with it," Roman commanded. "You're gonna need to get used to that kind of thing if you wanna understand Mim. That's the one dancing with your partner. Doing stuff YOU can't explain is HER specialty. Now, just so we're clear, the four of us are a pretty tight crew. You mess with one of us, you mess with ALL of us."

"I get it," Garfield said with a nod. "Believe me, I get it."

"Oh, really?" Roman nodded back toward the floor. "What's your deal with Ragsy over there, anyway?"

"Well, it's…complicated," Garfield admitted, thinking back over the events of the past few months.

...

Garfield was a new arrival at Arkham, and Peter, his longtime associate and roommate, had discovered him in his maximum containment cell in the basement, unable to recognize him at first. He wore no clothes to speak of, and his skin was a network of ash-black plates run through with orange cracks that lent him an otherworldly, fiery glow. He sat with his back to the glass wall, knees pulled up to his chest, obviously in a state of dismay.

Of course, the first thing Peter wanted to do was figure out how easy he was to mess with.

"Let me guess," he said. "You're a fiery one, aren't you?"

The stranger was startled; not just by the sudden voice, but by his recognition of it. He scooted away from the wall and turned to face Peter; there was something very familiar about his face, but Peter just couldn't place it, thrown off by the ethereal glow and the strange consistency of the skin. After staring at him in shock for a good thirty seconds, the stranger just said "Go away."

"Oh, but we've only just met," Peter replied, his usual beam in place. "So, what did they get you in for? Don't tell me: public streaking."

"Peter, GO AWAY."

"Oh, so you've heard of me!" Peter remarked. "I'm finally getting a reputation. Took everyone long enough."

"Peter Merkel, for once in your life, will you stop being a JERK?"

It hit Peter like a steamroller. It couldn't be. It absolutely couldn't be. But now that the notion had entered his head…the voice. The face. It absolutely was. "Garfield…?"

"I don't wanna talk to you right now." Garfield turned his back to the wall again.

"This is not only the first time you've ended up in Arkham," Peter pointed out, "but you seem to have undergone some sort of horrific transformation. I think we NEED to talk."

Garfield sighed. "I know. I figured I'd run into you sooner or later. Wasn't expecting it to be here and now…"

"Garfield…what happened?"

"You wanna know what happened?" Garfield turned back to the wall, standing up so he could face Peter directly. "Playing with fire finally bit me in the butt is what happened."

"I'm going to need you to be more specific," Peter replied.

"It's…a long story."

"I've got time."

...

"You…" Peter reiterated, his mouth suddenly gone dry. "You were about to kill me." He didn't even bring up Harley or Blaze. All he wanted to focus on was the betrayal he felt had been done to him.

"I didn't even THINK about you!" Garfield protested. "I just…I forgot about you, okay? And I know. You're about to ask, 'How could you forget about me?' I couldn't focus on ANYTHING but me. I couldn't even focus on Blaze. All I could think about were the things I couldn't control and the things I COULD and the way I just wanted it GONE and I wanted them to remember me, and I didn't even stop to think about if I'd live or die in the whole mess, and I don't think I cared, and I don't know if I even care right NOW, and I still keep thinking I'd be better off if I'd leveled everything when I had the chance, even though I KNOW that's wrong, and now that I'm looking at you, I know I should have thought about you, and I should have stopped, and I should have done something else, ANYTHING else, but I can't figure ANYTHING out because IT'S STILL TOO LOUD IN MY HEAD!" He clutched at his temples, collapsing into a sitting position. "They're…they're keeping my body stable with gases, and I think they're working on stuff for my mind, too, which is why things are…starting to get clearer. I still have these…visions…of blowing up everything, and I LIKE them. But they're…they're wrong, Peter. I don't know if I knew how wrong until I…" He looked sheepishly back up at Peter. "I know you want to leave. Please…please don't leave. Hear me out."

"I'm listening," Peter said solemnly. "It's…obvious you aren't in your right mind. That…explains a lot."

"I…" Garfield nearly choked on the next words. He wasn't sure why he had to confess the next part to Peter, but it seemed crucial. "I called you and Harley…Arkham whack-jobs. That's what I told the Bat when he showed up to stop me. That I wasn't like his Arkham whack-jobs. I…I meant it then. I don't mean it now. Please, you have to listen to me. Blaze won't. She won't take messages from me anymore. I know why. She told me I was about to kill her, and I told HER our relationship was too hot to handle. I tried to get a message to her from here. She came to visit me once. She told me…the spark between us was gone."

...

Peter, an inmate of Arkham himself, came to visit Garfield often, bringing a third party with him: Harleen "Harley Quinn" Quinzel, a friend of both.

"Look. About the whole…" Garfield admitted, "you know. Trying to kill you both by blowing up Gotham thing. I…it…it won't happen again."

"We get it," Harley reassured him. "Peter explained everything. You just went a little crazy. But that's okay, because now the three of us are a matchin' set!"

"I'm still not convinced there's actually anything wrong with Peter," Garfield commented. "But okay. I'll go with it."

"If we didn't forgive each other for acts of unspeakable evil," Peter pointed out, "we wouldn't have any friends at all."

"True," Garfield said with a shake of the head. "Turns out there are two things I like about Gotham after all." He then realized what he'd said. "Okay, you're going to forget I said that."

"I'd rather lord it over you forever that you're secretly a sap," Peter decided.

"Hey. I'm mentally vulnerable right now."

"When has that stopped me before?"

Harley couldn't help but grin watching her friends banter.

The sound of footsteps alerted Harley and Peter to an approaching patrol, and they both snapped to their feet, grabbing ahold of the television stand and wheeling it out of the hall as hastily as they could. As they bolted, Peter fired off a quick "Toodles!" at Garfield.

...

In a one-on-one conversation with Harley, Garfield decided to just come out with it and see how bad the damage was. "What does it mean that Blaze couldn't talk me into saving her, but the minute I REALLY knew I screwed up was when I told Peter about it and he stopped smiling?"

Harley's apple hit the floor.

"Yeah, I know," Garfield sighed. "You probably didn't see THAT one coming. But I've had a lot of time to think down here, and when it's NOT about death and destruction, it's about…" He shook his head. "Okay, so this has to be literally the worst time to be thinking about this, right? You'd think this would turn me off the whole romance thing even MORE."

"There's somethin' I shoulda told you a long time ago, way back when you mentioned not being into relationships in the first place," Harley stated, knowing she was treading unsteady ground but still unable to hold back her opinion. "If you're really not into it, that's fine. But if it's just 'cause a bad experience made you once bitten and twice shy, the only cure is to get right back on the horse and find somebody better. Sorry for mixin' metaphors."

"I have these dreams, too," Garfield admitted. "Dreams about setting Blaze on fire. And they didn't bother me. Guess I'm desensitized. But one of them was about setting PETER on fire, and it was a nightmare. So I started…really thinking about him. I've always felt way too comfortable being able to tell him everything. Which, when you think about the fact that it's Peter, shouldn't make any sense. When we were caught by Rumor…I was HOPING he would find me. And that's the other thing. Rumor. Tony Zucco. When those guys messed with him, I got…" Scared. "Really, REALLY mad."

"How much do you look forward to seein' him?"  
"A lot, Harley. I know he's right here in Arkham and he didn't see me too long ago, but I miss him." He shrugged. "And maybe I noticed some of this stuff before, but I figure everyone's a little in love with their best friend, right?"

"Were you ever a little in love with me?" Harley asked with a wink.

"No," Garfield realized.

"Describe him to me," Harley demanded. "Right now."

"Well, he's a jerk."

"I know. Describe him MORE."

"He's always got that stupid idiot smile on," Garfield said off the top of his head. "He's confident. As in, I'm pretty confident, but sometimes I wish I was more like him. He's weird. You can't forget the guy. He's fun to be around if you're on his good side. Which I am. And he's…" Garfield muttered the next word so quietly, Harley couldn't hear it.

"Come on," Harley encouraged. "Say it out loud. I won't say a word."

"Beautiful, okay?" Garfield blurted. "He's beautiful. Have you SEEN him move? Just…when I'm around him, things are actually great. And I don't ever want him to stop smiling. Especially not because of me. Gahhh, how long have I actually been thinking about this?"

"Hmm…" Harley wondered out loud. "Couldn't have been all that long, since Blaze got to ya first."

"I…don't actually know. Blaze was just like…wow. All at once. But the more I think about Peter, the more I think the stuff I like about him has ALWAYS been there. He's just…always been my partner in crime."

"And he makes ya happy?"  
"Yeah."

"Does he make your heart beat faster?"

"Actually, now, yes."

Harley gasped. "You LOVE him!"

...

Faced with Peter again, Garfield exhaled deeply. "What I was saying is that I have to talk about how awesome you are behind your back, because if I said it to your face, you'd laugh at me."

"Now, why would I ever laugh at such a flattering compliment?" Peter asked.

"Because…it's more than just a compliment."

"Ohhhhh?"  
"I…" Garfield turned his gaze away, looking at the wall. "I might be in love with you."

There was silence in reply. When Garfield actually chanced looking back at Peter, he flinched. Peter's smile was the widest and happiest-looking it had ever been. And that, to Garfield, signaled trouble. "Don't," Garfield warned. "Do NOT hold this over me."

"I wasn't planning on it," Peter stated. "But, really? This soon after Blaze? I would have thought you would have been more disillusioned with the concept of love than ever."

"I had time to think about my priorities," Garfield confessed. "And somebody smart told me to get back on the horse after love bit me, or something. Anyway, there you go. Now you know. I don't know if it's because you actually got me to dance, or because you hugged me and told me there was no one like me when Rumor was gonna kill us, or because you tied off my stab wound with your shirt, or because talking to you keeps me from going crazy in here. But it's probably mostly because of that stupid, STUPID smile."

"I'll tell you what," Peter decided. "Since you told me that…I'll let you know who my secret crush is."

"You still HAVE that?" Garfield was surprised. "You didn't bring it up for, like, a year."

"Oh, I most definitely still have it," Peter confirmed. "Same person all this time, too. Care to hazard a guess?"  
"I don't even know who's left," Garfield sighed. "Killer Croc."

"No."

"Mr. Freeze?"

"Goodness, no."

"GOOD. …Joker?"  
"I do hope you weren't serious about that one."

"I give up," Garfield said with a small shrug. "Who is it?"

"You really haven't guessed, Garfield? After all this time? I thought it was rather obvious at this point," Peter admitted.

"Obvious?" Garfield repeated. "Who would be OBVIOUS? Unless it's somehow ME, I don't see what…"

Peter was slowly nodding. "Now you're getting it."

"…Me?" Garfield was taken aback. "It…it's me."

"That it is," Peter confirmed. "You're very attractive, after all."

"How…long has it been me?"  
Peter pretended to think it over. "I'd say about…Team Penguin, day one."

...

By some miracle, the staff of Arkham had found a way to do it. It had taken them months, but with a grant from Wayne Industries (which Garfield resented to no end), they'd managed to come up with a cure for Garfield's condition.

"How do you feel?" one of the orderlies asked as Garfield watched the back of his hand in awe; his crusty, glowing skin gelled back into flexible flesh before his eyes.

Garfield flexed his hand, turning it over, bending each finger. He then surveyed his whole body…and formed his opinion: "I feel like I need pants."

...

They led him to the yard, let him enter the crowd of orange uniforms. It took Garfield a moment to locate the person he was looking for, but then he spotted him: seated at a table with Langstrom, Wesker, and Strange, trying to figure how best to cheat them all at Euchre.

Garfield thought of a hundred different greetings, but all of them turned up too corny in his mind. He found he was actually nervous to get close; now that he had a human physiology, his palms were greased with sweat, and his heart pounded in his ears. It shouldn't be this hard, he told himself. You're literally roommates. You've been closer than this.

He forced himself to stride over to the card table, finally settling on simply approaching Peter from behind and tapping him on one shoulder. As Peter turned to look at who'd gotten his attention, Garfield simply said, "Hey – "

Peter practically tackled him, leaping up to pull him into a bone-crushing hug, wrapping one leg up around Garfield's waist in a way that was more playful than sensual, crashing his lips against Garfield's. It was absolute bliss; Garfield, caught off guard, needed only a moment to gather his senses enough to wrap his own arms around Peter's waist and draw him in ever closer. It took them both a moment to realize that literally everyone in the yard was staring at them both.

...

Snapped back to the present time and place, where he was being stared down by an expectant Roman Torchwick, Garfield concluded, "But, long story short, he's kind of my boyfriend."

"We seem to be on a triple date, then," Aghoul pointed out.

"We've done the whole team thing before," Garfield went on. "Actually, that's how we met. But that turned out to be a bust. Now, you guys…you're looking to actually dominate Gotham."

"At least part of it, but ideally all of it," Roman clarified.

"Well, if nothing else, this should be entertaining," Garfield decided. "Let's just make sure everyone's on board before we seal the deal."

Roman turned to wave at Mim; Snatcher and Aghoul followed suit. Mim glimpsed her associates trying to get her attention and knew it was time to abandon the floor. "Well, it's been fun," she told Peter, "but I've gotta split!" She strode off the floor, all eyes on her as she left.

"It just so happens you're headed toward my table," Peter told her as he followed, taking note that the people who'd flagged her down were surrounding Garfield.

The second Mim's foot hit the carpet, her body reverted to its shorter, thicker physique, her face rounding out, her hair shortening. "Ooooh, neat trick!" Peter complimented. "But can you do this?"

Mim turned to watch him spin so his back was to her, lifting one leg behind his back and seemingly dislocating it in order to wrap it around his waist. His head spun a 180 so he could look her in the eye over his back; he then topped it off with a wink.

"Hmmm…let me see…" Mim magically sprouted a second pair of legs, sporting a pair of lacy pink leggings, from behind her shoulders, crossing their ankles in front of her chest. She then placed her hands on either side of her head, giving it a spin that sent it on several 360s around her neck before slowly running out of momentum and coming to a halt.

Peter laughed high-pitchedly and joyously as he disentangled back into a front-facing standing position. "I don't know how you're doing that, but you're good!"

Mim dismissed the phantom legs, and she and Peter marched side-by-side toward Garfield's table.

"I see you've met Mim," Roman stated, addressing Peter.

"And I see you've met Peter," Garfield told Mim.

"Well?" Mim asked. "Do we have an alliance?"

"Alliance?" Peter looked from Roman to Snatcher to Aghoul to Garfield. "What alliance?"  
"These guys want a piece of Gotham," Garfield explained. "Think Team Penguin, but…this can either go a whole lot better or a whole lot worse. There is no in-between. That's Roman Torchwick, Archie Snatcher – "

"You can't call me that," Snatcher growled. "Only Torchwick can call me that."

" – and, I kid you not, this guy is named Ayam Aghoul," Garfield finished. "Oh, and that's apparently Mim. Just…Mim?"

"Not JUST Mim," Mim clarified. "The magnificent, marvelous Mad Madam Mim!"

"So just Mim, then," Garfield concluded.

"Mim," Roman introduced, "this is Garfield Lynns, and apparently, he's a bit of a pyro. Which, as you probably guessed, gets him brownie points with me right off the bat. Your dance partner for the night has been his boyfriend, Peter Merkel."

"Hellooooooooo," Peter greeted, putting up one hand to wave, flexing each of his long fingers. "Signing an alliance, are we?"

Garfield rose from his seat. "Before we make the call," he told Roman, Snatcher, Aghoul, and Mim, "Peter and I need a conference."

"So do we," Roman replied with a nod.

As Garfield and Peter took several paces away to have an inaudible discussion, Roman remained in place to consort with his three associates. "Well, I like them so far," he stated. "They're better than nothing. Besides, something about this Garfield guy is just hard to hate. Mim, you've just spent several songs' worth of hobnobbing with Peter. What's he like?"  
"Fits right in with us, if you ask me," Mim reported.

"If they're willing to work with us, it's at the very least better than nothing," Snatcher threw in.

"All in favor of inviting them into our little group, at least for the time being?" Aghoul asked.

"Aye," Roman, Snatcher, and Mim said as one.

"Though that does bring up an excellent point," Snatcher realized. "What happens when we've accomplished what we want here and must return home?"

"I don't think they'll be too heartbroken if we drop 'em," Roman said with a shrug.

"We haven't DROPPED a single ally we've made since the WHAM ARMY began," Aghoul pointed out.

"We'll burn that bridge when we come to it," Roman decided.

"It's 'cross,'" Snatcher corrected.

Roman rolled his eyes. "With me, Archie, it's always about burning."

A few paces away, Garfield softly informed Peter that "I have no idea what these guys' deal is, but they're WEIRD."

"Perfect for us, then," Peter resolved.

Garfield voiced doubt; "I dunno. It's not suspicious that these guys came from literally nowhere? Also, one of them made a skull appear out of thin air. THIN AIR."

"That's nothing," Peter informed him. "You saw Mim dancing with me, did you not?"

"Yeah…"

"Does that look like the same woman to you?"

Garfield peeked back over at the conference of the other four. "…No. Different Mim? Are there actually five of them? They have to be RELATED, though. I mean, that purple hair – "

"I can very much assure you that's the same woman, Garfield."

Garfield shot Peter a quizzical look. "So she just…changed bodies."

"Before my eyes."

"And this doesn't faze you."

"I thought it was rather nifty, to be honest."

"Okay, something is OFF about these guys," Garfield hissed.

"I pull off feats of incredible physical impossibility all the time and you don't have a problem with it," Peter pointed out.

"Science can actually EXPLAIN you," Garfield reminded him.

Peter shrugged. "Mostly. Anyhow, have you gotten any other offers?"

"No. You?"

"Not a single one."

"They might be our best option right now," Garfield sighed. "This really can't go much worse than Penguin, can it?"  
"Oh, come now, Garfield. Team Penguin was fun, and you know it."

"Yeah," Garfield agreed, smiling slightly. "It was. Okay, if you're in, I'm in."

"That does leave the question of Harley," Peter reminded Garfield.

"We'll burn that bridge when we come to it," Garfield insisted.

The two groups reunited over the same table. "We're in," Garfield told Roman. "Though we would like to propose a condition."

"And that condition is…?" Roman asked.

"Our team name is the 'Gotham Gangstas.'"

"No," Roman, Snatcher, Mim, and Aghoul grunted as one.

"How about 'Villains United,' then?" Peter volunteered.

This earned him a similar four-person "No."

"Okay, if this is 'Team Torchwick,' we bail," Garfield groaned.

"We're actually an offshoot of a larger organization that usually goes by 'WHAM ARMY,'" Roman explained.

"WHAM ARMY?" Garfield repeated. "That has to be the dumbest name I've ever heard."

"It's an acronym," Roman insisted sternly. "It stands for our four initials, our three friends who ran off to go be crime lords of some other place without telling us, and our other friend who's probably still refereeing motorcycle duels right about now."

"Are we going to argue naming semantics," Snatcher asked, "or are we going to plot the first step toward city conquest?"  
"I like the sounds of city conquest," Peter told him, his smile becoming just the slightest bit more smug.

"Then it's settled," Garfield said, reaching out across the table with his right arm once more. "We're with the WHAM ARMY."

Roman took his hand in a firm shake of agreement. "Welcome aboard, fellow pyro."

...

Nora Valkyrie, Yuffie Kisaragi, Vida Rocca, and Sadira stood at the city gates to Agrabah, barely able to catch a glimpse of the palace in the distance.

"Kinda too bad Ruby was too tired to come with us," Yuffie commented.

"Seriously?" Nora retorted. "Her Semblance is SPEED. She'd ruin the whole thing!"

"I keep telling you there's way more to it than speed," Sadira insisted.

"So the only rule is the first one back to the palace wins?" Vida clarified. "We can get there any way we want?"

"Yup," Sadira confirmed with a nod. "Ready?"

"Count us down," Nora commanded.

The four young women stood braced to race. "Three," Sadira counted, "two, one…GO!"

They surged forth, all diverging almost immediately. Nora simply barreled straight down the main thoroughfare. Sadira made for the back alleys, mapping out her route in her mind. Vida, suspecting she had figured out a way to beat the system, spotted a ladder resting against the side of a tall building and scaled it until she was atop the roof. The path from there was clear, even though the gaps between the roofs were long.

Movement caught Vida's eye through her peripheral vision. She turned her head to see that Yuffie had the same idea as her on the other side of the street and was using abandoned wooden poles to vault over the gaps. "Oh, no you don't," Vida muttered before taking a running leap. As soon as she launched into the air, it was apparent she wasn't going to make it all the way to the lip of the next rooftop…until she summoned up a tiny gust of wind that bolstered her beneath her feet, lifting her ever so slightly until she was on the correct trajectory to land on the adjacent building. She continued using this strategy to leap from roof to roof, trying to keep Yuffie in her sights and judge whether the manipulation of wind was faster than the use of the vaults.

As the race surged on, Kairi, Madison, and Genie were engaging in a much less strenuous activity: visiting the shops on the thoroughfare. "These are pretty," Madison noticed, holding up a string of blue beads.

"And they go so well with that ensemble, as well!" Genie said dramatically.

Kairi giggled; "You two are kinda blue buddies. Did you realize that?"

"Huh!" Madison looked to Genie, who returned the gaze. "Blue buddies. I like that!"

"C'mere, blue buddy!" Genie threw an arm around Madison and hugged her close.

Madison couldn't help but think of Jenji when Genie was around. She wondered how he was faring in the repairs of Root Core. Most likely, he was trying to get out of doing the heavy lifting, but had been talked into doing his share by Daggeron.

"Y'know what I think?" Genie said conspiratorially to Madison.

"What?" Madison replied.

"I think Kairi shouldn't be left out of the club." He shifted into the shape of a plump fairy wearing a tall, conical hat and a flouncy skirt, brandishing a glimmering wand. "Make it blue!" he insisted, flicking the wand at Kairi.

Kairi's pink clothing was immediately transformed into a bright cyan. "Blue buddies!" she cheered with a smile.

"'SCUSE ME!" Nora bellowed as she bolted down the street, having to make a turn around a large cart. "PARDON ME!" She leapt over a short wagon. "COMIN' THROUGH! MOVE IT OR LOSE IT!" She slowed her evasion of marketplace obstacles long enough to skid to a halt, shake her head at Madison's beads, and click her tongue. "That necklace? With THAT outfit? Try again!" She then broke back into her run.

Sadira was the first to make it into the palace courtyard, breaking her run before she could collide with any of the other occupants. Xander and Aladdin in particular were in the midst of a sparring match, Xander wielding a wooden axe against Aladdin's wooden sword. Due to the desert heat, Xander had abandoned his shirt in order to continue with the strenuous activity…though in such proximity to Aladdin, there had been an ulterior motive to Xander removing his shirt, despite Aladdin being far too monogamous to notice.

The dull wooden blades clashed, and Xander's makeshift axe was forced near his face as Aladdin bore down with his sword. "Nice," Xander complimented. "But you're gonna have to be faster than that to deal with a mystic ranger." He spun quickly, swiping at Aladdin three times in quick succession, aiming finally for the wrist in a move he was sure would disarm the prince. Aladdin instead parried the blow perfectly, now in a reversal of the hold he'd had Xander in.

"You're not so bad yourself," Aladdin complimented, and Xander did hope Aladdin couldn't detect the rising of his body temperature. "Still, this street rat's got a few more tricks up his sleeve."

"You're not even wearing sleeves," Xander pointed out. "Well, then again, neither am I, but…let's just keep going."

Jasmine and Cadance watched from the edge of the fountain as Aladdin and Xander continued to spar; Nora, Vida, and Yuffie all arrived in the background at around the same time. "You're very lucky, you know," Cadance told Jasmine. "Aladdin is wonderful."

Jasmine nodded. "Do you have anyone like that?"

"Actually, like you, I was only recently married," Cadance informed her fellow princess. "Shining Armor is very different from Aladdin, of course, but he's perfect to me."

"Then I think you're very lucky as well," Jasmine replied.

"I think overall, finding love of all kinds is one of the luckiest things that can happen to you," Cadance mused.

Around this time, Ruby, Stork, and Papyrus all spilled into the courtyard, rubbing at their eyelids (or, in Papyrus' case, sockets). "Ehhhh…did we miss anything?" Ruby asked groggily.

"Not much," Sadira bragged. "Just me showing your friends why you can't beat an Agrabanian street rat at navigating Agrabah."

"I DEMAND A REMATCH!" Nora insisted.

"Wait, was it a race?" Ruby asked. "Can I join in the next round?"  
"YOUR SEMBLANCE IS SPEED!" Nora cried exasperatedly.

Luna watched all from an upper balcony, smiling contentedly. She and her companions seemed to have found yet another place they could be at peace and bond with kindred spirits. Yet as she looked upward and into the distant horizon, she could not shake the feeling that troubling times were coming. Already she knew her fears were founded, thanks to the reports of Maleficent and Mozenrath. How threatening they would become to the many worlds they had encountered was yet to be seen.

She didn't know it, but her gaze was pointed definitively in the direction of the Black Sands.

...

"We are growing close to our destination," Xayide announced after a peer out the palanquin's door to confirm her suspicion. "It would be wise to advise the Amarganthians to await us at the border while we negotiate."

"At the border of WHAT, exactly?" Mozenrath asked sternly.

"The border of one of the largest and most infamous countries in all of Fantastica," Xayide explained. "The Land of Ghosts. We make for its capital, Spook City. Tell me, have you heard many tales of horror?"

"I'm guessing this is where horror stories come from," Mozenrath inferred.

"That is true," Xayide said with a single nod. "The creatures of terror reside here. This is the homeland to vampires, to night-hobs, to kobolds. As I said, Huntsman – "

The Huntsman's fists had clenched upon Xayide's description of the inhabitants of the Land of Ghosts, and she'd noticed.

"…I knew you would not approve," she teased. "I must ask you not to harm any of the residents. They are to make up much of our forces. With the folk of the Land of Ghosts to back us, we present a formidable opposition to loyalists of the Empress. And what better army to accompany a party of villains than a legion of monsters?"

"A legion of humans would be preferable," the Huntsman growled.

"There is one more warning you should heed," Xayide stated. "There are many places where people are forced to face their worst fears. This is not such a place in particular. However, if you fear a particular creature, it will live here. Such is the way the Land of Ghosts works in relation to Fantastica and what lies beyond."

"It is very good, then, that we fear no creature," the Huntsman replied.

"Well, that's not entirely – " Yzma began to argue.

"WE FEAR NO CREATURE," the Huntsman insisted. "Is that not right, Mozenrath?"

Mozenrath was about to agree, but his imagination was suddenly filled with a familiar snarl, a howl of hunger. He began to hope there were exceptions to Xayide's statement, for there was a particular creature he never wanted to cross paths with again.

"Mozenrath?" Yzma said, snapping her fingers in front of the sorcerer's face to get his attention.

"Right," Mozenrath confirmed. "No creature."

They disembarked briefly from the palanquin for Xayide to deliver an address to the Amarganthian contingent, once again amplifying her voice by magic: "The savior and his closest companions, myself included, are to forge ahead into the Land of Ghosts. This is a journey that will terrify both the faint of heart and the strong of heart, so for your own protection and peace of mind, we ask that you wait here. We shall return with those of the Land of Ghosts who wish to follow us in tow. Though they may be fearsome, they will be allies. Together, we will press onward to our bright future. Await us patiently, and we shall return."

Once the quartet had boarded the palanquin again, Mozenrath argued, "You know, I'm supposed to be their so-called savior here. I should probably do at least SOME of the talking."

"Do you doubt my judgment?" Xayide asked.

"I don't doubt your judgment," Mozenrath rebutted. "I just don't want THEM to doubt ME."

"If you so badly wish to be the mouthpiece of this movement," Xayide told him, "you may address the citizens of Spook City."

"Good," Mozenrath told her. "I should hope I'm the mouthpiece. It's my movement."

The armor bearing the palanquin trudged into a sheet of thick fog that almost obscured everything from view entirely. An eerie silence seemed to be sewn into the fog's fabric, interrupted only by an unidentifiable noise every now and again that seemed indescribably ominous.

"This better not be some kind of trick," Mozenrath growled to Xayide.

"What makes you suspect a trick?" she asked. "Are you frightened – "

"NO!"

No one had any words to say thereafter, which made the silence all that much more unsettling.

Something became visible through the fog: the stone and metal gates of a city, twistedly wrought. The landscape beyond was populated by tall, crooked towers and buildings of labyrinthine architecture; the palanquin was carried through the gates and down a twisting pathway of streets that conformed to no logical pattern. Xayide remembered well hearing tell that the Land of Ghosts was once lost completely to that incomprehensible menace known as the Nothing, its inhabitants all throwing themselves to the state of unexistence in hopes of being reborn beyond Fantastica. When Bastian had come back to save Fantastica, his tales brought the Land of Ghosts back to life, larger and more frightening than ever before. She imagined Spook City had been completely deserted in the final hours before Bastian's arrival, populated only by the sound of wind blowing eerily through apertures in the stone of the castles, making a noise that could almost have been mistaken for a wailing, despairing voice. That on its own would have been frightening. Now, Spook City was alive, and that was even more terrifying, for its inhabitants preferred not to traverse the streets as normal but to stick to the shadows, making their presence known by staring with glowing eyes from the end of a dark alley or hunching atop a tall roof to observe the streets below. Foreigners could be easily identified by their tendency to walk the main roads and remain visible. Watching out the palanquin door, Mozenrath, the Huntsman, and Yzma caught only glimpses of tentacles and claws disappearing around corners. Shuffling and clacking sounds from all over gave away the presence of not just a few, but a multitude of watchers.

"Are they going to keep cowering as long as we're here?" Mozenrath grumbled, knowing full well what the citizens were doing was not cowering.

"They will come when they see that you are to make an address," Xayide reassured him.

They chose to set up in one of the larger squares in town, and as soon as the palanquin was set down, the citizens began to step out of periphery and into view. They sported batlike wings or long fangs or tough scales. Some were hulking, with needle-sharp claws. Others were slender, with a multitude of limbs. All of them looked as though they had stepped directly out of a tale of terror meant for midnight.

Xayide worked a bit of magic upon the ground to turn the center of the square into a raised platform from which she, Mozenrath, the Huntsman, and Yzma could look upon all of the denizens of Spook City, who were regarding the brightly colored quartet with confusion.

"If you wouldn't mind giving me a little vocal boost," Mozenrath whispered to Xayide.

"Of course," the witch responded, waving her hand at Mozenrath's throat, in which he felt a twitch.

He turned to face his new audience. "People of the Land of Ghosts," he began, his voice rebounding off every tower and parapet. "I've come with a proposal for you. It's come to my attention that both your Empress and your savior have disappeared."

"What savior was Bastian Balthazar Bux to us?" a vampire hissed. "He barely acknowledged us!"

"Your land is only whole because of Bastian's arrival in Fantastica," Xayide interrupted. "He brought you all back from the Nothing with his very presence!"

"But now he's gone," Mozenrath stated, taking back control of the speech, "and without him or the Empress, you have – "

That familiar snarl, and it wasn't just in his mind this time. Mozenrath froze. His eyes picked it out as it crawled through the crowd until it was sitting at the very front, snuffling at the ground before turning to look up at Mozenrath hungrily with its single eye. A thirdac.

"…Nothing," Mozenrath concluded, tearing his eyes away from the thirdac.

The Huntsman noticed it. More accurately, he noticed Mozenrath's pause, and sought out the source of the disturbance. Remembering Mozenrath's allusion to how he'd met Aladdin, he withdrew his huntstaff.

Yzma placed a hand on the staff. "WHAT are you doing?" she hissed.

"Being prepared," the Huntsman whispered back.

"Which is why I intend to fill that void," Mozenrath continued. "I'm going to be the next Emperor of Fantastica, and I want the rest of you to stand with me."

"Why should we?" a ghoul called out.

There were more than one. Mozenrath was having a harder and harder time ignoring them. The thirdacs were now pushing to the front of the crowd in droves – well, perhaps not droves, but there were at least five – licking their chops at the sight of such powerful magic as Mozenrath and Xayide in the same place. Xayide, for her part, remained unfazed. Perhaps she didn't realize exactly what sort of creatures thirdacs were, how swiftly they could devour her in order to consume her magic. Or perhaps she was simply cool under pressure.

"WHY SHOULD WE FOLLOW YOU?" a pale, long-armed creature with no eyes and several rows of sharp teeth shrieked.

"Because," Mozenrath said, snapping out of his reverie, "I can give you all what you want."

"We want nothing!" another ghoul called out. "We are well off as we are!"

The Huntsman looked over the crowd, and as he observed the very back of the throng, his heart seized up momentarily. A large, hulking creature loomed over them all. Its shape was ill-defined, hidden by shadows, but the Huntsman would have known it anywhere. It was the same sort of creature that the red dragon had forced him to tussle with in youth, the one that had scarred his throat. It was not entirely true, he realized, that he feared no creature. He tightened his grip on his weapon.

"You CAN'T be happy with just this," Mozenrath asserted. "I can bring you power! I can bring you glory! I can bring you – "

One of the thirdacs decided it was too hungry to listen to Mozenrath's speech any longer. It lunged.

Mozenrath instinctively let a bolt of blue energy loose at the thirdac, which opened its mouth wide and swallowed the magic whole without missing a beat. Mozenrath was overtaken by very apparent horror as the semi-reptilian creature tackled him to the ground.

The Huntsman rushed to action, swiftly stabbing the huntstaff down through the thirdac's protective carapace and piercing its vitals, halting the blade before it could cut through to Mozenrath's delicate body beneath. He then hefted the thirdac up and flung it aside.

"Look at our would-be emperor, so easily crushed by a thirdac!" a vampire in the crowd laughed as he stroked the back of a second thirdac. "Go on," he encouraged the beast, "gobble him right up!"

"YOU!" Mozenrath growled, having heard every word. A thirdac might have been able to absorb his magical attacks, but a vampire would have no such luck. Mozenrath leapt off the platform to rush the vampire at the same time the second thirdac rushed. Yzma tackled the thirdac, stomping the heel of her shoe into its lone eye in order to leave Mozenrath an opening to run down the vampire. The unlucky vampire attempted, too late, to turn and flit to the shadows; he was set aflame in blue and found himself unable to douse the fires before he was consumed.

That was the gateway to pandemonium.

Before long, the Huntsman was cutting down creature after creature, with Yzma flinging darts every which way. The crowd surged forth to try and one-up the newcomers, but whoever the Huntsman couldn't dispose of, Mozenrath found a way to destroy. Xayide watched the chaos from the platform for a while, lamenting how awfully the plan had gone, before realizing that she had cast her lot and she needed to defend those she had sworn to be champion of. Her magic forged spears and swords from nowhere to impale the ghouls, iron spikes springing from the ground to take out the larger creatures. Her palanquin-bearing armor sprang into action as well, body-slamming leaping werewolves. And the Huntsman, as long as he was in the midst of slaying, figured he may as well put his childhood fears to rest once and for all; he ran full tilt for the monster reminiscent of the one that had scarred him.

Logically, Mozenrath knew that he and his companions couldn't destroy the entire population of Spook City in one fight. However, he was now determined to see the attempt through.

Over the sounds of the scuffle, a sudden piercing voice: "STOP THIS AT ONCE!"

Somehow, all who heard it knew they had better listen. Mozenrath froze before his charged-up gauntlet could make contact with the face of a werewolf. Yzma stopped before she could drive a dart down into the back of a chupacabra. Xayide and her suits of armor all held their positions, not daring to move an inch. Even the Huntsman was stopped from plunging the huntstaff into the one weak spot of his target monster, and as the four newcomers ground to a halt, so did every yet surviving citizen of Spook City.

The crowd parted to make way for an elegant young woman clothed in a black gown; she strode coolly toward the center of the square. Mozenrath, the Huntsman, Xayide, and Yzma all abandoned their positions to line up in front of her, curious as to what tidings she brought and if they needed to band together to bring her down next.

"You claim to be the next savior?" the woman scoffed, stopping just before Mozenrath. "That is laughable. I know what you've come for."

"You know NOTHING about me," Mozenrath growled, clenching his right fist, waiting to bring it into action.

"I know what truly rules your heart is the pursuit of power," the woman stated, and she smirked. "Which I find much more admirable than a savior. Do you know who I am?"  
"An obstacle that needs to be removed?" Mozenrath guessed sarcastically.

"The Dark Princess Gaya," the woman replied. "Ruler of the Land of Ghosts. And while I answered to the Childlike Empress, for she is Fantastica itself, I believed I would answer to no other. I do not take stock in promises for betterment. I rule a land built on fear; why should hope matter to me? But you have just attempted to kill the people I rule over. And, in no small part, you have been succeeding. Do you know what that makes you?"

"Two sorcerers, a dragon slayer, and a fashionista extraordinaire," Yzma answered, taking the question literally.

"Your…enemy?" Mozenrath guessed.

"A force to be feared," Gaya clarified. "Perhaps a little too fearful for your own good, but still something to be feared. That, I may follow. Your enterprise interests me…had you said your name?"

"Mozenrath," Mozenrath said with renewed pride. "Lord Mozenrath."

"We shall see about your title when you arrive at the Ivory Tower, Mozenrath," Gaya stated.

"You aren't going to, ah, tell the rest of our traveling companions about this little bloodbath, are you?" Yzma asked nervously.

"Not a word," Gaya vowed. "If they do not know the poison that flows through their waters, I am not about to spoil the surprise before all have drunk. What fun would there be for me then?"

"Well, welcome aboard!" Yzma stated.

Gaya stared Xayide down. "The witch of the orchids," she stated calmly. "I should have known you would not be content to remain in your tower."

"The Dark Princess," Xayide retorted. "Did you not fling yourself into the Nothing once in a vain attempt to grasp something beyond your meager existence?"  
"I had heard you perished," Gaya replied. "I cannot help but wonder if something similar happened to you."

"Why would I end my own life?" Xayide snapped.

"Because your existence was far more meager than mine," Gaya supposed. "But that is all past. I wish to see what fear you can strike into hearts from the Ivory Tower. I have never attempted such a thing myself, as I thought it a fool's errand with the Empress in place, but in her absence, who knows what may come to pass?" She dropped to one knee. "You have my fealty, and the fealty of all those who dwell in the Land of Ghosts." She then raised her head to look at Mozenrath once more. "Though I suggest for your own sake you stop thinning the numbers of those you wish to add to your army."

"I'll keep that in mind," Mozenrath replied.

When the palanquin was borne back to the Amarganthians, it came along with a legion of denizens of the Land of Ghosts.

...

It was decided that Sora and Riku, with their host of volunteer Boxtroll players, needed a secluded yet roomy place in order to tell their story, lest their talk of things that seemingly could not possibly be true become cause for concern among the more narrow-minded citizens of the town. Thus they ended up making their stage down by the river. The story took some time to tell: all the way until sundown.

"And that's the end," Sora concluded.

"That was a really great story," Eggs told him.

"Hmm…I don't know," Winnie sighed. "Seems a little convoluted to me. And I didn't understand a single word of the bit about time travel."

"It's actually probably simpler than you think," Riku argued.

"Please, don't try and explain it to me anymore," Winnie begged him. "You'll make my head hurt."

A Boxtroll by the moniker of "Socks" voiced a concern.

"What Socks is saying," Eggs translated, "is that he wants to know if this all means…the same thing could happen to Snatcher that happened to Maleficent and…and…"

"Xenahort," Winnie volunteered.

"Xehanort," Riku corrected.

"Xenahort?" Sora repeated. "There's no such villain!"

"That he could just come back," Eggs went on.

"I'm sorry, but that is what it means," Riku confirmed. "Especially if he had ties to the Darkness. And from the sounds of it, he was the Darkness' perfect candidate."

"So what do we do now?" Winnie asked. "Is he going to come back HERE? Is he going to try and ruin us again, all for my father's White Hat?"

"We don't know what he's going to do just yet," Sora replied. "That's what our friends are trying to figure out. But we do know that you don't have to worry about a thing!"

"This is our fight," Riku asserted. "We'll make sure he doesn't hurt you again. Or anyone else."

"Now that we know more about him," Sora realized, "a lot more stuff makes sense. Like why everybody suddenly started hating monsters in Knightdock!"

"I do wish we could help," Eggs said forlornly.

Winnie and every Boxtroll present shared glances; Eggs was the only one among them who had the sentiment.

"We'll let you know if you can," Sora promised. "But right now, the most you should have to worry about is when you're going to put on the next play!"

Riku nodded, his mind suddenly abuzz with thoughts about young Eggs and his enthusiasm. How old had Riku been when he first decided he wanted to travel to other worlds? Much younger. But Eggs and Winnie seemed to him to be but children. Children who had accomplished a lot, but still not ready to take on the threats that lay in the spaces between the worlds. When had he, Sora, and Kairi become ready? Were they truly ready, even now? Or should they have been living carefree lives on the Destiny Islands, building rafts to sail away on much more harmless adventures?

A bell sounded from high on the hill. "That's the sound of suppertime," Winnie announced. "Father will be none too pleased with me if I'm late. Thanks for the story. I'll see you around, then?"  
"We'll have to go as soon as our weapons are finished," Sora informed her. "But we'll stop to say goodbye."

"No, I'll stop by, then," Winnie promised. "After supper, I'll meet you all back in the cavern."

Socks spoke up, and Eggs translated: "He says they're probably almost done with the weapons back in the cavern. We should go look. And have some supper ourselves."

"You all go on," Riku encouraged the others. "I…think I want a minute to stay back."

"All right," Eggs replied. "Come on, everyone! Let's go!"

All but Sora and Riku set off up the hill and back into town.

"You…okay?" Sora asked Riku.

"They're so young," Riku told him. "Were we the same way when we were that age? It feels like it's been forever since our island first fell to Darkness and we had our first adventure. But we weren't much older than them, were we?"

"Maybe they'll be the next Keybearers after us," Sora suggested. "They already seem pretty heroic."

"Maybe," Riku answered, "but I'm not going to be the one to give the Keyblade to either of them. Not yet. They deserve to have a normal life for a little longer."

"What, like our lives aren't fun?" Sora rebutted.

"What we do is dangerous."

"And still fun!"

Riku turned to give Sora a smile. "You know something? You're right. Sometimes, I forget to see it. But we do have a lot of fun, don't we?"

Sora settled into a sitting position, watching the sky turn to twilight over the river. "It's a nice view from here," he pointed out.

Riku adopted the same position, adjacent to Sora. "It really is."

"Telling our whole story made me think about all the stuff we've seen all over again," Sora recalled. "We sure have been through a lot, haven't we?"

"And you were asleep for most of it, remember?" Riku nudged Sora playfully.

"Thanks for waking me up," Sora told him.

"It wasn't just me," Riku reminded Sora. "It was Ansem the Wise, Naminé, and Roxas, too." And for the faintest moment, he wondered if there was someone else he should credit, but he couldn't think of anyone.

"Still," Sora responded, "you were the one who stayed by me the whole time to make sure I'd wake up okay. You're always doing things like that, and I dunno if I ever really said thanks for any of it. So, uh…thanks, Riku. For always having my back."

Riku felt a blush rise to his face. "It's nothing," he replied. "Besides, you always have my back, too. You were the only one who was able to bring me back when I fell to Darkness. So thanks for that."

"Anytime, Riku," Sora replied, his own heart suddenly fluttering. "Though that's nothin' compared to diving into a dream of a dream just to protect me."

"That was an accident," Riku laughed. "I don't even think I could do that again if I tried!" Then, after a pause, "I'd still try, though. Every time."

"I'd do the same for you," Sora promised. "I think so long as we have each other, we can do anything!"

"I think you're right," Riku agreed.

Then it almost became a dare: which one of them would say it first?

"I…don't ever want anything bad to happen to you," Riku said softly.

"Me either," Sora replied. "To you."

"Sometimes…after everything we've been through together, and because of everything you've meant to me…" He swallowed hard. He couldn't quite form the words. "You do mean a lot to me. Whenever I'm lost, your smile shows me the way."

"You mean a lot to me too," Sora replied, suddenly finding himself hoping to hear certain words. "I know I used to give you a hard time when we were kids…"

"That was just a year ago."

"You just got done TALKING about how young we were then!"

"I did," Riku admitted with a nod.

"Anyway, whenever you're around, you make me feel like I'm at home, even when we're far away," Sora went on. "A lot of the time, you're the REASON I smile. I actually…well, I kinda…" Maybe he didn't need to hear the words from Riku first. Maybe it was better just to say them. "Love…you."

"I love you too," Riku replied immediately, turning to look at Sora to find Sora giving him that smile he did love so much, absolutely lighting up.

"That's GREAT!" Sora cried. Then, both realizing what they wished to do, they leaned closer to each other until their lips met, shutting their eyes, shutting out the river, the town, the hill so that there was only each other.

When they finally decided to part, Sora stated, "That was a long time coming, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Riku agreed. "It was."

"We should probably go back and check on those weapons," Sora decided.

Riku nodded. He stood first, offering Sora a hand. Sora took it, not so much out of need but because he now wanted to keep in physical contact with Riku since the new definition they'd made for their relationship made it that much more appropriate, and even after Riku had pulled Sora up to his feet, Sora didn't let go, and their hands remained clasped as they set out up the hill.

"This is okay, right?" Sora asked after a few paces. "Or do you want me to let go?"  
"It's more than okay," Riku told him. "Don't let go. Not until you want to."

They never had let go of each other, not once, not even during the days of their rivalry, they realized.

...

Jafar and Hades had spent most of their time since arriving in the Black Sands poring over every book they could find in the citadel. Mozenrath had amassed quite the collection of magical knowledge, and there was other information in the library that the duo knew would be of use to Maleficent were they searching for other matters. And there were books in every single room. Hades doubted Mozenrath had actually read them all. He wasn't even convinced Destane had read them all.

Jafar had insisted that if the knowledge they sought wasn't there, there was no shortage of fountains of wisdom throughout the Seven Deserts that could provide the needed information. Still, they had to make sure they had exhausted the Black Sands first. It was, after all, their hub on that world, and any other information they acquired elsewhere would have to be brought back to it.

All that time spent rifling through old books had given Hades a serious need to actually get outside and breathe non-musty air. He saluted each Heartless posted at the major street intersections with a "Hi, how ya doin', babe?", even though he knew they wouldn't answer. The Mamluks that still roamed the streets, he was far less friendly to. Maleficent had insisted keeping them around would give them a valuable asset. Hades just wanted them to be fully dead, or, barring that, be fully alive. Their state of half-death infuriated him because it showed him just how close he was to having them in his personal domain in a way the others couldn't touch. Amassed in the Underworld, their poor cursed souls would probably make an untouchable fighting force, albeit a little more reluctant to listen to orders with their consciousness intact. Or did they have intact consciousness, and Mozenrath had just beaten them into submission? Hades couldn't tell, and that was another thing he hated about them.

As he strolled, he thought he caught a brief flicker of movement just up ahead, around a corner. Suspicions raised, he strode forward.

The portal ringed with green flame appeared behind him, and a calm female voice stated his name: "Hades."

"Maleficent!" Hades spun to greet his boss. "Babe!" She was visible on the other side of a portal that offered visibility from the streets of the Black Sands directly into the halls of Villain's Vale.

"We discussed your referencing me with such base labels," Maleficent replied grumpily.

"Yeah, yeah, I got it, I remember," Hades sighed. "So what's the occasion?"

"The occasion is that I require a progress report from you and Jafar," Maleficent stated. "Have you found anything of worth?"  
"Believe me, ba – Malef, there's a LOT here worth checkin' out. Everything EXCEPT the thing we came here lookin' for. Jaffie's still tryin' to read every single book in the place, and if we run out, he's takin' us to excavate some lost kingdom called Mesmaria for their books on magic. I thought this was gonna be a field trip, not study hour."

"I see," Maleficent replied. She was none too happy that Hades and Jafar hadn't found anything on the subject of absorbing Keyblades, but at the same time, she knew punishing them would only hinder the effort; she still needed them to be able to search for what she wanted. "Have there been any intrusions from Mozenrath and his pathetic excuses for henchmen?"

"Not a peep from the brat's corner," Hades relayed. "Wherever he is now."

"If you catch wind of his presence in any sense," Maleficent commanded, "destroy all of them except for Mozenrath himself. I wish to see to him personally this time. He has evaded us far too long."

"Believe me, I'd love to add him and his pals to the collection," Hades assured her. "And Jaffie wants a couple swings at the redheads for that stunt back on Atmos."

"One more matter I wish to discuss, Hades," Maleficent said coolly. "Has there been any unrest among the prisoners?"

"They're mad as Tartarus," Hades assured her, "but they're all under pretty heavy magical lock and key. Nothin' to worry about, Malef."

"Good," Maleficent said, satisfied with that at least. "Make sure that remains the status quo."

"Can do, Malef! So, how're things back at the Vale?"

"We are in the process of acquiring the proper equipment with which to outfit Cruella's colorful band of allies," Maleficent informed him. "They may be just what is needed to defeat the Many-Colored Death. While they are proficient in their field, however, their skills only reach so far. I hope this does not amount to having simply replaced Pete with a set of minions with similar incompetence."

"Then get somebody else on board," Hades suggested. "Somebody you KNOW can deliver the goods. Check out who else is world-hoppin' and has a sweet tooth for Darkness."

"I had considered it," Maleficent admitted. "Should employing Cruella's allies turn sour, our ranks would benefit from having a powerful fallback."

"An ace up your sleeve, so to speak."

"I shall request progress reports often," Maleficent emphasized. "I expect you will not waste the time you are given."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

The portal faded, and Hades rolled his eyes. "I expect you will not waste the time you are given," he repeated in a nasal voice. "Whaddaya take me for, anyway? Some kinda slack-off? I'm the Lord of the Dead. I don't even have to take this."

He then made good on turning the corner he thought he'd seen something around earlier. It led to an empty street that opened up to several other avenues. Hades shrugged, figuring if anything had been there, the Heartless and the Mamluks would make short work of it.

He hadn't been wrong about seeing movement. Someone had, in fact, been hidden around that corner, and had listened in on every word he'd exchanged with Maleficent. Earlier that day, after finding Jasmine returning from her all-night storytelling session, Razoul had decided that if there was a threat in the Black Sands, he wasn't going to sit idly by without knowing a bit more about the enemy. So, unbeknownst to the royal family, he had taken a small contingent of the guard to the shadowy, empty kingdom, where he had fully expected to obtain intel on Mozenrath. To hear the name "Maleficent" whispered in these streets was a wholly different matter, and it was especially surprising to hear that she had issued a command of death to Mozenrath. What did she have this gray sorcerer with blue fire atop his head in place of fire looking for, anyway? And, even more chillingly…when she had said the name "Jafar," did that signify the return of the one person Razoul hoped never to see again?

When he'd heard Hades mock Maleficent, he'd known she had disappeared, and Hades would be coming around the corner soon; Razoul hustled the four guards who accompanied him down a turn off the street they'd used as their hiding place and through a veritable labyrinth of narrow roads thereafter. "I knew there was something going on in this land!" Razoul hissed.

"What do we do now?" one of the other guards whispered.

"We make our way back to Agrabah," Razoul replied, equally hushed, "and inform the royal family of this – "

The quintet turned onto a street that was absolutely packed with Mamluks. The undead soldiers all stared at the living prey that had stumbled into their patrolling domain.

Razoul was startled, but was emotionally no worse off than that. As the zombies all reached for their weaponry, Razoul drew his own sword, holding it aloft. "HAVE AT THEM!" he cried, charging directly into the center of the crowd, blade gleaming as it sliced through the air.

...

At the heart of the 42nd iteration of Gotham City, there lay a warehouse. And in this warehouse, stuffed to the brim with giant toys and other seemingly whimsical decorations, a man with pale skin and long green hair, clothed in a lengthy violet coat, was sketching out a fiendish plan.

"And then the Comissioner will have no choice but to press the button that rolls the dice," he cackled to himself, his voice deep and husky. "That decides where the bomb goes off, and he'll be the one responsible! The only way this plan could get any better is if I could get the Bat to be the one to roll snake eyes!"

"Giant dice?" a voice sounded from the shadows, startling the man, who'd been sure he was alone in his lair. "What child's play."

"Who's there?" The man spun around, scowling into the dark recesses of the warehouse. "Come out where I can see you!"

"Wouldn't want anyone to miss out on seeing this pretty face," the other replied, walking forth until he was in full view. The 24th Joker, having followed the clues left in the criminal underworld to this very warehouse, lay eyes on this world's native 42nd Joker. "So you're supposed to be me on this world?" he said with a shake of the head and a click of the tongue. "What a disappointment!"

"Excuse me?" The 42nd Joker's scowl deepened. "What's THAT supposed to mean?"

"Simply that you and I are halves of the same playing card," the 24th Joker stated, grinning. "Though you don't seem to be a Joker so much as that king who's stabbing himself in the back of the head."

"Halves of the same playing card?" The 42nd Joker's scowl was immediately reverted into a grin. "You're just a bad photocopy! Is that supposed to be my suit and makeup you're wearing? You go to all that trouble to imitate me, and first of all, you don't even bother to get my hair right. Second, the saying is that IMITATION is the sincerest form of flattery. Not insults."

"Oh, no, I don't think you understand," the 24th Joker retaliated. "I'm not trying to imitate you. I AM you from another world! Yes, yes, I know it's a lot to take in. I thought I'd drop in and see just what the version of me that lived HERE was like. But the more I asked around, the more I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Imprisoning policemen in giant playing cards? Talk about trying too hard. And giant gumballs? Really? At the VERY least, you got the gas part right. Like I really wanted to hear that the best thing about myself was being gassy."

The 42nd Joker took a moment to let the 24th Joker's words sink in. Then he began to laugh, progressively louder and more dramatically, clocking in at about a minute and a half of solid laughter before saying, "You think you're another me from another world? You're even crazier than I am!"

"That's the idea," the 24th Joker said. "Sadly, I'm afraid I have to take you out of play. There simply isn't room in this deck for two Jokers."

"YOU, take ME out of play?" the 42nd Joker laughed. "Go ahead and try. I already have the winning hand!"

They charged each other at the same time. The 42nd leapt into the air and spun, dealing a kick to the 24th's chest. The 24th staggered back, half falling toward the recesses of the warehouse from which he'd come. The 42nd gave chase, picking up a long and nasty-looking knife from atop a nearby crate.

"Don't come any closer!" the 24th begged, his tone of voice suggesting desperation as he retreated into the darkness.

"What's that you said?" the 42nd mocked. "All I heard was…'COME CLOSER'!" He charged.

And then he felt the 24th's knee connect with his solar plexus, disorienting him. The 24th then spun the 42nd around, holding one arm behind his back and using the other, the one bearing the knife, to point up at the 42nd's own throat. Out of instinct to survive, the 42nd dropped the knife; it clanged on the floor.

"I warned you not to come any closer!" the 24th teased, kicking up the Lexcorp cannon from its hiding place into one arm. His other arm locked sharply around the 42nd Joker's neck, squeezing several choked sounds from him. The barrel of the cannon was placed square against the 42nd's back as best as the 24th could wield it with one arm.

"It's been fun, really, it has," the 24th remarked. "But all good things must come to an end. Oh, and I guess you have to come to an end as well."

He pulled the trigger, and suddenly, the 42nd Joker was more than metaphorically heartless, as the cannon pierced a hole through his chest that disintegrated it completely. The 42nd Joker's dead body slumped forward and thudded onto the cement.

"Pity," the 24th Joker, now the only Joker still living on that world, remarked. "You'd have thought a Joker would have lasted a little longer. Maybe I had the wrong guy…" He shrugged. Wrong guy or not, he wanted to put a final touch on his defeat and expunge the other Joker's existence completely, and in order to do that, he had to be outside the building.

As he walked out, someone else walked in through the opposite door: a young woman clothed in the red-and-black vestments of a jester. "Oh, Puddin'!" Harley Quinn called out cheerfully as she spun a purse around in a playful circle, "I'm back from robbin' the natural history museum! And you won't BELIEVE what I picked up…" Her smile immediately faded as she saw the body of her "Puddin'" lying prone on the floor. "Mr…J?"

She rushed to him, kneeling, and it was impossible to miss the fatal wound that pierced him, blood already leaking out into a puddle around him on the concrete floor. "Oh, no," Harley whimpered, her eyes filling up with tears. "Oh, no, no, no…Mr. J…no…"

She gently flipped him over, and through the building water, her eyes were able to pick out the abrasions on his neck that marked attempted strangulation. No sooner had she taken notice of that small detail than she caught the distinct whiff of fire. Outside, unbeknownst to her knowledge, the surviving Joker had set the building aflame. The first of the flames crept inside the warehouse, catching onto a crate and blossoming.

Harley stood and ran, abandoning the body of her ill-chosen beloved. She considered going back to drag him out, but he was already dead, and it would slow her down too much. She was able to get out of the warehouse before the entire building gave way to conflagration, bolting down the street, losing her purse containing some very valuable fossils in the process but no longer caring about her score of theft.

As she ran, her tears ran down her face ever thicker, threatening to wipe away her white makeup. Someone had shot her Joker. But, more notably, that same someone, or perhaps "someones," had tried to strangle him with their bare arm and then set the lair on fire to dispose of the body.

Harley's heart broke as she reached a tragic and, unfortunately, very mistaken conclusion.


	31. Publicity Stunts

31\. Publicity Stunts

The march of Mozenrath's amassed followers proceeded through many more lands, and though the Amarganthians and the denizens of the Land of Ghosts made up the bulk of the entourage, new followers attached themselves to the group here and there, believing Mozenrath to be the savior needed in the Empress' absence.

Inside the palanquin, Mozenrath's patience was running short. "Shouldn't we be there by now?" he huffed.

"That depends," Xayide informed him. "The geography of Fantastica is ever-changing. There is no way of knowing how many lands lie between us and the Ivory Tower. However, I do know that so long as we fix that destination in mind, we will reach it."

"And if Fantastica decides it doesn't WANT us to reach the tower?" Yzma pointed out.

"Villains always get their chance in Fantastica," Xayide told her. "How else would stories be told? I suggest we pass the time by planning the coronation. I expect nothing less than a complete spectacle." She held her palms outward, and above them hovered an illusion of a majestic throne made completely of mirrors. "This is the throne I designed for Bastian Balthazar Bux," she explained. "It had seemed like the most glamorous thing I could imagine at the time, but now it appears paltry to me. It must be replaced."

"What of a dragon design?" the Huntsman suggested.

"I find it hard to believe you of all people want my reign to be symbolized by a dragon," Mozenrath commented.

"I want your rule to be symbolized by you subjugating a dragon and forcing it to be your seat of power," the Huntsman emphasized.

"I was thinking something more like a peacock," Mozenrath mulled over. "Nonthreatening to the eye, but symbolic of wealth and power all the same. Not to mention the detail work we could do with the tail fan."

"You mean this?" Xayide responded, creating an illusion of a throne with a bejeweled peacock tail spreading out majestically behind it.

"I feel like that's been done before," Yzma observed.

"Who would have done THIS before?" Mozenrath asked, deadpan.

The Evil Queen Grimhilde, of course, but no one knew that.

"What else would my emperor like for his grand coronation day?" Xayide asked.

"Well, confetti is a must," Yzma insisted. "As is glitter."

"I heard that when my rival turned up in Agrabah pretending to be a prince," Mozenrath threw in, "he came in a procession containing seventy-five golden camels, fifty-three purple peacocks, ninety-five white Persian monkeys, and sixty elephants. I want at least twice as many of each of these things."

The rest of the journey was relatively short to them, as the amount of fineries Mozenrath wanted for his conquest kept growing and growing in number and extravagance.

...

Grimhilde stood before her mirror, speaking to it of things she wished to view. It showed her the buzzing town squares of Radiant Garden, the inner view of the castle at town's center and those who plotted within its library, the outskirts of town and the Heartless that amassed there.

"What are you looking at?" Maleficent asked rather cheerfully as she entered the room.

"This world," Grimhilde informed her, "and all of its weaknesses."

"Have you been practicing what I requested?"

"The art of seeing other worlds through my mirror," Grimhilde reiterated. "I have made much headway. Watch." She cast her hand to the glass. "Magic mirror with which I scry, show me the state of the Atmos skies."

The scene within the glass changed to an overhead view of a large area of Atmos; the skies were clouded with thick smoke billowing up from the Terras that Mozenrath's battleship had ruined.

"Though I suspect you wish to know the state of more pertinent matters," Grimhilde continued. "Magic mirror, far you now look. Show the location of the prophetic book."

The glass simply went dark.

"Fool," Maleficent growled. "The Book of Prophecies is enchanted so that no manner of magical scrying can locate it."

"Then perhaps you wish to know this instead," Grimhilde posed. "Magic mirror that none eyes can replace, turn thy gaze to the farthest space. In sea or land, in space or air, show us where Mozenrath makes his lair."

The Cyclonian warship filled the glass. "I could locate it more accurately," Grimhilde went on, "if you wish to destroy it now."

"We have other matters to attend to," Maleficent informed Grimhilde. "It will be useful to know where Mozenrath is and what he is doing. However, he has already proven to be an almost respectable foe. If we do not need to trouble him, we shan't. Much like our relationship with those who inhabit the castle of this world."

"From your own recollections, you did not take such an attitude when you sought him out on Remnant to destroy him," Grimhilde reminded Maleficent.

"Let the others believe Mozenrath is the reason I visited Remnant," Maleficent replied cryptically. "I can assure you it was not."

Grimhilde knew better than to ask; she wouldn't get an answer. "Then what is it you seek?"

"To bolster our forces," Maleficent answered. "Show me one who has crossed the worlds without our assistance. Show me one whose heart is steeped in Darkness, even if they lack the power to wield it as magic. Show me one worthy of serving as Pete's replacement."

"Magic mirror," Grimhilde instructed, "put that image to rest. Show me instead what my mistress requests."

The mirror's glass filled with a montage of images, and for the first time since Maleficent had entered, it spoke, its voice clear and loud: "This mysterious one wears a cynical grin." The 24th Joker was shown threatening Lex Luthor into submission before escaping into the alternate dimension he now called his stomping ground. "He outclassed and murdered a parallel twin." His grapple with the 42nd Joker, then the brutal murder, took place. "Nameless save 'Joker,' he currently takes flight through the 42nd Gotham's metropolitan lights." He ran through the streets of Gotham, laughing. The image faded into the mirror's green, eyeless face. "He deals in sadism and cruelty abound. His heart in the Darkness can truly be found. He is opportunistic and tries to beguile, but a rotten soul lurks beneath his smile."

"This interests me." Maleficent smiled. "Show me more of this…Joker."

She watched, rapt, as the mirror obliged.

...

As Sora and Riku arrived in the Boxtroll cavern, Mog informed them, "You're just in time for the grand unveiling, kupo!"

Fish stepped back to gesture toward the myriad of newly forged weapons that lay on the ground, announcing, "TA-DAAAAAA!"

In all the multiverse, there is hardly a better source of craftsmanship than the combination of Moogle and Boxtroll handiwork. A black sword, its blade shaped like a dragon's wing, rested on a sheet on the floor, first in line. It was almost identical to Riku's old Soul Eater blade but for the stone set in the handle, which was a smooth, polished blue stone that, unlike the previous adornment, bore no resemblance to an eye. Riku bent down, picked it up, and gave it an experimental swing, to which the Boxtrolls all thumped their boxes joyfully. "I think this'll work!" Riku laughed.

Next to it, a golden sword adorned with flowers on the hilt was obviously intended for Kairi. A battle-axe of silver adorned with green sat next to a crossbow of silver accented with bright yellow; three silver swords shot through with red, pink, and light blue were next in line. The newly built Magnhild and Stormflower came next. But the final piece in the lineup was the one Fish was the most excited about, rushing to hold up the shield and sword of Crocea Mors and talking up a storm about it.

"He says that the metal you provided us with for accents works perfectly," Jelly translated.

"Jaune will be really glad to know that," Sora said with a nod. "Now it can be like Pyrrha's there with us!"

"You say that like we actually met her," Riku pointed out.

"If Jaune liked her," Sora stated, "she had to be a good friend, right?" He turned to look out over Mog, Fish, Jelly, and the rest of the crowd. "Thanks for helping us out with these."

The Boxtrolls chorused a phrase that was unmistakably "You're welcome!"

"Anytime, kupo!" Mog added. "These were very fun to put together!"

"You are welcome indeed," Jelly stated, "though this does concern me."

"How so?" Sora asked.

"All of these weapons being made for war," Jelly admitted. "I do hope trouble does not come to this town in the form of a fight."

"Don't worry," Riku promised. "We'll do our best to protect this town and stop anyone from hurting it."

"Even Snatcher?" Eggs questioned.

"Archibald Snatcher?" Jelly repeated, flinching, suddenly overcome with an expression of horror. "What has he got to do with this? He's…he's long gone."

"I'll explain later," Eggs promised.

Riku looked long and hard at Jelly. There was something strange about the tone of his voice, something not quite ringing true. It was melancholy, Riku realized. Jelly spoke with melancholy, as though he had a reason to be wistful about Snatcher's return rather than simply afraid and enraged. He wanted to know what had brought this on, but he knew better than to ask.

"Well, looks like we should be moving on," Sora decided. "If Mog's ready, that is."

Mog had flitted to Fish's side, and burbled something softly to Fish in his own language. Fish responded in kind, and clasped Mog's arms in his hands briefly. The two shared a kiss goodbye before Fish let Mog go, telling him a cheerful goodbye, which Mog returned. Mog then approached Sora. "I'm ready, kupo," he announced.

"It was really nice to meet you all," Sora said loudly enough for the entire group to hear. He then stepped up toward Eggs. "How about a handshake goodbye?" Sora and Eggs both raised their hands up to the level of their heads, shaking them wildly.

Riku bit his lip to keep from laughing. "Thanks for everything," he added.

"Will we see you again?" Eggs asked.

"You know it!" Sora promised.

...

Wuya, Irmaplotz, Neo, Snipe, and Xerxes had noticed that several of their number seemed to have vanished from the moto-jousting arena, and launched an expedition to find any trace of them that explained what would have happened. Vexen and Ravess made it clear that neither of them could have cared less about Roman, Snatcher, Mim, and Aghoul's whereabouts and had gone off to their own devices. Eventually, Wuya, Irmaplotz, Neo, Snipe, and Xerxes found themselves in the kitchen where the note had been left, and Wuya's brow furrowed as she tried to decipher Mim's handwriting and spelling.

"Am I even holding the note the right way up?" she grumbled, turning the paper over a few times.

"Let me see that," Irmaplotz demanded, holding out a hand.

Wuya surrendered the paper, and Irmaplotz scanned it. "It says Mim, Aghoul, Roman, and Snatcher went on an errand to another world to…build a criminal empire." She blinked a few times in surprise. "And also, we're apparently out of peanut butter."

"Can you BELIEVE this?" Wuya growled.

"No!" Snipe yapped. "What am I supposed to make my peanut butter and ketchup sandwiches with NOW?"

"NOT THAT!" Wuya snapped. "The fact that they went on an adventure without us!"

Neo nodded fervently, her eyes flashing bright red.

"Xerxes forgotten again," the eel sighed.

"I have half a mind to take off on a conquest mission of our own," Wuya grumbled. "But then, of course, that would risk leaving the base in the hands of the underlings…" She then realized she was surrounded completely by "underlings." "No offense."

"None taken," Irmaplotz said casually.

"I don't get it," Snipe added. "Hey…that bites! There's nobody to joust against except GIRLS now!"

"EXCUSE ME?" Wuya growled.

"Wanna run that by me again?" Irmaplotz added. "Pick your words carefully."

Neo simply drew her sword.

"Come on, you know what I mean!" Snipe went on. "You're all just a bunch of weak little girls! I could beat all three of you in a jousting match with one hand behind my back!"

Wuya looked to Irmaplotz, then to Neo. From the smiles that were overtaking all three of their faces, she knew they were all thinking the same thing. "Care to make that…interesting?" Wuya implored, looking back to Snipe. "Put your money where your mouth is."

"Ohhh, no, you're not getting me to eat money!" Snipe replied. "I fell for that trick once, and I'm not falling for it again!"

"No," Wuya corrected. "I mean you do what you just said. Fight all three of us at once. Then we'll see who's really the weakling around here. Though I recommend you don't actually have a hand tied behind your back."

"You're on!" Snipe cried, pointing at Wuya dramatically. A thought occurred to him: "But no cheating with magic or illusions!"

"If you're so confident you can beat us," Irmaplotz asked, "why do you have to tell us not to use magic?"

"No, no." Wuya held up a hand in front of Irmaplotz. "Let the man have his request. No magic. No Semblance. Just three versus one jousting." She put out a hand. "What do you say?"

"I say bring it!" Before Wuya could stop him, Snipe had spat in his hand and used it to clasp hers to seal the deal. Irmaplotz, Neo, and Wuya cringed in unison.

"This not end well," Xerxes muttered.

...

The jousting arena was set up. Snipe stood at one end, next to his standard mechanical steed. At the other, Neo, Wuya, and Irmaplotz buckled on helmets before straddling and revving up their own bikes.

"You girls are goin' down," Snipe proclaimed before mounting his motorcycle.

"This is your last chance to put on extra protective padding," Wuya warned.

"That stuff's for babies!" Snipe chided.

"Suit yourself," Wuya said with a slight shoulder shrug.

"ON MARK!" Xerxes called out. "GET SET!"

Snipe and Wuya glared daggers at each other. Wuya's lips curled into a smirk.

"GO!"

Though the arena was next door to one of the base's small libraries, the walls were thick enough that the sound of the zooming motors was muffled. This pleased Vexen, who had chosen that particular library to look for new reading material. Satisfied with a thick tome, he settled into a comfortable leather chair and cracked the book open.

He was suddenly aware of a soft noise coming from inside the same room: footfalls. His gaze rose from his book to behold Ravess searching the shelves for something of her own to read. Ravess looked back over her shoulder at him, flinching a little when she realized his green eyes were fixed right upon her. "I didn't disturb you, did I?" she asked, her tone only slightly standoffish.

"Not at all," Vexen replied, rather lacking in scorn himself. "Do keep the volume down, of course."

"I intend to," Ravess promised before turning back to select a book. Without a further word, she dropped into a chair of her own and began to read. Vexen turned back to his own reading material.

There was something rather pleasant, they both realized, about simply being able to share the room with someone else who wished to make no attempt at social interaction and instead just read quietly.

Unfortunately for both of them, though the walls were thick enough to be soundproof, Irmaplotz was strong enough that if she rammed her motorcycle into Snipe's at a perpendicular angle, she was able to plow him right through that wall and shove his bike all the way across the library. That was exactly what happened.

Ravess and Vexen leapt up onto their chairs to avoid any chance of their feet being mashed by the oncoming force. Snipe's motorcycle slammed into the wall hard, at which point Irmaplotz threw her bike into reverse. Wuya and Neo were hot on her wheels.

Snipe tried to get his bearings, turning his bike around. Neo pulled up next to him, deftly spinning so that her hands rested on the seat of her bike and her legs were free to kick. Kick they did, right into Snipe's chest, knocking him right off his bike and onto the library floor. His bike careened out of control, crashing into a bookcase dangerously near Vexen and halting only when the bookcase toppled onto it. That gave Wuya an idea; she careened around to the nearest bookshelf to Snipe and briefly removed her hands from the bars of the motorcycle long enough to grasp the shelf and pull it right down on top of Snipe, who, thanks to his bulky muscles, was only slightly bruised by the onslaught.

Wuya threw her motorcycle into park, then dismounted to look down at Snipe, hands on hips. Irmaplotz and Neo pulled their bikes into halts as well, joining Wuya. "Still think you have what it takes to beat three weak little girls?" Wuya taunted.

Snipe was too disoriented to answer.

"That's what I thought," Wuya said proudly before turning on a heel and making as though to stalk out of the library through the hole in the wall; Irmaplotz and Neo followed suit.

"NOW WAIT JUST A MOMENT!" Vexen threw himself in their path. "YOU COULD HAVE KILLED US BOTH WITH THAT LITTLE STUNT!"

"And what's more!" Ravess joined him. "You've RUINED a perfectly good library!"

"Blame him," Wuya said, pointing back to Snipe. "This was his idea. We would have left everything completely alone if he hadn't wanted to protect his ego."

"I thought you couldn't get mad," Irmaplotz pointed out. "You don't have a heart."

"Old habits, it seems, die hard," Vexen grumbled. "When I see something that would have made me angry, I am apparently conditioned to go through the motions of anger."

"So you're not actually angry," Irmaplotz pointed out.

"I FEEL very little toward the situation," Vexen argued, "but I have quite a few THOUGHTS toward it, and none of them are positive." He folded his arms.  
"Well, that's just your problem," Wuya remarked, stepping around him to walk back out to the arena.

"I'M angry!" Ravess reminded the triad. "Isn't ANYONE going to apologize for nearly murdering us both and for destroying one-of-a-kind books?"

Neo shook her head as she passed.

"Snipe started it," Irmaplotz insisted as she followed.

Ravess and Vexen's heads both whipped angrily back toward where Snipe had been pinned underneath the bookshelf, but by that time, he was gone, having pried the shelf off of him so he could escape out the library's main door (and leaving the shelf to just fall back down on the empty floor in his place). By then, a suspicious plume of smoke was rising from the wreckage of his motorcycle; Vexen covered the area in a layer of frost just to be safe.

"We must DO something about your brother before he turns this entire base into a scrap heap," Vexen grumbled.

"I agree," Ravess replied. "But once he gets his mind set on something, it's almost impossible to shake it out of him. He only has room for one thought at a time, and today, that thought is moto-jousting."

"Perhaps a recent feature of this base can lend us a hand in subduing our little problem," Vexen theorized. "I shall need to do some testing."

"Whatever you're thinking, I'll gladly assist," Ravess volunteered.

...

The Agrabanian palace was surrounded by a veritable labyrinth of courtyards that branched off the primary yard, and Kairi had taken to exploring these. There seemed to be no end to the gorgeous greenery.

She became aware of the sound of a woman's voice, one she had never heard, tinny as though filtered through an electronic device. Curious, Kairi made her way toward the sound, finding herself in a smaller walled-off area with a miniature fountain and a sprinkling of blue flowers.

Jaune stood with his back to her, his scroll propped up on a shrub. "All right, Jaune," the voice said from the scroll. "Just like we practiced."

Jaune took a ready stance, holding up a branch as though it were his sword.

"Follow these instructions," the voice continued. "Shield up!"

Jaune braced his shield arm in front of him as though his defense device were still with him. He knew the drill wouldn't be the same if he didn't have the real thing to compensate for the weight of, but all the same, he had felt drawn to practice this way.

"Keep your grip tight!" the scroll commanded, and Jaune's fingers tightened around the branch. "And don't forget to keep your front foot forward!" Jaune edged out his foot, keeping in line with the instructions.

Kairi watched in silence as the scroll talked him through the drill, Jaune swinging the branch as though it were his sword. When the instructions ended, Jaune paused, waiting for what came next, knowing what he would feel but still compelled to listen all the same.

"I want you to know that I'm happy just to be a part of your life," the voice said rather unsurely. "I'll always be here for you, Jaune." It was as if she knew, Jaune thought, not for the first time. It was as if she knew she would no longer be there one day, and needed to record the words for him to hear when she could no longer say them to his face. He hung his head; the branch fell from his limp fingers. A small gasp escaped his lips as he tried to hold back from tears.

Kairi wondered whether she should say something or whether she should just back away and pretend she'd seen nothing. After all, she knew she had just intruded on something very personal, something she knew nothing about. But neither did she want to leave Jaune in distress, and that won out. "Jaune?"

Startled, Jaune whipped about to face the one who'd addressed him. "Kairi!" he gasped. He forced his heart rate and breathing to slow. "Uh…what's up?" He forced a smile.

"I'm sorry," Kairi began. "I know I shouldn't have seen what just happened."

"The whole thing, huh?" Jaune replied softly, sheepishly.

"From the part where the voice told you to put your shield up," Kairi confessed.

"The voice," Jaune repeated, realization dawning upon him. "You…never saw her before. You never heard her."

Kairi was about to ask who he meant, but the answer was obvious. "Was that Pyrrha?"

Jaune bent to retrieve the scroll, bringing it over toward Kairi. "Would…you like to meet her? So to speak."

"I'd love to."

Jaune started the recording over again at a much lower volume, resting the scroll in Kairi's hands. She looked down at the screen, into the green eyes of the redheaded warrior. And as Pyrrha spoke, repeating the steps of the drill, Kairi smiled. She could already tell just from this brief glimpse that Pyrrha was kind. If she were alive, Kairi thought, she could tell they would have made great friends. "She seems wonderful," Kairi stated once Pyrrha had once again proclaimed her happiness to be part of Jaune's life.

"She was."

"I'm sorry she isn't still here," Kairi said sincerely.

"It's okay," Jaune replied, though he wasn't quite sure it was. "She'd…she'd want me to move on. To be happy without her. I mean, before she went up against Cinder, the last thing she did was get me to safety so I wouldn't get hurt – " His voice cracked, and he cut himself off. After a moment of silence, he began again: "I KNOW she'd want me to move on. But…I can't. Not yet."

"That's okay," Kairi reassured him. "It wasn't that long ago, and she was special to you. I know if I ever lost Sora or Riku, I wouldn't be the same for a long time." She was aware the analogy wasn't quite correct, but didn't have a better one.

Jaune shifted awkwardly. "The thing is…I know there are people worth moving on for. So why can't I just…pick myself up and do it?"

"You will, one day," Kairi encouraged. "Don't rush it. Those people will wait for you."

It made Jaune wonder, for a moment, if they were talking about the same person. "So, uh…" He ruffled his own hair with a hand nervously. "How've you been?"

"I always love visiting Agrabah," Kairi told him with a smile. "It's one of the most beautiful cities in the worlds. It's just so…alive!"

"It really is," Jaune agreed. "I'm glad I came here."

Kairi's expression turned somber for a moment, and Jaune asked, "Is something bothering you?"

"I'm trying not to let it get to me," Kairi sighed, "but I'm still worried about the fact that we couldn't find Even. I don't even know if he was that nice to me when I was young, and I know he didn't get along well with the rest of the Committee, but knowing the part he played in my past makes him kind of like family. What if something happened to him?"

"We're going to do our best to find him, no matter what," Jaune insisted. He let out a sigh. "I'm tired, Kairi. Tired of losing everything. So I'm gonna do whatever I can to make sure you don't lose everything too, okay?"

She was taken aback by the comment, her heart fluttering. "You really don't have to do that for me."

"It's the least I can do for a good friend," Jaune insisted.

Both were jolted from their conversation by the sound of Razoul bellowing "Your highness! YOUR HIGHNESS!"

Without needing any further signal, Kairi and Jaune both rushed into the central courtyard only to find the Agrabanian royal family and all of their guests doing the same. Razoul and his company of guards had arrived, their uniforms torn, their skin bruised and in some places bloodied.

"Razoul!" Jasmine gasped. "What happened?"

"A scouting party…to the Black Sands," Razoul answered, short of breath.

"I didn't order any such thing," the Sultan said sternly.

"We went of our own accord to gather information on the current threats to the kingdoms of the Seven Deserts," Razoul admitted. "We ran into a company of Mamluks on our way out. We prevailed."

"But you're hurt," Jasmine pointed out. "You should go rest until – "

"This cannot wait," Razoul interrupted. "You need to know the intelligence we gathered."

"It only takes one of you to tell us that," Aladdin pointed out. "The rest of you can go patch up those wounds."

Razoul turned to the other guards to tell them, "Dismissed." As they hobbled away to tend to their injuries, Razoul returned his attention to his audience. "We had thought to find Mozenrath there," he explained. "The situation seems to be…worse. You will recall telling us of fighting one who called himself a god of the dead?"

"Hades, yeah," Aladdin recalled. "HE was there?"

"As a servant of the one called 'Maleficent' and in communication with her," Razoul went on. "And even worse, he made reference to someone named 'Jafar.' We are hoping he does not mean…"

"But that's impossible," the Sultan interjected. "Jafar is dead."

"Not necessarily," Aladdin pointed out. "Hades brought him back to life that one time. And from what I've heard about Maleficent…" He turned to look at Kairi.

Kairi nodded. "We thought she was dead, too. But she keeps coming back and bringing others with her."

"Then I am afraid we may be dealing with a ghost from the past," Razoul went on. "Hades and Jafar seemed to be looking for some sort of magical knowledge. We don't know what."

"But what about Mozenrath?" Jasmine asked.

"That's what is strange," Razoul stated. "They mentioned Mozenrath…but they seem to be at odds with him. He has lost control of the Black Sands to them."

"So whatever Maleficent's doing…isn't related to whatever Mozenrath's doing?" Aladdin clarified.

"So we have at LEAST two groups of murderous villains out to get us," Stork reiterated. "Greeeaaaaat."

"The Black Sands belongs to Maleficent now?" Kairi pressed. "Are you sure?"  
"As far as we can tell, Your Highness," Razoul told Kairi.

Kairi muttered a word.

"Huh?" Jaune asked.

She said it louder: "Even. What if that's where they're keeping Even?"

"Then we have to go get him back," Jaune said immediately.

"Um, no weapons, remember?" Stork chided. "What are we going to do, just march in unarmed?"  
"We can't just storm the Black Sands without a plan," Jasmine added.

"Is that really what we're about to do?" the Sultan said, taken aback. "Storm the Black Sands?"  
"If Kairi has a friend there," Aladdin insisted, "then that's exactly what we're going to do. But we do have to be smart about it."

"The streets are crawling with more than just Mamluks," Razoul reported. "There are giant creatures of all manner, though most of them bear the same emblem."

"Is it this?" Kairi traced a shape in the air: a heart with an elongated and stylized bottom, shot through with an X.

"The very same!" Razoul cried.

"Heartless," Kairi said with a nod. "We'll really have to be careful."

"So how are we going to do this?" Jaune asked.

"I don't know yet," Aladdin answered, "but we'll think of something."

...

The Joker, now the only Joker to roam 42nd Gotham, found himself at somewhat of a crossroads. He had ideas. Many, many ideas…and yet no resources besides Luthor's cannon. No bombs, no airships, no deadly toys. He stalked the alleys of the city, peering out at the streets and the cars that passed by. He wanted to shake this city up: introduce it to the new Joker, the real Joker. But how was he to do that starting from scratch? Where was the first step?

A streetlamp flickered overhead, its light obviously failing. Then its light suddenly began to shine consistently brightly, as though it had fixed itself. The Joker only noticed this because it had been in his peripheral vision. He turned to acknowledge the lamp, then looked back out at the street. That was when he realized, really, why the light had stopped flickering. It had simply frozen. Just like everything else.

The cars no longer moved, halted in place on the road. Curious, the Joker stepped out into plain sight on the street. There was no uproar at the freeze of traffic, meaning it wasn't just a synchronized motor failure. Furthermore, while he knew he didn't look like the Joker this world knew, the Joker was most certainly recognizable as a Joker, and no one was pointing him out and screaming bloody murder. There were indeed pedestrians to be found on the sidewalks, but they were frozen mid-stride. Joker waved a hand in front of one of them to try and get them to move. Snapped his fingers. Slapped him across the face and laughed because there was nothing the hapless man could do about it. He thought about what worse he could do when the voice interrupted him:  
"Enjoying yourself?"  
He whipped about to see her standing behind him: tall, perfectly postured, draped in black robes with her horned cowl. She stood so still that Joker would have thought her frozen in time as well if not for the fact that he had heard her speak and knew that she had only just arrived.

"I was just starting to, really," he replied, arms spreading into a shrug. "Imagine the possibilities, after all!"

"I hardly need to," Maleficent replied coyly, "though I am sure you have more than a few creative ideas."

"So let me guess," Joker went on. "You're the one who made everything stop. That's some costume you're wearing. Batsy must have some real fun with you."

"I am not one of the…eccentric ne'er-do-wells that call Gotham home," Maleficent explained. "I have my sights set on much higher than mere bank robberies."

"Oh, really? Care to explain to me the point of bringing all of Gotham to a screeching halt?"  
"You and I have something in common, Joker," Maleficent explained. "Though we express it quite differently, we are both destructive spirits. I had hoped that perhaps we could align our goals into a single objective. You have traveled the worlds, and therefore know of their vast expanse. I, too, have come here from worlds away. I seek power and dominion over every world that is. I believe you can assist me greatly."  
The Joker's face fell into an expression of scorn; "Oh, goody. You're not even the FUN kind of insane. Whatever you're selling, I'm not buying."

"Think not of what you stand to gain," Maleficent advised, "but of what may become of you should you refuse."

"Try me," Joker dared.

Maleficent gripped her staff with both hands, raising it to the skies. "METEORS OF HEAVEN!" she cried. "UNLEASH THY FURY!"

The skies tore apart, and brilliant blue spheres of energy, each about the size of a car, rained down upon the street, shaking the ground as they impacted. Vehicles were crushed into twisted messes of metal and plastic. The asphalt was torn up into shards. The sides of buildings were grazed, sending down a shower of glass shards. One meteor landed quite close to Joker, causing him to leap to safety, hitting the ground on all fours. As the block was ravaged, Maleficent simply stood calmly in the midst of the destruction, watching Joker. He looked sheepishly back to her, now with a much better idea of what he was dealing with.

Once the meteors had subsided, Joker wrenched himself to his feet. "I don't suppose you'll be taking 'no' for an answer, then."

"You already understand our alliance quite well," Maleficent replied.

"All right, all right. What's in the fine print? What do you want me to do?"  
"First, impress me," Maleficent commanded. "I shall provide you with whatever you wish, so long as you use it to make an impact here in Gotham. If the results please me, I shall welcome you into my fold, and you shall become accustomed to sweeter tastes than the victory that comes of swiping paltry precious stones out of ill-guarded shops. Fail me, and I will acquaint you with more pain than you have ever inflicted upon any of your hapless victims."

"Anything I want, you say?" Joker reiterated. "One moment." He retreated into the alley, returning with Luthor's cannon. "You have better toys than this?"  
"Much better indeed," Maleficent confirmed.

She knew he was going to fire the cannon upon her well in advance. The blast was deflected by a very simple magical shield. "You will only get away with that once," she warned.

"Fair's fair," Joker relented. "But for real: if I can have anything I want, the first thing I'm going to need is something you probably can't get me…though I have a few ideas where I can pick one up."

"Of what do you speak?"  
He grinned widely. "A Harley."

...

Not too far away, three caped figures – one tall, two slightly shorter – stood atop a skyscraper's summit, looking down upon the city's largest art museum.

"Seriously," Batgirl asked, "how many times are we going to have to stop somebody from trying to steal out of this incredibly specific museum?"  
"Gotham's rarest artwork is housed in this facility," the Batman answered her, surveying the building through a set of technologically amplified binoculars. "You couldn't even buy the contents if you had three banks' worth of money."

"Got any idea whose MO this is?" Robin asked. "Penguin leave behind another one of his penguin-shaped bombs?"  
"How big of an ego do you have to even have for that?" Batgirl shook her head.

"No, lemme guess again," Robin tried. "Bane busted through the wall. Or Mr. Freeze iced it over and smashed it."

"That's the thing." Batman lowered the binoculars. "There's no sign of a break-in at all. If the alarm hadn't registered on the Batwave, I wouldn't even think there was anyone in there."

"False alarm?" Batgirl wondered out loud.

"No," Batman answered, fishing for another gadget within his belt. "There are exactly two criminals we have profiled who have the ability to get into and out of high-security buildings unnoticed, and Basil Karlo wouldn't do this without showing off for the camera. That leaves…"

"Aw, maaaaan," Batgirl groaned. "Not THAT guy."

Robin folded his arms around his head as best he could in jest. "Look at me! I'm Ragdoll! I'm so TWISTED! You're tying me up in KNOTS! Contortionist puns, I'm so hilarious!"

Batgirl snorted. "Yup. That's him, all right."

"Which is why I'm calling for backup," Batman concluded, retrieving a communicator.

"Wait, what?" Batgirl shook her head slightly. "You're calling backup. On RAGDOLL?"

"Think about it," Batman reminded them. "When have we actually caught Ragdoll in the act of stealing things?"

"When he tries to steal from you directly, and you see him because he's an idiot," Robin volunteered.

"When he teams up with other idiots and they get in each other's way," Batgirl added.

Batman nodded. "As much as I hate to admit it, Ragdoll is one of the slipperiest thieves out there. Almost every time we've caught him is because someone else set off an alarm. He doesn't set off alarms, and I know he knows this museum's security system like the back of his hand. Which leads me to one question: why did an alarm get triggered?"

"Because he's actually not alone, and somebody else screwed up?" Batgirl suggested.

"I buy that he's not alone," Batman agreed, "but he went to lengths to make it look like he is. That alarm went off because he wanted it to. He tripped it on purpose, and I'm guessing it was to bring us here. And that's why I'm calling for backup."

"Like we can't handle whoever's in there," Robin boasted. "We've kicked the butt of every baddie in Gotham ten times over!"

"Still," Batman grumbled, "it wouldn't hurt."

He clicked down the speaker button on the communicator. "You there?" he asked.

There was a moment of silence, and he wondered if perhaps his attempt to reach out had gone unheard. Then the reply: "Batman? Haven't heard your voice in a while."

"Same," Batman confessed. "Though I'm guessing you've been getting along fine on your own."  
"Same to you. Though the fact that you called me suggests maybe you're not doing so hot tonight."

"There's something off about the break-in at the Romano Museum," Batman explained. "I have a feeling we're being set up."

"Say no more. You want cover? I'll get you cover."

"I can take care of the heavy lifting."

"What, you think it's too dangerous for me in there?"  
"If this really is a trap designed for the Batman, it's definitely more than one detective can handle."

"I'm a big girl, Batman. You just focus on doing what you do best, and I'll focus on doing what I do best."

"Sounds like a plan."

As Batman pocketed the communicator, Batgirl groaned, "She's not gonna bring my dad into this, is she?"  
"I'd stay out of sight if I were you," Batman replied.

"That means yes," Batgirl sighed.

It only took a moment for the Batman, Batgirl, and Robin to find themselves inside the museum, wandering the spacious and empty halls, Batman shining a flashlight ahead..

"Place looks deserted," Robin observed. "Are we SURE there's someone in here?"  
"Knowing Raggedy, he's probably hiding inside of a vase or a coffee mug or something," Batgirl commented.

"Be on your guard," Batman cautioned.

They turned the corner into a wide exhibition floor studded with sculptures, its ceiling vaulted. The flashlight cast gnarled shadows that spread out from each piece of three-dimensional modern art.

"Creepy," Robin remarked.

"You scared of the dark?" Batgirl teased.

"NO!" Robin said defensively. "I just mean it's creepy…aesthetically!"

"You don't even know what that word means."

The trio proceeded. They got as far as the center of the exhibition floor before the shot rang out, a rush of heat blasting right past. Batman spun, spreading his arms, putting his body between the hot energy and the two children.

Footsteps clicked, echoing against the walls as Roman Torchwick walked into view. "Now, really, that's just adorable," he remarked, Cudgel still aimed at Batman. "Nearly blowing yourself up to protect the – "

Batman moved just enough that Roman got a good look at Batgirl and Robin. "KIDS?" Roman finished, staring in awe at first before breaking into laughter. "You brought KIDS to come fight us?"

"Careful, Torchwick." Snatcher approached from the opposite end of the room, drawing his own chained weapon. "Children do seem to be the undoing of the both of us, more often than not."

"Don't REMIND me," Roman groaned.

"Torchwick?" Robin repeated. "That's a new one."

Batman wasn't sure which villain to face down first. He chose Roman only by virtue of Roman having spoken first. "Who are you? What do you want?"  
"Do you seriously expect every bad guy you face down to answer those questions?" Roman replied. "Okay, I'll throw you a bone. Name's Roman Torchwick, and I want…oh, let's see here…everything in this museum. Is that going to be a problem? I feel like that's going to be a problem."

"And what about Mr. Creepy-Face over here?" Batgirl asked, glowering at Snatcher. "What's his deal?"  
"How rude!" Snatcher remarked coyly. "Haven't your parents ever taught you to RESPECT your elders? You can refer to me by my PROPER name: Archibald Snatcher."

"Okay, that is NOT your real name," Robin laughed.

"If you're going to call anyone a creepy-face," a third voice cut in, "it should be me!" Mim let her glamour of invisibility fall, revealing herself in the center of the room. "The magnificent, MARVELOUS Mad Madam Mim!"

"Well, these are definitely some new faces," Batgirl remarked.

"Think we should show 'em what we're made of?" Robin asked.

"Actually, I was sort of thinking this would be the other way around," Roman commented. "WE show YOU what WE'RE made of. How's that sound?"

"Don't do anything you'll regret," Batman warned. "You still have time to stand down."

"Did you hear that, Torchwick?" Snatcher laughed. "He thinks he can simply ASK us to stand down!"

"Idea," Roman replied. "You and I give the kids the punishment we never got to give our own pains in the ass back home. If Batbrain is as good as Ragsy…" He paused. "Wait. No. Raggy…Dollface…Bendy…Petey…" He snapped his fingers. "MISTER TWISTER. That's it. If Batbrain is as good as Mister Twister said, he should just barely pass as a durable enough toy for Mim."

"Sounds good to me!" Mim laughed.

"But really," Roman concluded, "let's just shut up and get to the good part." He clicked the trigger of the Cudgel, pointing it directly at Robin's head.

Snatcher aimed his own weapon at Batgirl's stomach. He and Roman fired in unison, causing Batman, Batgirl, and Robin to scatter, each leaping to safety in a different direction.

"Hmm, what oh what shall it be today?" Mim mused. "Well, I'm fighting a giant bat, so a giant hawk only seems appropriate, don't you think?" She spread out her arms, morphing into the shape of an immense bird with needle-sharp talons and a hooked beak. She flapped her wings once, twice in order to gain some height in the air, then dove at the Batman. Batman was faster, leaping out of her way and causing her to collide with a priceless sculpture, shattering it on the ground.

Roman approached Robin, Cudgel outstretched. "The thing about annoying little kids like you is that you're drawn to trying to kick my ass like moths to a flame. It's like you really don't think I can handle picking on someone my own size. I'm starting to resent that."

"Don't take it personally," Robin replied, though he had no idea what other kid Roman could have been referring to. "Me against most people isn't a fair fight for them."

"Y'know what? Shut up." Roman aimed and fired the Cudgel. Robin cartwheeled to safety before withdrawing an extendable pole that he stretched out into a full-length weapon; the Cudgel's blast broke down another sculpture. Robin ran toward Roman, spinning the pole; Roman countered it with the shaft of the Cudgel. Robin and Roman's weapons clashed again and again, each waiting for the other to make the mistake that would do him in, but both were experts at parrying.

"What about you?" Batgirl asked, turning toward Snatcher. "You gonna try and bring us down too? No offense, but you don't look like much of a fighter."

Snatcher noticed the fringe of red hair extending from Batgirl's cowl. "It always was the plucky young redheads," he grunted.

"Something wrong with redheads?" Roman called from across the room as he continued to hold off Robin's attacks.

"You and Miss Wuya are, frankly, the only ones I can stand!" Snatcher replied, firing his gun at Batgirl. Given the course of events so far, he fully expected her to be able to dodge it, and she did. He then launched the mallet; she sidestepped it before grabbing onto the chain. Snatcher was utterly stunned at her strength as she jerked the chain toward herself, lifting a leg and planting a foot hard in Snatcher's stomach. Snatcher went reeling backward, hitting the floor.

Batgirl stomped on his chest to keep him down; "Not so tough now, are you?"  
The floor behind her exploded, sending her flying. Roman had managed to break out of the onslaught from Robin long enough to get a shot in at her, and it hit exactly where he wanted it to. Batgirl's body was propelled forth into another sculpture, cracking it.

"LEAVE HER ALONE!" Robin barked, drawing two small projectiles from his belt and launching them. Roman caught both on the shaft of the Cudgel.

"Did you REALLY think I wouldn't be prepared for throwing stars?" Roman sighed, plucking the fallen weapons and chucking them right back at their owner, who performed a handspring out of the way.

Mim sped toward Batman yet again; he sidestepped, letting her collide with the wall. She responded by changing form again as she spun back around to face him, now a thickset rhinoceros with a sharp horn. She charged again; Batman leapt over top of her, running across her back to leap to safety behind. He was only surprised momentarily by her shapeshifting abilities; he figured that she must have been some variant of Martian. Therefore, it was safe to assume, he thought, that she could read his mind as well. She remained in front of him, shifting into the shape of a horse and kicking outward hard with her rear legs; Batman ducked to avoid the flying hooves, crawling under Mim's stomach and readying a taser. When the gadget collided with Mim's skin, sending en electric current throughout her whole body, she seized up…with laughter. "Heeheeheeheehee! That tickles!"

Batman rolled out from beneath Mim, who was in the process of remolding her shape yet again. "I'm guessing you already know what I'm thinking," he told her. "Though you're making it obvious. You and your associates are destroying too much of the art in this building. It's not actually what you came for, is it?"

"Nope!" Mim laughed, solidifying into the shape of a kangaroo.

"What ARE you here for?" Batman asked, though he knew the chances of getting an actual answer were slim. He ducked, but not quite quickly enough; Mim seized him by the shoulders, pulled him upright, and planted both feet hard into his stomach, sending him to the ground with a grunt and what would become a very colorful bruise.

"You'll have to find THAT out the hard way!" Mim laughed.

Batman balled up a fist, swinging at her face; she leapt into the air, becoming an average-sized falcon, and arced back out of danger's way. "Torchwick mentioned Ragdoll," Batman continued. "I know he's the one that broke you into this building. Where is he?"

"THAT, I can tell you," Mim answered, landing on the floor as a leopard and preparing to leap. "He's waiting for the rest of the party to show up!"

"The rest of the – "

Batman found himself pinned beneath Mim, twisting his head this way and that to avoid her swiping claws. He kneed her in the stomach, distracting her just long enough to roll away and tossing an ice pellet at her as he evaded.

Mim attempted to run after him, only to find her feet frozen to the ground. "Oh, fiddlesticks!" She morphed into a massive elephant, shattering the ice that held her.

As Roman and Robin remained locked in battle, Snatcher found Batgirl was more than a match for him. "So you don't like redheads, huh?" she asked as she flipped away from one of his lightning blasts. "I'm beginning to get a bad taste in my mouth about guys in red hats." She decked him in the face, and he could feel a trickle of blood running down his nose. He bit back a growl of pain; the last thing he needed was for Roman to get distracted by him and lose his fight.

Mim, however, could spare a moment to avenge a friend; her trunk curled around Batgirl's upper body, lifting the young woman up. "HEY!" Batgirl yelled, squirming; she tried reaching for her belt, but her arms were pinned to her sides. "Put me DOWN!"

"Oh, you want to be put down?" Mim jeered. "Then I'll put you down!" She raised Batgirl up ever higher, and Batman knew what she was about to do.

A pair of batarangs flew at Mim's trunk. Mim had been about to slam Batgirl down onto the floor, perhaps hard enough to break bone, but the sting caused her to drop the purple-caped sidekick; Batman rushed forth and caught her, then rolling to bring both of them out of the way.

"Thanks," Batgirl said breathlessly. "I owe you one."

"I'm not keeping track," Batman reminded her.

Snatcher turned to Mim; "I believe I owe you for that one."

"You sure do," Mim affirmed.

Batman took a moment to wonder if his plan to call for backup had gone somehow wrong. If he interpreted Mim correctly, there had been a contingency plan for exactly that.

And he was right.

The police car pulled up silently outside the museum. "Remember," its front seat passenger, one Detective Ellen Yin, cautioned, "the Batman was sure this was some kind of trap. And if it was a trap meant for him, we have to be careful."

"If you'd've asked me a couple years ago if I ever thought I'd see you working directly with the Batman," the back seat passenger, a newly instated officer Ethan Bennett, commented, "I would've thought you were playing some kind of joke on me."

"And I would have thought the same thing if someone had told me I'd have the former Clayface working in my inner circle," the driver, Commissioner James Gordon, added. "I think we all just need to accept the fact that help comes from where we least expect it."

They disembarked the car, guns drawn as they approached the entrance to the Romano Museum. "Be ready for anything," Gordon warned.

"I already am," Yin replied, though she unfortunately failed to notice the sewer grate dislodging behind her and the thin figure silently springing up from it. Likewise, all three officers completely missed the flitting of movement across the roof of the building as another warrior lay in wait.

"SURPRISE!" Ragdoll yelled as he leapt upon Yin from behind, wrapping his legs aroud her waist and his arms around her neck, squeezing tight to choke her. Yin twisted the hand holding the gun around to aim at him, but he ripped it away from her in one fluid motion. "Didn't your parents ever warn you not to play with guns? They're NOT toys, you know!"

"YIN!" Bennett spun and turned his own gun on Ragdoll; Yin's struggling shook them both so that they moved in and out of Bennett's line of fire, and he hesitated, not wanting to shoot his partner.

That was long enough for Firefly to launch himself from the roof, aiming twin jets of heat from his gauntlets at Bennett and Gordon with a cry of "LET'S HEAT THIS BABY UP!"

Gordon and Bennett dove in opposite directions, rolling across the asphalt. "Decisions, decisions," Firefly mused as he looked to each of them. "Y'know what? I think I'm gonna start out by putting Clayface through the kiln." He raised a gauntlet, aiming it at Bennett.

Gordon and Bennett both drew; Bennett was faster, and his bullet grazed Firefly's gauntlet. "You missed," Firefly taunted.

"Did I?" Bennett replied, noticing the steady stream of gasoline dripping from Firefly's wrist.

"I really hate when people do that," Firefly replied, raising his other arm – only for that fuel line to be shot out by Gordon. "Stop DOING THAT!" Firefly yelled in rage. "Okay, fine. We'll do this the old-fashioned way." He rushed Bennett, throwing just enough of a curve into his path that Bennett knew shooting would result in a miss. Firefly caught and twisted Bennnett's gun arm enough to get him to drop the weapon, then kicked the gun across the street while putting Bennett into a headlock. Bennett, however, was strong; a few movements and the position was reversed, with Bennett holding Firefly at bay.

While the two continued back and forth, Yin slammed Ragdoll's body against the side of the police car to try and get him to loosen his grip. When it didn't work, she repeated the process twice; Ragdoll became rather dazed from the repeated blows, and Yin found she could pry his arms off of her neck, gasping in much-needed air. She ripped his body off of hers, spinning him around and holding him at arm's length. He flinched, expecting her to punch him in the face. Instead, she aimed a sharp kick at his groin.

That just elicited a laugh from Ragdoll. "To your credit," he informed Yin, "that would have worked on just about any other man." He broke her grip, slithering beneath her to yank at her ankles and send her off balance. She broke her fall with her hands against the asphalt, quickly spinning her legs into a kick outward at Ragdoll. He backflipped, then pirouetted, then leapt on top of the police car in a dramatic arabesque. "Well?" he taunted. "Come and get me!"

When Firefly had rushed Bennett, Gordon had been about to shoot. However, he soon found himself tied up with the last threat that had been put in place as a backup defense. The flying white bomb – which he couldn't quite believe was actually shaped like a skull – registered in his peripheral vision just enough for him to get out of the way. Regaining his bearings, Gordon aimed his firearm up at the steps of the museum, which Aghoul was descending slowly and dramatically.

"I couldn't just let THEM have the time of their afterlives without crashing the dead man's party!" Aghoul remarked, another skull appearing in his left hand while his scythe materialized in his right.

"Who…ARE you?" Gordon asked in awe. "Some kind of…Grim Reaper knockoff?"  
"Knockoff?" Aghoul repeated. "I was hoping to fill in for the real thing!" He chucked the next skull at Gordon as hard as he could, another taking its place in Aghoul's hand. Gordon evaded once, twice, thrice. At least Aghoul, much unlike Firefly and Ragdoll, wasn't a moving target, and wasn't tangled up with someone Gordon didn't want to put at risk. Faced with no choice and a hail of bombs, Gordon fired directly at Aghoul.

When the bullet hit, Aghoul flinched, confused. He then realized he'd been shot in the stomach, and the bullet had gone all the way through him to the other side. He turned around, dropping his bomb to pick up the bullet. "You call this a weapon?" he remarked, rolling the small piece of ammunition in the palm of his hand.

"How…" Gordon gasped as he took in the sight of Aghoul moving without reacting to any pain, without dripping any blood. Overcome with panic, he fired again.

This time, Aghoul had to fish the bullet out of his chest. "This is starting to get annoying," Aghoul growled. Deciding he was done playing games, he charged at Gordon, scythe raised, and not a single bullet could slow him down. Gordon turned tail and ran just as Aghoul slammed the scythe blade down into where he'd been standing.

Back inside the museum, Snatcher took advantage of his newfound freedom to assist Roman, shooting directly at Robin. Robin saw the bolt of lightning flying just in time, flipping back out of harm's way. When he came to rest, he faced down the barrels of both Roman and Snatcher's weapons.

"ROBIN!" Batman and Batgirl both rushed him, only for Mim, now a snarling bear, to throw herself in front of them. Batgirl loosed two sharp-edged projectiles; Mim caught one in her mouth and the other below a paw. She crunched the metal into scraps between her jaws, twisting the other beneath a foot with just the slightest bit of magic sparking up to assist in the blade's destruction.

"What now?" Mim asked, letting the projectile fall from her lips. "Can't use your lightning on me. Can't use your ice on me. Can't use ANYTHING on me!"

Gritting his teeth, Batman darted sharply to the left, and Batgirl to the right. Mim spun in a circle as she transformed, remarking, "I've just realized we never set any rules! That means this move doesn't break ANY of them! What a waste!"

Batgirl was first rammed by the hard horns of a goat; she then cried out in pain as her forearm was seized in the sharp jaws of a lion's head biting down. Batman was wrapped up in a thick coil of flesh, a snake's head hovering dangerously close to him with fangs bared. "A chimera," Batman grunted.

Mim had indeed taken on a three-headed form, with lion and goat at one end and snake at another. "You sure know your animals!" the goat and snake head laughed in unison as the lion kept a hold on Batgirl. "I wouldn't move if I were you. Chimeras' snake heads are filled with the NASTIEST venom."

"I'll take my chances," Batman said as he reached for his belt – and hesitated. What exactly would make an actual impact upon Mim?

All this gave Roman enough time to fire at Robin one more time. Robin evaded as usual, but this put him in Snatcher's path, and the mallet connected hard with his head. The young boy collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

Batman jammed a batarang's blade right into Mim's scaly skin, and she shrieked with all three heads, letting go of Batgirl. Batgirl slumped to her knees at first, tears welled up in her eyes as blood dripped from her arm. Batman looked from her to Robin and back, knowing what he had to do. First he rushed to Batgirl's uninjured side, standing her up. Then he propelled her forth so both could grab Robin.

"Starting to see the big picture yet?" Roman asked as his and Snatcher's weapons both turned on Batman, whose hands were now full with his two charges. "You sure did call it on us wanting you to come here."

"So you could kill us?" Batman growled.

"No," Roman said with a smirk. "Roman Torchwick. Archibald Snatcher. Mad Madam Mim. And even though they're not here…Ayam Aghoul. I shouldn't have to remind you about Firefly and Ragdoll."

"What are you talking about?"

"Our names," Roman emphasized. "We made sure Gotham's premier protector, possibly backed up by the local police force, would come down here to try and stop us. You would learn our faces, and, more importantly, you would learn our names. Now you can take this as a warning and you can go tell everyone our names and why we shouldn't be messed with."

"This was a publicity stunt," Batman grunted.

"That was only half the goal," Snatcher admitted. "We did actually desire the museum. The contents inside of it were more of a bonus. But now, we have a base of operations."

Batman gritted his teeth. "You'll never – "

Mim, in the form of an elephant once more, scooped him, Robin, and Batgirl all up in one roll of her trunk. "This game is starting to get boring."

"Take out the trash," Roman ordered.

Outside, as Yin tried to throw blow after blow at Ragdoll only for him to dance sprightly out of her way, he observed, "You actually are quite a doll, aren't you?"

"Stop flirting with the enemy, R.D.!" Firefly barked as he wrestled with Bennett.

"Me? Flirting?" Ragdoll replied as he balanced on his hands, sideswiping Yin with both legs. "You're the one who can't keep your hands off the ex-Clayface."

"Okay, point," Firefly admitted.

Aghoul had managed to chase Gordon to the point of knocking him down, holding his scythe high. Gordon was out of ammunition, having wasted it all trying to gun down a corpse, and flinched, putting his arm across his face to block his view. Aghoul brought down the scythe, planting it in the asphalt over Gordon's shoulder. "Show's over!" he proclaimed.

"Show's…over?" Gordon repeated.

"But first…" Identical skulls appeared in Aghoul's hands, and Gordon thought perhaps this was how Aghoul meant to deal the final blow. As he cried "BOMBS AWAY!", Firefly recognized the signal, abandoning Bennett to speed toward Ragdoll, pick him up, and carry him back toward the safety of the museum steps. Aghoul let both bombs fly: one at Bennett, one at Yin.

"NO!" Gordon yelled.

The bombs impacted just adjacently to both officers. As the six villains had agreed, the blows were nonfatal; they wanted as many witnesses as possible to be able to talk to Gotham about the influence of Roman Torchwick. However, the blasts did send both Ethan and Yin toppling to hit the asphalt hard, bruising and scraping.

Aghoul snapped his fingers; he'd gotten Gordon a good distance away from the museum steps, and in a glimmer of light, he teleported back to the stairs, where Firefly and Ragdoll were waiting for him. At the same time, the doors to the museum were flung open, and Batman, Batgirl, and Robin were tossed out at a high speed, landing on the pavement some distance away. Mim, now human again, marched out onto the steps to survey the damage done, nodding at the impacts left by the exploding skulls. "I do so love it when you're nasty," she told Aghoul, pulling him into a fierce and rough kiss that was almost enough to start his dead heart beating again.

Snatcher followed, and Roman took his place at the head of the crowd. "Remember, that's ROMAN TORCHWICK!" he yelled at the six downed heroes, who were starting to peel themselves up into standing positions. "Now let's put the finishing touch on this baby. Mim?"

Mim let Aghoul go, clapping her hands twice. A glowing ring of light appeared on the ground, encircling the museum, with Batman, Batgirl, Robin, Gordon, Yin, and Bennett on the outside. "Light 'em up, Firefly!" Mim commanded.

"Can't," Firefly grunted. "Both my fuel lines are shot."

"Well, that's anticlimactic," Ragdoll remarked.

Mim flicked her wrist toward Firefly; a burst of sparks surrounded his gauntlets, repairing the broken lines. "Not anymore, they're not!"

Firefly turned his wrists over, surveying Mim's work. "I could get used to this whole 'magic' thing," he commented. "Anyway, you know what they say. If you can't stand the heat…"

He blasted the glowing ring, which burst into a wall of steadily climbing flame that surrounded the museum, cutting it off from the rest of the city.

"Call for backup," Yin grunted. "If we get a helicopter force to come in from above – "

To accompany that, Batman's mind had turned to several flying vehicles in his possession he could utilize. However, the villains had planned for that. The fire climbed steadily until it was taller than the museum, then simply bent, connecting over top of it as a dome.

"Fire shouldn't do that," Bennett observed.

"They have to be using some kind of convection energy to…" Batman faltered. He didn't have a rational explanation for how a dome of fire could be created and maintained in its shape without collapsing on the museum within.

"Roman Torchwick," Gordon repeated. "That's a new name."

"And not one they're going to let us forget anytime soon," Yin added.

Inside the dome, Roman laughed. "Well, friends, welcome to our new stomping ground," he announced. "No one gets in or out unless we want them to. This is the center point for every crime we commit from here on out."

"Wonder how Penguin and Riddler like THESE apples," Firefly added.

"Not bad, for the new guy in town," Ragdoll told Roman, clapping him on the shoulder.

Roman shook his head. "I don't care where Mozenrath went or what he's doing right now. He can't POSSIBLY be doing anything more awesome than what we just pulled off."

...

The sun crested high over the ruins of the Ivory Tower. Since the great battle between Atreyu's rebels and Bastian Balthazar Bux's imperium, the residents of the Tower had been slowly rebuilding their homes and civilization in the metropolis-sized behemoth that was the Tower, every day wondering whether or not the Empress would return to her pavilion at its very summit. The once cheerful, bustling city had become a dreary and somber place due to this fact. Days were spent dedicated to rebuilding and awaiting, and little else.

It was an utter anomaly when the sound of joyous and regal music pierced the atmosphere of the tower. The builders abandoned their posts to get a better look at the procession that was creeping through the streets on the lower levels and making its way gradually upward.

It began with a band of Amarganthians playing a variety of musical instruments, most of which were unique to Fantastica and have never been found on any other world. Behind them came a league of dancers, leaping and twirling to the beat, sometimes in sync and sometimes each moving at their own pace but still somehow becoming a coordinated whole.

Beings of all sorts marched in line, proclaiming a single word in unison as they stormed down the streets of the Tower. It took observers a few listens to realize that the word, one they had never heard before, was "MOZENRATH!" Over and over they chanted his name, heralding his arrival.

They came in rags and in robes, in all shapes, sizes, and colors. Mozenrath, with Xayide to act as his silver tongue, had amassed quite the entourage, all of them willing to vouch for his filling in as the savior in the absence of Bastian. And most striking among the crowd was the contingent from the Land of Ghosts: the fearsome creatures known to lurk in shadows, now walking in broad daylight alongside their peers. It was a sight the denizens of the Tower had not seen before.

At the end of the procession came the personages of honor. Xayide had outfitted herself, Yzma, and the Huntsman with more elaborate clothing, though at the Huntsman's request, he still maintained his dragon-skull helmet, shielding his face from view. They went on foot before a piecemeal creature carved from Xayide's suits of armor; the beetle-like beings had, at Xayide's call, dismantled and remantled into a shape much larger than one simple suit: an enormous black metal beast with six limbs and a crudely wrought black iron throne upon its back. And borne upon this beast, nestled in the throne in a confident pose with one leg crossed over the other, was Mozenrath himself, decked out in a longer bejeweled cape that draped off the chair and spilled out across the iron beast's back.

At first, the Tower's residents merely watched as Mozenrath's parade ascended the white roads. They then realized that the entire spectacle had to be headed somewhere, and their destination was quite obviously the tower's summit and the Empress' pavilion. The Tower's citizens jumped into the fray, mingling with the parade, standing in a living wall in front of the iron vehicle to halt its progress.

As the iron carriage ceased its forward trundling and Xayide, Yzma, and the Huntsman stopped in their own tracks, Mozenrath glowered down at the people. "Is there a problem?" he asked.

"Who do you think you are?" one of them called back up at him. "Are you trying to replace the Empress?"  
"In case you haven't noticed," Mozenrath informed the civilian, "the Empress isn't there to replace. I can't replace someone who's not there, now, can I?" He gave a dramatic shrug. "I just intend to fill an empty throne." He stood, waving his right hand so that a steep ramp of blue energy forged itself leading from the back of the iron vehicle down to the glittering white street. He then jumped onto the ramp, sliding down it to land with only a slight stumble before straightening up and brushing himself off; it took his new cape a few moments to settle behind him.

"YOU?" another cried out. "YOU intend to be our emperor?"

"That I do!" Mozenrath affirmed. "Oh, like we don't all know how much disrepair Fantastica is falling into without an emperor. I've heard all about your miserable little lives here waiting for the Empress to come back. Well, what if she never does come back? SOMEONE needs to rule this world, don't they?"  
"And why should that be YOU?" another called out.

"Because I have plans for this world," Mozenrath insisted. "Plans to make it my very own – "  
"Project to fix," Xayide broke in, stepping in front of Mozenrath. "To give each and every one of you exactly what you deserve! What you NEED! What you have gone without since the Empress' disappearance! The Ivory Tower shall be rebuilt, and your salvation shall be at its center!"

She and Mozenrath looked to each other. Mozenrath's glare very strongly emphasized that he would have liked to be allowed to speak to his public. Xayide's returned gaze very clearly informed him that she knew he was just going to talk about dominating Fantastica for his own self, and last time he tried to speak for himself, they ended up in a city-wide brawl. Nothing Mozenrath could say with his eyes could argue that point.

"All of these…er, creatures…have already joined Mozenrath to crusade for his ascension to the throne!" Yzma added. "Could ALL OF THEM be wrong?"  
That point caused the Tower residents to talk amongst themselves, discussing the point. Surely that many people couldn't be wrong!

"Stand aside," Xayide commanded. "It is your emperor's coronation day, and he cannot be late for his own coronation. There is much work to do, and I suggest you do it."

"Says who?" someone yelled.

"Says Xayide, one of my three imperial advisors," Mozenrath clarified. "The other two will be Yzma and the Huntsman. An affront to any of them will be seen as an affront to me."  
By now, the citizens of the Tower were divided. So many of them had been waiting for the Empress to return, and in her absence, it was good to see someone approaching the throne to take it, especially someone so confident. And hadn't Xayide been advisor to Bastian Balthazar Bux, the savior? So quickly they forgot that Bastian was the reason for the Battle of the Ivory Tower. But others were suspect. Mozenrath had not proven himself on any real field, and for all they knew, he was just a usurper taking advantage of the situation. Those who felt this way retreated into the alleys to plot.

Xayide gave directions to the Tower citizens, and soon, the entire Ivory Tower was redecorated to welcome Mozenrath as its figurehead. Black and blue streamers draped from every rooftop and across every street. Confetti in the same colors was thrown wherever the procession walked. Up above, near the pavilion, architects were hard at work creating the new throne, and the peacock-shaped chair awaited Mozenrath by the time the procession reached the apex. It sat exactly where Bastian's throne of mirrors had once rested.

Mozenrath, Xayide, the Huntsman, and Yzma approached the throne, surveying it. "You could not have provided something in the actual pavilion?" Xayide asked with derision.

"The way to the pavilion opens of its own accord," the architect explained meekly. "It would not open for us."

"We'll see about that." Mozenrath turned to see a pathway leading directly into a white wall. "I'm guessing it's…that way." He threw a bolt of magic at the wall; it was absorbed.

"I wouldn't…" Xayide said hushedly.

Mozenrath charged up a bigger, more powerful blast, launching it. This one bounced off the wall, flying right back at Mozenrath. He stepped just out of the way; his lengthy cape took the brunt of it, catching on bright blue fire. Quickly, embarrassedly, Mozenrath cast a rain of ice on the flames to douse them; his cape was left several feet shorter than it had been.

He heard giggles, and he rounded on the crowd that watched him. "YOU THINK I'M SOMETHING TO LAUGH AT?" he roared, drawing back his right hand.

Xayide gently lay her fingers on his wrist. "Not yet," she whispered to him. "Later, when they trust you, you can let your true colors show. But not yet."

He lowered the hand. "My apologies," he stated, attempting to brush the incident off. "Carry on."

"After all, we still need a coronation feast!" Yzma insisted. "I want cakes and pies of every kind! I want the finest roasted meat! I…" Her eyes widened. "…have just realized Archibald Snatcher isn't here. I WANT CHEESE ON EVERYTHING!"

Mozenrath sat back in his throne, watching as the people scurried to make preparations for the coronation. "I could get used to this," he remarked.

"You know, the rest of us could use chairs, too," Yzma grumbled.

"I, for one, am fine standing," the Huntsman insisted.

"You'll get chairs," Mozenrath promised. "Like Xayide said. Give them time for us to earn their trust, and then we can take anything and everything we want from them."

A messenger rushed toward the throne; "My lord! A band of rebels has formed in the lower levels of the tower! They claim you are a false savior! They come armed with weapons of all sorts so that they may kill you before you ascend to power! What should we – "

At that moment, Gaya strode in, interrupting: "Lord Mozenrath. I hear there is a slight…disturbance gathering below. Would you like me and my army to take care of it for you?"

"As a matter of fact, I would," Mozenrath told Gaya.

Gaya nodded. "Then it will be done." She turned and stalked from the area.

Mozenrath, Yzma, the Huntsman, and Xayide rushed to a balcony to peer over at the scene down below. A fairly sized resistance had already gathered, bearing swords, shields, spears, and even pitchforks. "I've been here for half an hour and I already have a coup d'etat after my head," Mozenrath sighed. "I'm going to take this as a sign that I'm doing something right."

"The monsters are mobilizing as well," the Huntsman observed; the creatures from the Land of Ghosts came with their own weapons, sharp and oddly angled blades, to counter the rebels. The battle was short, and the white streets of the Tower were soon stained with blood, though there had not been a single casualty on the side of the army of the Land of Ghosts. All those who had wished to assassinate Mozenrath lay dead.

"And you didn't even have to lift a finger," Xayide observed.

"I could REALLY get used to this!" Mozenrath proclaimed with a broad smile.

...

Aladdin, Jasmine, Sadira, Genie, the Sultan, Ruby, Stork, Papyrus, Kairi, Jaune, Nora, Ren, Nick, Madison, Vida, Chip, Xander, Luna, and Cadance stood in silence in the courtyard for a moment, trying to think of how best to go about their invasion of the Black Sands. Their collective train of thought was interrupted by the arrival of Sora, Riku, and Mog charging in at full speed, holding sizeable bundles under their arms as Sora yelled "SURPRIIIIIIISE!"

"SORA!" everyone yelled. "RIKU!"

"And Mog, too!" Sora insisted with a grin.

"We didn't know you'd be coming here!" Kairi said happily.

"The weapons got finished up ahead of schedule," Riku announced. "Take a look."

The bundles were unwrapped, and the new weapons spread out. "Is this…mine?" Kairi asked as she approached her new sword, picking it up and giving it a couple experimental swings.

"You bet it is!" Sora confirmed. "And…this one's for Jaune." He held out the new Crocea Mors, now adorned with Pyrrha's headband.

Jaune took the sword and shield into hand reverently. "Thanks," he said softly.

"Hmm…" Xander picked up and swung his new axe. "Different from a staff, but I could get used to this."

Nora swung the rebuilt Magnhild round and round. "Works like a dream, baby!"

"So this means you've definitely given up on the shuriken?" Yuffie teased.

"Who needs shuriken when you've got this powerhouse?" Nora replied, holding Magnhild out. "Wanna give it a shot?"  
Yuffie took the hammer in hand and immediately stumbled from its weight. "Wha – how strong ARE you?"

"Well, I CAN bench five of me," Nora bragged.

"Hey, look." Vida picked up her own sword, handing over Madison's as well. "We match."

"We're sword sisters," Madison observed. "Though…" She gave a glance over to Nick, who held up a similar sword adorned with red. "Does this make Nick our brother, too?"  
"I think my family life's complicated enough," Nick replied.

Ren simply took Stormflower into hand, weighed it, and smiled in satisfaction before holstering it.

"THIS IS GREAT!" Papyrus cheered. "NOW THAT EVERYONE HAS A WEAPON, WE CAN MAKE A BETTER PLAN FOR THE BLACK SANDS!"  
"What's the Black Sands?" Sora asked.

"Where Mozenrath used to live," Kairi explained.

"But now, it's apparently Maleficent's territory," Aladdin interrupted, stepping forward with a grin. "By the way, were you just going to run in here without saying hello to the rest of us?"

"Long time no see, Aladdin!" Sora laughed. "Good to see you too, Jasmine! Genie!"

"And it's as good to see you as ever," Jasmine replied. "Riku, too."

Riku just nodded, pleased to have been mentioned.

"Welcome home, boys!" Genie greeted in a high-pitched voice. "We've had a pie hot in the oven waiting for you!" He produced from thin air a steamingly warm apple pie, which Sora took with a laugh.

"You seem to be doing fine here, kupo!" Mog announced. "And I have work to do, so I'm going to take off! Does anyone need a ride back?"  
"We'll catch a ride with Cid," Riku assured Mog. "Thanks for everything."

"No problem, kupo!" With that, the tiny Moogle was off in a flutter.

Riku turned back to the group. "So why are we planning to invade one of Maleficent's new strongholds?"  
"Even," Kairi answered sternly. "He might still be alive. And if he is, we can't just leave him. He might be here."

"I don't know…" Riku replied, thinking back to how Vexen had tormented him in the halls of Castle Oblivion. Then he shook away the thought. That was in the past; Even was part of the Restoration Committee now, or so he thought. Riku knew he shouldn't let petty grudges stand in the way of wanting to rescue someone who meant so much to Kairi. All the same, something was starting to not quite ring true about the whole affair. Why was Even the hardest prisoner of Maleficent to find? Was there more going on than met the eye?

"Sounds like a plan!" Sora insisted. "We're more than strong enough to take on Maleficent by now!"

"It might not be Maleficent at all," Jasmine clarified. "Razoul reported that Jafar and Hades were running the Black Sands. They talked to Maleficent by magic, but we're not sure that she's actually there."

"Hades and Jafar?" Sora scoffed. "I've beaten those guys a bunch of times! We can take 'em easy!"

"Good," Stork broke in. "That means we can finally get payback. We go to the Black Sands, we get Kairi's friend back, and we make sure those two Maleficent lackeys never bother us again."

"HOW ARE WE GOING TO DO THAT?" Papyrus asked, genuinely confused.

"You know," Stork attempted to clarify. "Take care of them."

"WHY WOULD WE WANT TO TAKE CARE OF THEM? THEY HAVEN'T BEEN VERY NICE TO US."

Stork sighed. He then drew a finger across his neck, making a choking sound.

Papyrus flinched. "YOU MEAN WE…KILL THEM?"

"For all I know, that's what they did to Aerrow, Junko, and Radarr," Stork reminded him. "They need to go DOWN."

"BUT…" Papyrus replied, fretting.

"But WHAT?" Stork hissed.

"BUT IF WE DO THAT, THEN WE NEVER GIVE THEM A CHANCE TO DO ANY BETTER," Papyrus insisted. "WHAT IF THEY CHANGE ONE DAY? IT STILL ISN'T TOO LATE FOR THEM."

"Hades and Jafar won't change," Riku insisted. "We've fought them for too long. We know who they are and what they do."

"ESPECIALLY Jafar," Aladdin emphasized. "I'm not opposed to getting rid of HIM for good. I thought we did that already last time, anyway."  
"BUT…" Papyrus tried to argue. "IT…DOESN'T FEEL…RIGHT."

"DOESN'T FEEL RIGHT?" Jaune snapped, rounding on Papyrus. "These people – or gods or genies or whatever they are – they're murderers! If I ever met the person who killed Pyrrha again, I wouldn't hold back!" His gaze hardened. "And I might never meet the person who killed Pyrrha, so they'll have to do."

"Jaune," Cadance reminded him, "I know how you feel, but they AREN'T the ones who killed Pyrrha. They've done equally terrible things, but they aren't the ones you're angry at."

"I'm GOING to be angry at them!" Jaune insisted. "If we let them keep going like they're going, then one day, they ARE going to destroy something I care about! What if it's Kairi? What if it's Ruby or Ren or Nora?"

"Maybe I shouldn't speak, since I made sure Sombra didn't exist anymore," Cadance brought up. "But I don't know if it's right to kill them either. I've always believed that love was more powerful than hate. Maybe it's time we started acting like we all believed that. Besides, there was a time when everypony in Equestria thought Luna was just as terrible of a monster and wanted her to be gone forever. But because we treated her with harmony instead of hate, we gave her another chance to be Luna again."

"For which I am ever grateful," Luna admitted. "We may lose further to our foes. What we must ask is if we wish to become like them and where we wish to draw our lines."

"Jaune and Stork are right," Riku insisted. "If we let Jafar and Hades go free, they will give us a reason to regret it later."

"I would agree," Jasmine spoke up, "but do we want to make killers out of Cadance and Papyrus if they believe there's a better way?"

"Good point," Sora mused. "I can see where you're all coming from."

"It might not even be something we need to discuss," Aladdin pointed out. "Sure, there are enough of us to give them a good fight. But we know they're tough, and they have the Heartless and Mamluks with them, too. It might be smarter if we do this quietly. Keep our weapons on us in case things go wrong…but see if we can get in and out without being noticed in the first place."

"That does sound like the smarter plan," Riku admitted. "We can take care of our unfinished business with Jafar and Hades later. Right now, this is about Even."

"And it ISN'T about the Condor?" Stork argued. "About Aerrow? About Junko? And what about Finn? Sure, he's okay, but BARELY!"

"Stork," Jasmine said softly, "I'm so sorry about what happened to all of your friends. And we should do whatever we can to make it right. But if it turns out we can't win this fight, getting into it might cause us to lose more people. Like you."

"Maybe that wouldn't be so bad," Stork muttered. "If it was just me, I mean."

"WOULDN'T BE BAD?" Papyrus gasped. "BUT…YOU'RE OUR FRIEND! LOSING YOU WOULD BE TERRIBLE! PLEASE DON'T SAY THINGS LIKE THAT!"

Stork looked at Papyrus to see actual tears pooling in the base of his skull's sockets. "Forget I said that," he said softly. "Jasmine's right. We can't lose anybody else. Sneaking in it is." Though really, he thought, the more time he spent around all of the others, the more he realized it was the rest of them he didn't want to lose. Someone as innocent as Papyrus shouldn't have to be put under that risk.

"We've snuck into the Black Sands before," Jasmine insisted. "We can do it again."

"With this many people?" Nick asked.

"The more, the merrier," Aladdin insisted. "Besides, if there are Heartless running around everywhere like Razoul said, we'll need a lot of power on our side."

"Hate to burst your bubble, Al," Genie reminded him, "but Mozenrath still had those magic-detecting crystals up all over the place. And most everyone here is magical!"

"So we find a way around them," Aladdin insisted. "It won't be that hard."

"And you better not be thinking about leaving me behind this time," Sadira added.

"If we've got a plan," Sora stated, "then let's go for it!"

...

Roman and Snatcher celebrated their victory over Gotham's most infamous protector by taking a stroll through the newly conquered art museum, admiring the pieces within. "It's almost like a date normal people go on," Roman had remarked.

"Goodness knows we don't have very many of those," Snatcher agreed.

Neither of them really had an eye for layered meaning or nuance of color and shape, but they both seemed to agree on what basically looked pretty or, more importantly, valuable. "I'd put this one in my living room," Roman said of a painting of several well-dressed people in a park. He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder toward the abstract jumble of oddly colored shapes in the painting behind him. "That one is more material to hang over the toilet."

"I absolutely concur," Snatcher said with a nod, "though were I to pick something to grace the most prominent room in the house, I might instead lean toward…" He stepped a few paces down the hall, Roman following eagerly behind. "This one." It was a depiction of a garden, no people, simply an array of flowers and a few insects.

"Nice!" Roman commented. He turned to look Snatcher directly in the eye; "Maybe I should hire you to be my interior deco – " He blinked, noticing for the first time the bruise that crossed Snatcher's nose from where Batgirl had landed her fist. The bleeding had stopped a while ago, but Snatcher's face was now sporting a lovely patch of purple. "I…don't remember you getting hit there."

"What, this?" Snatcher gestured to the bruise. "It's nothing. Casualty of war."

"Yeah," Roman said with a somber nod. "You…remember that night I had you find all my scars?"

"Quite well, Torchwick. Couldn't forget that one if I wanted." Snatcher smirked broadly. "And that's a compliment."

"Yeah, well…you do remember what I said to you about you ending up with a few of those of your own if you got mixed up with me and what I do, right?"

"Torchwick, if I didn't know you better, I'd say you were actually worried for me."

"It's not like that," Roman insisted.

"Then elaborate," Snatcher bade him.

"Um." Roman paused, trying to think of a plausible excuse.

"I assure you, Torchwick," Snatcher said with a sly smile, "I can take quite good care of myself. Now, if I have to worry about you fretting at every moment – "

"You won't," Roman insisted. "If you're good, I'm good."

"I can take a few bumps and bruises in exchange for a greater victory," Snatcher went on. "Scars as well, if it comes down to it. And all the sweeter if I'm to split that victory with someone deserving." He looked Roman directly in the eye. "That's you, to be clear."

"You flatter me."

"I'm only repaying you in kind."

Roman leaned forward just enough to lightly ghost his lips over Snatcher's facial bruise. "I'm good, I swear," he emphasized.

"Yes. Yes, you are."

"Uh, guys?" Garfield interrupted from down the hall; he'd temporarily shelved his battle armor for ease of maneuverability. "Thought you should know we've got company. Actually, good company."

Roman and Snatcher both turned to address him. "What've we got, Pyro-Bro?" Roman asked.

"Mim helped me rig up the cameras to be able to survey outside the fire dome," Garfield explained. "And it turns out there's a friend of Peter's and mine waiting outside it. Word really musta gotten around about us."

"Well, then," Snatcher decided, "let's meet this friend of yours. Perhaps he can be of assistance to us."

"It's a 'she,' actually," Garfield clarified. "And I think you're gonna like her. She is DEFINITELY gonna help us."

In a moment, Mim, Aghoul, Roman, Snatcher, Garfield, and Peter were gathered just inside the border of fire. "Open it up," Garfield bade Mim.

Mim waved her hand, and a doorway-sized arch appeared in the flames, just enough to let someone through. From the other side, a young woman dressed in a red-and-black jester's costume scowled at the group.

"HARLEY!" Peter greeted, throwing out his arms. "Now THIS is a pleasant surprise!"

Harley Quinn stormed inside the barrier, crossing to Peter in a few quick steps before slapping him across the face.

"I thought you said she was on our side…?" Roman remarked. He'd brought the Cudgel just in case things got ugly, and his grip on it tightened.

"HEY!" Garfield stormed toward Harley, seizing her wrists before she could make another move against Peter. "What got INTO you, Harls?"

"What's got into ME?" Harley snapped her wrists back against Garfield's thumbs, breaking his grip. "What's got into YOU! I know whatcha did! I thought we was friends! I thought we had an AGREEMENT!" She began to sob through her yells of anger. "I knew ya never liked Mr. J. I knew it! And I knew you thought I could do better! But I never thought you'd go that far!"

"How far did we go, exactly?" Peter asked. "I'm rather lost."

"DON'T PLAY DUMB WITH ME!" Harley shrieked. "YOU KILLED MY PUDDIN'! WHO ELSE WOULD STRANGLE HIM AND THEN SET THE BUILDIN' ON FIRE? Only thing I can't explain is how ya shot him through the chest. But I don't NEED to know that, 'cause the rest of the murder had ya written all over it!"

"Okay, lady," Roman said, gesturing with the Cudgel, "I don't know what your problem is, but you need to calm your – "

Harley screamed as soon as she got a good look at the Cudgel, surprising Roman into silence. She then regained composure. "This your friend?" she asked.

"Yeah," Garfield confirmed. "Listen, Harls, we didn't – "

"And THAT'S his weapon?" Harley continued, pointing at the Cudgel accusingly.

"Harley," Peter attempted, "you really must believe us when we say we did NOT kill Joker. Not that we're not quite glad he's gone, but – "

"DON'T LIE TO ME!" Harley screamed. "Peter, ya strangled him. Your new friend blasted him through the chest with that THING. And Gar, ya set our place on fire to get rid of he body!"

"That is NOT – " Peter and Garfield barked at the same time.

"I DON'T WANNA HEAR IT!" Harley raged. "As of right now, we are OVER! Our friendship is DONE! There's nothin' between us anymore, and I ain't never workin' with either of you or your new friends again!"

"Harley," Peter insisted, "ask yourself why either of us would lie to you about this."

That gave Harley pause.

"Though, really," Garfield pointed out, "all our lives are gonna be WAY easier with that guy dead."

"Almost makes you wish we had done it, doesn't it?" Peter agreed.

Harley gave a wordless scream, turning on a heel and charging back through the arch in the flames.

"Oh, well," Roman said with a shrug, lifting the Cudgel to point it at Harley. "THAT was a bust – "

"NO!" Peter and Garfield both leapt, tackling Roman to the ground before he could shoot.

"Geez!" Roman hissed. "She just practically declared war on us! And you still want her alive?"

"She's a FRIEND," Garfield insisted.

"Was a friend," Peter corrected.

"What's the story on this 'Joker' fellow, anyway?" Aghoul asked.

"Long story we'll tell you later," Garfield promised. "For now, just be glad he's not around to stand in our way. That guy's already given us enough grief."

Mim covered up the archway in flame as soon as Harley had run through. "Oh, well," she remarked with a shrug. "Back to business!"

"Yeah," Garfield sighed, getting up; Peter and Roman did the same. "Back to business."

Garfield and Peter both trudged back to the museum with a lot less spring in their step than usual.

"Can somebody explain to me WHAT just happened?" Roman yelled.

"If I didn't know better," Snatcher mused, "I'd say someone just attempted to frame us for a crime."

"We have been here for a DAY!" Roman emphasized. "We can't ALREADY have an enemy!"

As he, Snatcher, Mim, and Aghoul moved toward the museum, all Aghoul had to offer was "Famous last words."


	32. Losing Minds

32\. Losing Minds

Mozenrath's reign over Fantastica was soon widely publicized, with mixed results across the wide expanse of nations. Many were relieved to have a new emperor to fill the shoes of the Empress, no matter what form he came in, and they put their trust in him blindly; Xayide's way with words went a long way to further Mozenrath's popularity. Others were suspicious, and more riots broke out as the apt skeptics crusaded against the man that they saw for what he truly was: a usurper. However, Mozenrath's supporters outnumbered and outclassed the rebels, and these riots usually ended in rebel blood spilled. Mozenrath was becoming the face of Fantastica.

Xayide, the Huntsman, and Yzma had taken up thrones of their own in other parts of the palace. Xayide was in charge of public relations and diplomacy, as had been her role from the very start. The Huntsman offered his services as an exterminator of beasts, which was seen as a welcome service among Mozenrath supporters and as a blatant sign of hatred among those who called luckdragons and other such creatures their friends. And Yzma was given full charge of hearing out complaints, which went as well as could be expected.

"How dare you trouble the emperor's advisory with such trivial questions as…" She leaned forward in her golden throne studded with amethyst, eyeing up the woman before her. "What was it, again?"

"How to lower the crime rate in the Ivory Tower," the woman reiterated. "Especially pickpocketing."

Yzma waved a hand. "The Huntsman will just kill all the vampires. It'll be fine."

"But…I'm a vampire…"

"Tick tock, time's up! I'm a busy woman, you know. NEXT!" Yzma shooed the vampire out of her audience chamber with a two-handed wave; a pair of surly minotaur guards escorted the hapless vampire away.

Mozenrath, Yzma, the Huntsman, and Xayide met for dinner at the end of a long, polished white table at which an array of delectable-smelling food was served. "I take it my lord is enjoying his time as emperor?" Xayide checked in. "I can't imagine you should want for much. You have fine food, a comfortable lifestyle, and almost unlimited power."

"Life is pretty good, isn't it?" Mozenrath replied before tearing into a roasted bird of a variety not found in his homeworld.

"Is the Ivory Tower to be our new base of operation?" the Huntsman asked. "Have we outright replaced the warship, or is the warship to remain a backup in case this base should fail?"

"The Ivory Tower won't fail," Mozenrath insisted. "Haven't you heard about how many rebels have already TRIED to stand against us? And they've been cut down without us having to lift a finger."

"So I suppose it's only a matter of time before we bring Wuya, Snatcher, Torchwick, Mim, Aghoul, and the rest," Yzma commented. "Provided the culture shock isn't too much for them."

Mozenrath looked at her in genuine confusion. "Who and who?"

Xayide dropped her fork in horror.

"You can't be serious," Yzma replied, deadpan. "Only the allies we've worked with from the very start of this escapade."

Mozenrath blinked. Now things were becoming clearer. "Right," he said, a little shocked that he'd apparently lapsed. "I say we give it a little more time. Extend our reach a little more before we spring our new conquest on the rest of them. Besides, half of them probably ended up going on some other quest in the farthest world you can imagine from here."

"I wouldn't doubt that," the Huntsman affirmed.

"Xayide?" Yzma asked, looking to the redheaded witch. "Are you quite all right?"

Xayide had frozen, her face gone bloodless. Perhaps it was some mental condition Mozenrath had since youth that had caused his lapse. It couldn't have been what usually happened to humans who took the throne of Fantastica. He didn't have AURYN. That was the cornerstone of why Xayide thought the plan would truly work. Without AURYN, there should have been no memory loss, as he wouldn't have been trading in memories to build new stories for himself. She had been confident. And yet he had simply forgotten, for a few moments, his closest allies.

Or perhaps she was reading too much into it.

"As a matter of fact, I am quite all right," she stated, calmly rising from the table. "However, there is much to do, and little time. I shall get started on tomorrow's agendas." What she really intended to do was find her old comfort, her water pipe, and smoke until her nerves calmed. For nerves had begun to act up indeed when Mozenrath had his little slight. She made haste to escape the dining room.

Yzma jabbed a thumb over her shoulder at the retreating Xayide. "Was that strange to anyone else?"  
"Very," Mozenrath admitted. "But I don't see a need for us to go jumping at shadows unless she starts acting weird all the time. As much as I hate to say it, I don't think we could have gotten this far without her."

"I must agree," the Huntsman concurred.

"Have we adopted her?" Yzma wondered out loud.

"Basically," Mozenrath said with a nod. "Probably the best choice we could have gotten out of this world."

"The others will certainly mesh well with her," the Huntsman observed.

The others. Mozenrath recounted their names in his head, the way Yzma had said them, and matched up those names to faces. Wuya. Archibald Snatcher. Roman Torchwick. Mim. Ayam Aghoul. And…the woman with the tri-colored hair. The girl who read bad poetry. A strongman, perhaps? Was there an archer? Were the lower laboratories built for someone besides Yzma?

But the way the faces blurred together and drifted off like items lost in the deep ocean didn't matter to Mozenrath. He felt confident, serene. He didn't need to remember everything, he thought, so long as he had power over all of Fantastica. He went back to systematically destroying his dinner.

...

While Gotham's premier art museum had become a den of thieves, its history museum was silently becoming emptier. Several valuable ancient coins had somehow found their way outside their displays and into Ragdoll's pockets.

The limber thief snaked his way through the ventilation system, departing once he'd found the building's exterior and rolling across the street in the form of a wheel until he reached a school bus. "Compliments of the WHAM ARMY," he muttered, giving the history museum one last look before starting up the bus down a predetermined course.

From there forward, it went exactly like clockwork.

The cashier working the eighth lane at the grocery store hurriedly stuffed the contents of her till into a plastic bag, the Melodic Cudgel pointed directly at her face so that she quivered in anxiety the whole while.

"Don't drop the bag with those shaky hands," Roman commanded.

"I'm trying not to!" the cashier squeaked.

Behind Roman, the cashier of lane seven, which he'd already emptied out, was attempting to slink away. He bumped into a neatly stacked pyramid of canned fruit, knocking a single aluminum container to the floor with a clunk.

"Did I SAY YOU COULD LEAVE?" Roman spun, firing the Cudgel directly at the pyramid. Chunks of fruit, slimy syrup, and metal shrapnel flew outward in a tumult. He turned backward to the cashier he had been intimidating: "Please continue."

The last of the money was wrapped in the bag and handed over. Roman slung it over his other arm, which was already carrying the other seven bags full of cash. "Compliments of the WHAM ARMY!" he called out with a smile, turning and bolting out the sliding doors. The school bus came to a screeching halt in front of the store for only a minute; Roman skipped up its steps, and Ragdoll took off at top speed. Roman then settled himself into the first available seat, setting his grocery bags of money down on the leather seat opposite him in the aisle.

Inside a bank vault, Mim materialized, taking in the sight of the walls lined with safe deposit boxes. With a wave of Mim's hand, every single lock popped open. "I've always hated having too much money," she lamented to herself as she set her magical purse on the ground in the center of the floor. "They may SAY money can't buy happiness, but they're wrong." Bills, coins, and other assorted valuables poured out of the boxes and into the purse, which opened out into its vast expanse of extradimensional space to hold it all. "Money does lead to happiness. And I hate too much HAPPINESS! It makes me sick, sick, SICK! But if that's what the others want, I'll play their game." The vault was empty, and the purse cinched. "But we better get to destroy something to make up for this!"

Mim picked up the purse, attaching it at her waist; it felt as light as if it were empty. "Compliments of the WHAM ARMY, of course," she muttered. She then teleported outside the bank, where the school bus was just pulling in. She marched aboard, taking the seat behind Roman.

Firefly's audition mission for Team Penguin, once upon a time, saw him breaking into a heavily guarded facility to upload blackmail material onto a flash drive. He had decided to give an encore performance, working a database that contained secrets Gotham's elite would have preferred stayed hidden. The data was now more aptly contained on an external hard drive rather than a thumb-sized device. Firefly remained mostly undisturbed through his download until its very completion.

That was when a pair of security guards barreled into the room to find him detaching the device. "HEY!" one of them barked as both went for their guns.

"Aren't you that Mosquito guy?" the other asked.

"No, no, no, he changed his name after that accident," the first corrected. "He's Nitrogen now."

"Okay, I have SEVERAL complaints, but I know how to pick my battles," Firefly replied. "For now, just know this is compliments of the WHAM ARMY." He raised both gauntlets, outdrawing the guards and blasting their guns from their hands before setting the carpet ablaze and jetting out the hole he'd carved in the wall, flying right onboard the school bus.

The blade of Aghoul's scythe hacked directly into the lid of a newly unearthed coffin. The coffin itself was expertly crafted, very valuable, but, knowing he had no way to transport it, Aghoul saw no problem in defacing it, the same way he'd defaced thirteen others throughout the night; some preliminary research had led him to the graves most likely to yield a reward. Aghoul pried away the remains of the lid to reveal the decomposed remains of a woman. "Well, you're a pretty thing," he remarked. "But not as pretty as this." He grasped the sapphire necklace wrapped around her neck and pulled it free. "Compliments of the WHAM ARMY, gorgeous!"

The school bus honked, and Aghoul hurried aboard. "Graverobbing?" Roman asked him once he'd boarded. "Seriously? You're too predictable sometimes, you know that?"  
"I'm aware," Aghoul replied cavalierly before taking his own seat.

Finally, Snatcher was deep in conversation with the owner of a jewelry boutique downtown. "So you HAVE heard of Torchwick," he said with a smile.

"The guy who took over the museum and built that impossible fire wall?" the owner replied. "Everyone's talking about him!"

"All I'm saying is that a nice place like this, well-stocked with fineries…well, it's the sort of place Torchwick would take an interest in," Snatcher pointed out. "Sooner or later, he'll sniff it out. And when he does, you can be sure he'll bring all manner of guns and explosives to get what he wants. I'm not so sure you'd walk away from that encounter alive."

"You're working with him, aren't you?" the owner realized. "You came to deliver a threat!"

"Not deliver a threat," Snatcher corrected, grinning ever more slyly. "Propose a deal. Torchwick will leave you alone if you give him enough incentive. As his official go-between, I can pass your name along with said incentive."

"You're scum," the owner spat as he opened up the till, handing over the stacks of bills.

"And you still have your head and all your limbs intact," Snatcher reminded the man, taking the bills in hand and thumbing through them. "They'll stay that way for this. If you feel a need to complain, kindly do remember that. Compliments of the WHAM ARMY, of course."

He strode confidently from the shop just as the bus halted to allow him passage. Once he was aboard, the bus made right for the Romano Museum.

"Why a bus, anyway?" Roman asked.

"Because Peter can never drive anything normal," Firefly answered. "We USED to commit most of our crimes out of an ice cream truck before it got carjacked by Joker. Then we switched it up to a cement mixer, but…"

"But that wouldn't have held all of us," Ragdoll informed the group. "I needed something with more storage space. Besides, acquiring it was incredibly satisfying."

"How DID you get a school bus, anyway?" Firefly asked. "This seems more like a Joker kind of getaway car. Like something he killed a bunch of kids to get. Did you kill a bunch of kids while I wasn't looking?"  
"Who, me?" Ragdoll replied. "Of course not. Now, that's a highly likely theory as to how Joker got this bus. I merely hotwired it when it was left unattended."

"Wait," Firefly said with realization. "This is LITERALLY JOKER'S BUS?"

"WAS Joker's bus. It's ours now. Fitting payback for the ice cream truck, no?"

"We would be so dead if he were still alive to find out," Firefly muttered.

"So if I understand you correctly about this Joker," Roman recapitulated, "he was the top dog of crime in this city, right?"

"Pretty much," Firefly confirmed.

"And we are riding around in stolen property that belongs to him," Roman emphasized. "I can't think of a better way to kick off our quest to replace him as Gotham's new crime lords."

"Now, WAIT," Firefly interjected. "When we took this job, replacing Joker was NOT in the cards."

"You did not just…" Snatcher sighed, lowering his head into a palm.

"Didn't just what?" Firefly asked.

"Joker," Ragdoll pointed out. "Not in the CARDS."

"That wasn't even on purpose," Firefly replied. "I'm actually kinda proud of myself for that one. But you realize this puts a big ol' target on our backs, right? If we want to be on top, we're going to have to fight Penguin for it. And Riddler. And…" He gave a defeated sigh, really not wanting to even mention the last obstacle. "Probably Mr. Freeze."

"You think we can't take whatever's waiting to fill Joker's clown shoes?" Mim huffed, arms crossed. "I almost made batcakes out of all three of those silly costumed crusaders!"

"We let them live to make a STATEMENT, remember?" Aghoul added.

"We're pros at this," Roman emphasized. "I think I even killed a guy tonight by having a bunch of cans of fruit explode on him. That was fun."

"Let the next crime lord in line come knock on our door," Snatcher concluded. "If he can get through our wall of flame to reach it in the first place. We'll show him a thing or two."

"Call me crazy…" Firefly began.

"You're an ex-Arkham inmate," Ragdoll reminded him. "We already know you're crazy."

"But I actually buy that between the six of us, we can actually become the bosses of Gotham," Firefly finished. "We have an entire museum surrounded by a giant wall of fire. You think Penguin, Freeze, OR Riddler has that kind of cred?"

"Maybe they'll actually get your name right on the news," Ragdoll suggested.

Roman leaned back in his seat. "Your move, Gotham criminal underworld. Your move."

...

As Roman spoke, a massive airship passed overhead, its exterior made invisible by the powers of magic so no one would be able to point it out and call foul play. Most spectators would have thought it to be another toy of Maximillian Zeus anyway. Those people could hardly have been less wrong.

"You really weren't kidding when you said you could provide ANYTHING, were you?" Joker remarked, looking around the floating fortress.

"Thank the military of Remnant for this little gift," Maleficent told him. "It should serve your ends well."

"It better," Joker grumbled. "After all, not all of us can blow up an entire street just by waving a stick in the air."

"Do not speak to me so callously," Maleficent warned. "I still have yet to see whether you prove worthy of my being your benefactor."

"Hold your horses, will you?" Joker retorted. "You'll see soon enough. But first, I'm waiting on your bird to get back to me with the news."

On cue, there was a tap at the front windshield; the airship's magic didn't cloak it from the raven Diablo, who was able to view it clearly. Diablo pecked the windshield a few times until he was certain he had the attention of both Joker and Maleficent, then gave a caw.

"It seems this world's version of your…tragically disposable minion has been found," Maleficent announced.

"Really?" Joker was skeptical. "You got all of that out of 'Awk!'?"

Diablo bristled; the inflection Joker had put upon his raven impression was actually a rather offensive statement in his language.

In a back alley, Harley leaned against the brick wall, sobbing. She had fully intended to drown her sorrows in crime: rob a store or two. But her heart simply wasn't in it, and she knew if she tried, she'd just get sloppy and end up hauled off to Arkham once more. She barely noticed the dark bird that circled overhead and was only brought out of her state of distraction by a lilting voice: "Oh, come now, stop all that crying. Put a smile on that face, will you?"  
"Huh?" Harley looked up to see two figures approaching her from the other end of the alley. The one taking up the rear of the pair, she felt a chill just from looking at: the woman's sheer height not counting her ominously horned headdress, the flowing black robe, the way she clutched in one hand a staff that let out a faint enough glow for Harley to see that the woman's skin was almost green. When she looked at the man who stood between them, however, Harley simply became angry. "What…do ya think…you're WEARIN'?"  
"Oh, this old thing?" Joker replied, gesturing up and down the length of his body. "I know, I know. So last year. But I never did care for high fashion."

Harley reached into a bag at her side, clutching a heart-shaped grenade tightly. "You think this is some kinda joke?"  
"You're kidding with that question, right?" Joker spread his arms wide. "Harley Quinn, I've come to ask you to work for me!"

"Work with someone who impersonated my puddin', right after he got bumped off?" Harley very nearly pitched the grenade then and there. "…Hey, wait a tick. How'd you know my name?"

"That's right," Joker realized. "You wouldn't know about that, would you? See, I may not be YOUR Joker. But I am THE Joker. In fact, I would argue that I'm the better Joker. You said your Joker was murdered?" He shook his head dramatically. "Pity. Perhaps he would have been a kindred spirit."

Maleficent smiled slightly.

"I don't know what the heck you're talkin' about," Harley said cautiously, still refusing to relinquish her hold on the grenade. "There's only one Mr. J…well…there was…and he was – "

"Oh, I know, I know," Joker interrupted. "In THIS Gotham, he was the clown prince of crime. Whereas in MY Gotham, that honor went to ME."

"Your…Gotham?"

"Surely you didn't think this was the only Gotham there was?" Joker continued. "You've never indulged in a little parallel universe theory?"

Harley shook her head. "You're talkin' crazy. Almost crazy enough to actually be him."

"I assure you, it's true!" Joker insisted. "Show her, Leffy!"

Maleficent's smile faded, and she refused to make a move.

Joker gave a drawn-out sigh. "My apologies, Mistress of All Evil Maleficent. IF it pleases you, show Harley the truth."

"The Joker speaks truly," Maleficent stated, gripping her staff with both hands. Its orb glowed a little more brightly, and behind her opened several portals that acted as windows, showing the skylines of several cities that, upon first glance, looked to be quite different.

"Look familiar?" Joker asked.

"Wha…" Harley stepped closer to the portals.

"Ah, ah, ah!" Joker wagged a finger. "Look, but don't touch! Not unless you want to be pitched out into the sky of one of these other worlds. Then where am I supposed to get a helping hand?"

Though the geography of each was a little different, Harley began to recognize common landmarks between each skyline. "Are those…all Gotham?"

"Indeed," Maleficent confirmed. "Just as these are all the city of Metropolis."

The portals quivered, then shifted to views of cities that were much brighter and more streamlined, each unique but all obviously built on the same basic design.

"…This can't be real," Harley breathed. "This's gotta be some kinda street magic. You're usin' holograms!"

"Well, believe me whether or not you want to," Joker said as the portals all disappeared from behind Maleficent. "The fact is, I came here from somewhere very far away with the intent to be the Joker, and it seems I've shown up just in time to fill a vacant slot. Now all I need is a Harley of my very own."

"Didn't you have your own Harley where you came from?" Harley asked. "What…happened to her?"  
"Oh, that's…" Not important. He hadn't even considered where his original sidekick might be. "…a grisly story, really. Shouldn't be told. What matters now is that I have you, and you have me! You seem like a far better Harley, anyhow. And you really can't argue that I'm a much better Joker than what you had."

"I can argue that all day," Harley insisted.

"You barely know me!"

"And YOU barely know ME, so how d'ya know I'm the better Harley here?"

"I understand it must have been hard for you," Joker went on, deciding to switch tactics. "Living in the shadow of the other Joker."

"I didn't live in his shadow! We were a team!"

"Oh, it seems I'm putting my foot in my mouth all over the place!" Joker said dramatically. "He really must have valued you. I know I felt that way about my Harley before the…accident. I always let her pick the next crime we were about to do, let her take the reins, listened to what she had to say, and oh, did she ever have the most beautiful voice! I loved her like no one else. I imagine your relationship with your 'Mr. J.' was much the same. He must have treated you like an absolute angel."

"He…" She wanted to say yes, but her mind flooded with thoughts of angrily barked orders, of black eyes given for getting in the way, of being abandoned at crime scenes so she could be arrested while her Joker gave her the slip. "…treated me well enough, yeah!"

Joker could sense her hesitation. He had her on the hook. "Then we understand each other, you and I," he continued. "We could never have what I had with her, or you with him. But I had to lose my one and only true love, while you…well, exactly the same thing happened to you. As we're both missing our better halves, why not form an alliance?"

"When you put it that way…" Harley began to wonder about this Joker. Did he live up to what he said? She had loved her Joker fervently, but sometimes the things he did to her, she couldn't turn a blind eye to. This Joker seemed to come without those complications. He already seemed more charming and eloquent. Besides, if nothing else, he would understand what it was like to lose someone so beloved.

"And I've a perfect idea for our first crime together," Joker suggested. "Getting revenge on the one who killed your Joker." He was ready to supply any number of names of patsies, thinking that most of the thugs present in his Gotham were at large here. He could pin it on Penguin, on Scarecrow, on Bane -

He didn't expect her reaction. The fist not buried in her bag clenched, and her expression and posture grew steely. "I know exactly who's to blame for that," she growled. "And a little revenge is just about what they deserve!"

Joker almost laughed. She'd already pinned his murder on someone else! But he bit his lip to avoid giving the game away. "Say the word," he told her, "and we'll make them wish they'd never laid a hand on your poor puddin'."

Maleficent couldn't have cared less about Harley, but she admired Joker's cruelty and his propensity for lies. She was intrigued to see where he would take her next.

...

After another day of the absolute grueling work of ruling an empire by putting in as little effort as possible, Mozenrath, Yzma, the Huntsman, and Xayide decided to make use of a facility in the Tower's upper levels devoted to a spa. The Huntsman refused to remove any articles of his clothing, around his face or otherwise, in such a public setting, and stood guard over the other three, who sprawled out across long tables in a room filled with steam. One employee gently massaged Mozenrath's temples, one vigorously worked out the knots in an overturned Xayide's back, and a third painted a new variety of face mask onto Yzma.

"I swear, wherever you go, peasants are all the same," Yzma sighed. "Complain about this. Complain about that. Do you know how many of them I had to turn away without listening to today because they won't shut up? It's tiring, I tell you!"

"Would that the popularity of our roles were reversed," the Huntsman said from his post by the door, huntstaff in hand. "I have heard much talk of dragons in this land, and not once have been contracted to slay any."

"I don't know what you two are complaining about," Mozenrath sighed. "This is the life."

"The others would clamor for our heads on platters if they knew how good we were having it without them," Yzma pointed out.

Mozenrath flinched. "What others?"  
"This again?" Yzma sighed. "Wuya! Roman Torchwick! Archibald Snatcher! Ayam Aghoul! Mad Madam Mim!"

This time, Mozenrath didn't respond with acknowledgement: "I have…no idea what you're talking about. I'm pretty sure you're just making up names at this point."

"Why would I make up a name like 'Archibald Snatcher'?" Yzma asked.

"For the same reason you'd make up one like 'Ayam Aghoul,'" Mozenrath retorted. "Which is obviously fake."

"This has to be some sort of joke," Yzma groaned. "You cannot seriously tell me you've all of a sudden FORGOTTEN our closest allies. What's next? You're going to tell me you don't remember the Land of the Black Sands?"

"And that would be…where, again?"

"Your home!" Yzma insisted, sitting up and causing her designated caretaker to smear face mask down the back of her neck. "The land you came from before you ended up with the rest of us!"

"There isn't a Land of the Black Sands in Fantastica," Mozenrath replied angrily, refusing to move from his position; his caretaker's fingers making calculated circles over his forehead just felt too good to interrupt. "Now, if you'll STOP TRYING TO MAKE THINGS UP TO MAKE ME LOOK BAD…"

"I must go," Xayide said with a tremor in her voice, moving off the table and donning a white robe in one sweeping motion. "There is much work to be done in preparation for tomorrow." She hurried out of the room so quickly, the Huntsman suspected she knew more about the situation than she was letting on, and without a word to either Yzma or Mozenrath, he followed her.

Yzma and Mozenrath didn't notice. "It isn't IN Fantastica!" Yzma insisted. "It's on another world! You don't REMEMBER this? And I thought it was people of my age who were supposed to forget things."

"Well, that's obviously what's happening," Mozenrath retorted, "because I've lived in Fantastica my whole life. There isn't even any such THING as other worlds. Why are you even doing this?"

"Because I…because you…" Yzma gave up, flopping back down onto the table. "We will speak more of this later, young mister!"

"Young mister?" A bit of a laugh escaped Mozenrath. "What are you now, my mom?"  
"I NEVER SAID THAT!" Yzma insisted. "WHO SAID ANYTHING ABOUT ME BEING YOUR MOTHER? NO ONE SAID THAT!"

The Huntsman tailed Xayide down a network of winding corridors before finding her all but cowering against a wall, hand pressed against her mouth as she forced herself to breathe deeply. "Xayide," he said sternly to alert her of his presence. "You know why Mozenrath has forgotten his life before this point, don't you?"  
"It was only supposed to happen to human emperors who bore AURYN," Xayide gasped.

"What is AURYN?"  
"The symbol of the Empress," Xayide explained. "Whosoever she bequeathed it to would speak for her and stand in for her."

"With such an item, we would not need to fight so hard for Mozenrath's position as a rightful ruler," the Huntsman pointed out. "Why have we not sought AURYN?"

"It disappeared with Bastian," Xayide informed him. "No one knows where it is. And even if anyone did…it would have only brought on this. Humans who come from outside Fantastica trade in their memories of their lives before this world in exchange for power and glory here. All of them attempt to become Emperor at some point. They either return to the place from whence they came, or…or they…"  
"Or they do what, Xayide?"  
"They lose their minds completely," Xayide answered, barely more than a whisper. "It's what happened to Bastian." Erroneous, but to the best of her knowledge, it was the conclusion that was easy to draw. "It wasn't supposed to happen without AURYN. Not to him. He wasn't…he wasn't like Bastian. He couldn't fail…"

"Is that what we stand to lose?" the Huntsman asked, now practically roaring. "Mozenrath's SANITY?"

"Yes," Xayide answered, eyes shut tight. "I believed he would be safe, I truly did."

"And what can we do to stop this?"

"I don't know." Xayide slumped to a sitting position, utterly defeated.

...

The band of heroes – consisting of three Keybearers (albeit two separated from their Keyblades), three former Beacon students, two alicorns, five Mystic Rangers, one overly friendly skeleton, one paranoid carrier pilot, two heirs to the throne of Agrabah, a witch of the sand, and a genie - set out from Agrabah at once, arriving at the edge of the Black Sands as night began to fall. As the sky mingled its bright colors with jet blackness, so did the sands beneath the intrepid team's feet.

"So far, so good!" Sora remarked.

"I'm still thinking about those magic-detecting traps," Jaune admitted. "HOW are we supposed to get by those? We have unicorns with us. UNICORNS."

"Alicorns," Cadance corrected.

"And isn't Papyrus, like, literally MADE of magic or something?" Jaune went on.

"THINK OF MAGIC TO MONSTERS LIKE BLOOD IS TO HUMANS," Papyrus explained.

"Yeah, exactly," Jaune emphasized. "How are we supposed to deal with that?"

"We cross that bridge when we come to it," Riku said firmly.

"I hate to break it to you," Aladdin pointed out, "but I think we've come to it."

The city was visible on the horizon, with its raised Citadel looming atop its peak like a vulture surveying prey down below.

"How close can we get before we have to make a plan?" Ruby asked.

"Pretty close," Jasmine informed her, "but then we have to figure out something."

They assembled just outside the city borders. "Explain these…magic detectors to me again," Stork implored.

"They're crystals set on top of poles as tall as most of the buildings here," Aladdin explained. "Mozenrath had them set up throughout the entire city so he could see whenever new magic entered his kingdom."

"But if there are Heartless here," Sora realized, "shouldn't those crystals be going off all the time anyway?"

"Jafar and Hades would have planned for that," Aladdin replied. "They would figure out a way to use the crystals to their advantage anyway."

"They probably have the patrol routes of the Heartless memorized," Jasmine volunteered. "That way, if they see a crystal light up, they know it's just a Heartless."

"Then it's easy!" Chip realized. "We just follow the Heartless around until we can get close to the Citadel!"

"There's no way to follow a Heartless that closely without it attacking," Riku butted in. "And we can't afford to fight every Heartless here."

"But there has to be some way we can use that to our advantage," Vida insisted. "What if we trailed just a block behind? Enough that the lights wouldn't fade, but far back enough that the Heartless might not spot us?"

"Unless Heartless have eyes at the back of their head or extrasensory perception that allows them to detect when they're being followed," Stork brought up. "Which I really don't doubt is the case."

"Sneaking up on a Heartless is hard, but not impossible," Riku corrected. "They don't have a good sense of what's behind them. If all we have to deal with is bigger Heartless, like Guard Armors and Darksides, we might just stand a chance."

"And we can pick off the little ones easy!" Nora added.

"I'm also wondering about blind spots," Riku went on. "Maybe there are some places in the city that Mozenrath didn't cover. Especially in the center, if he assumed someone would already set off the lights by coming in from the edges."

"So we need to look for blind spots for shortcuts and places where we can follow big Heartless across the city without being noticed," Nick recapitulated. "That just sounds like a huge puzzle."

"PUZZLE?" Papyrus repeated. "YOU KNOW…I'VE ALWAYS FANCIED MYSELF RATHER GOOD AT SOLVING PUZZLES. A CONNOISSEUR OF PUZZLES, IF YOU WILL!"

"If we got you a vantage point," Aladdin asked, "like this rooftop, do you think you could work it out?"

"Or, better yet, high above that," Luna suggested. "I could fly you up above the whole city."

"I'D NEED SOME TIME TO WATCH THE HEARTLESS' PATTERNS," Papyrus mused. "YES, YES…THIS WOULD BE MY GREATEST PUZZLE YET! BUT ONCE I'VE FIGURED IT OUT, WE'D NEED TO DRAW IT SO WE KNOW WHICH WAY WE'RE GOING AND WHEN TO ARRIVE."

"Here," Kairi said, extending her hands. "I can handle that." With a shimmer, a sketchpad and a pack of crayons appeared in her extended hands.

"Whoa," Jaune gasped. "How'd you do that?"

"It's a little trick Yen Sid taught me for carrying small things so I have my hands free for the Keyblade," Kairi told him. "Ever since I realized Naminé was part of me – "

"Wait," Jaune interrupted. "Who's…Naminé?"

"It's a long story," Kairi told him, "but I'll try to make it short. When people lose their hearts, they split in two. Their heart gives in to the Darkness and becomes a Heartless. But their body becomes something different. A Nobody. Usually, the Nobody and the Heartless are…kind of the same person, and they're a lot like the person that they came from. But for some reason, Sora and I had Nobodies that were…different from us. Sora gave up his heart to save me and the other Princesses of Heart, and that turned him into a Heartless and gave him a Nobody named Roxas. I lost my own heart that same day. It couldn't make a Heartless for a lot of reasons, but I did get a Nobody. Her name was Naminé. In the end, Roxas and Naminé had to become part of Sora and me again so they could be whole. But it's not like Vexen and Even or Zexion and Ienzo. They were exactly the same: Nobody and human. But that wasn't the case with Sora and me, and I don't know if we'll ever know why."

"It might have something to do with the sleeping Lights that Yen Sid talked about," Sora suggested. "He hinted at that, anyway."

"Naminé loved to draw," Kairi went on. "That's why I started carrying these around ever since we reunited. I've tried drawing a few things. My friends. Places I've been. But I'm not as good as Naminé was at all. I can make a rough sketch of this city, though, when we have a route figured out!"

"Every time I think this can't get weirder," Jaune said with a shake of his head. "So you're basically saying there's a whole different PERSON living inside of you."

"I'm ALMOST at the point where I've stopped being surprised," Stork added, deadpan.

"Yes and no," Kairi answered. "She's…there, but not really. It's pretty much just me. I…hope she's all right with that."

"I wonder the same thing about Roxas sometimes," Sora admitted. "But what are we supposed to do?"

"You can figure that out later," Nick said sternly. "Right now, we need a route to that Citadel."

Luna turned to Cadance. "I'll fly Papyrus if you fly Kairi."

"It's a deal," Cadance replied.

The two alicorns bore Papyrus and Kairi high into the sky, toward the moonless, starless abyss. Down below, the entire city lay like a sprawling labyrinth. As predicted, larger varieties of Heartless moved about from place to place: a Guard Armor clomping down this street, a Trickmaster juggling its clubs as it sashayed down that one. And as each made patrol, it lit up a set of crystals that left a glowing trail in its wake and took a while to fade. Also as predicted, Papyrus' eyes sought out places in the city layout where no crystals glowed at all.

"I'M BEGINNING TO SEE IT!" he cried.

Kairi poised the first crayon over her sketchbook. "Tell me where to go."

...

"…And it's been my most reliable method of getting most heterosexual men to let down their guard. Divulging precious information, letting me in on events generally restricted to the higher class…like that." Snatcher watched Peter's face (or, perhaps more properly, "Ragdoll's," as all had only just arrived back at the museum and neither Ragdoll nor Firefly had the time or energy to change into more casual clothing as of yet) to try and gauge a reaction to his explanation of Madame Frou Frou. "Though, if I were to say it wasn't…liberating, to an extreme degree, I would of course be lying." What else felt liberating was actually admitting his fondness for cross-dressing to someone Snatcher believed to be a trusted associate, perhaps already a friend. No longer was he a walking taboo. Though he did have his inhibitions. First of all, he realized he had to be absolutely sure Frou Frou would never have to work "her" charms on Ragdoll or Firefly. At this point, such a lack of trust between them would lead to complications for certain, he concluded. But for another, there was still the off chance that these newcomers actually would judge him in a negative light.

Ragdoll thought on it for a moment before asking, "So…miniskirts that go as short as you could possibly dare, or the long, flowing kind that twirl when you spin?"  
"Well, I, er…" Snatcher fumbled on the words. "I generally find the longer skirt more flattering to my particular figure – "

"I wasn't asking YOUR preference," Ragdoll corrected. "I was asking which one would look better on me."

Firefly passed through the hall behind them, helmet tucked under one arm. "Okay," he muttered, "so if we do the acronym thing like WHAM ARMY, we get…FARMAR? No, wait…real first names. Thaaaaaat makes us GRAMPA…"

"Garfield," Ragdoll interrupted, "we're talking drag."

"Lynn Garfields," Garfield responded without thinking.

Snatcher and Ragdoll regarded him with confusion.

"That's where this was going, right?" Firefly asked. "My drag name. That's it."

"Certainly you can do better than simply swapping your first name with your surname," Snatcher groaned.

"Okay, okay, fine," Firefly grumbled. "Crush my dreams, why don't you? …Bridgit Pike. There. That better?"  
"How did you go from something as simplistic as 'Lynn Garfields' all the way to 'BRIDGIT PIKE'?" Snatcher asked, incredulous.

"Are you going to complain about EVERY drag name I have?" Firefly retorted.

"As for the heart of the matter," Ragdoll brought up, "do you think I would look better in a miniskirt or the twirly sort?"  
"Oooh, tough call," Firefly mused. "I think I'm gonna have to go with the mini."

Roman, Mim, and Aghoul entered the hallway then, with Roman in the lead both physically and in the conversation. "So I tried coming up with an acronym for us," he was explaining, "but really, the best I could come up with was GRAMPA."

All six suddenly became aware of a sound. It was a sound all were familiar with, having caused their fair share of it over their lives, some of which weren't too long ago. It was the sound of an explosion. Specifically, the sound of the adjacent block being completely blown up.

Snatcher was the only one who lingered to ask, "What do you think that was – "

The next thing he knew, Roman had grabbed his upper arm and begun to bolt. Snatcher had no choice but to keep pace as best he could, noting that Aghoul, Mim, and Firefly were all running as well. Ragdoll, in the meantime, was rolling, having curled into the shape of a wheel and turning head over heels repeatedly to keep up.

"WHY are we running?" Snatcher asked in a huff.

"Because something VERY CLOSE TO US blew up," Roman told him. "And THAT means there is a VERY likely chance that WE are the next thing that is going to blow up!"

"Seriously, how does he hang with you and not KNOW these things?" Firefly asked.

"Lay off!" Roman barked.

They all burst out of the doors of the museum at the same time. "But the protective barrier Mim produced will certainly protect – " Snatcher tried to argue.

"Um, no," Roman reminded him. "Fire incinerates helicopters that try to descend through it. Fire also makes BOMBS BLOW UP FASTER."

"Speaking of the ceiling," Firefly pointed out, "it…looks like there's something up there. Mim, can you call off the flames for, like, ten seconds?"

Mim snapped her fingers, and all six halted on the steps of the museum as the flames above abated momentarily to reveal a massive airship sliding into view over the museum.

"Oh, SHIT!" Roman hissed.

Up above, Joker beckoned Harley to come take her place beside him at the control panel. "See? I did what you asked and just fired a little warning shot. They're fine."

"Good," Harley sighed in relief. Her expression then changed: "Now WRECK THEIR STUFF!"

"As you wish, darling!" Joker replied, dropping the next bomb.

Mim didn't bother to put the fire barrier back up. In fact, it came all the way down; she knew she and her cohorts would need a quick escape route in case things went wrong. As the bomb plummeted, Firefly seized Ragdoll around the waist and took off as fast as he could into the streets, weaving his way around the buildings.

Mim pointed a finger almost accusatorily at the bomb, which froze in midair, then sprouted wings and began to fly away of its own accord. She folded her arms, looking upon her victory smugly.

"You show 'em, dearie!" Aghoul cheered.

"Why do I just NOT have a good feeling about this?" Roman wondered out loud. "Mim, stand by to transport us out in case something extra-weird happens."

"You heard Garfield and Peter explain this city as well as I did!" Mim huffed. "No one here uses actual magic!"

The third bomb fell with an aura of green flame surrounding it, and though Mim pointed at it again and again, she couldn't slow its course.

"MIM – " Roman yelled, eyes widening in horror.

"All right, all right!" Mim snapped her fingers, taking herself, Aghoul, Roman, and Snatcher to a rooftop several blocks away just in time for them to see the Romano Museum go up in brilliant chartreuse flames.

As Firefly buzzed into the sky, Ragdoll asked him, "Are you really just going to leave the others behind?"  
"Does it LOOK like I could fly all six of us out of there?" Firefly retorted. "If I could, I would have. As it is, I'm just getting what's important to safety."

They both heard the explosion sound from behind them. "Well, there goes our bid at conquering Gotham," Ragdoll groaned.

"We'll get another gig," Firefly assured him. "Though I am gonna miss that Torchwick guy. He was cool."

"You're not going to miss him that much."

"And what makes you say that?"  
"He's standing right there."

Firefly's head whipped to look at the rooftop Ragdoll was pointing at, where Roman, Snatcher, Aghoul, and Mim were watching their base go up in flames. Firefly immediately zoomed to their side, setting Ragdoll down gently. "I know what you're thinking," Firefly began, "and I was NOT trying to ditch you guys – "

"I know," Roman interrupted. "Now shut up."

Mim, meanwhile, was livid. "GREEN fire!" she screamed as she stormed about the rooftop. "It's GREEN fire, and it resisted my magic! That can only mean one thing! It's HER! Ooooooh, how I hate, hate, HAAAAATE HER!"

"Now, now, my little corpseflower," Aghoul said shakily, "there's no need to get upset. We don't KNOW it's her for sure – "

"Oh, it's HER, all right!" Mim barked. "Why can't she just STAY OUT OF OUR BUSINESS?"

"Who is this mysterious 'her'?" Ragdoll asked, intrigued.

"Better question," Roman posed. "Why is it that we just got our base and all our loot blown up, and you're still SMILING?"

Ragdoll ignored him, waiting on Mim's answer.

"Why, that no-good Maleficent!" Mim raged. "She just has to play dirty!"

"I thought WE were the no-goods who played dirty," Firefly pointed out.

"We are," Aghoul explained. "And that's a good bit of why we don't get along!"

"Rival factions, I see!" Ragdoll realized. "Well, there's nothing like a good old-fashioned rivalry to get inspiration flowing."

"Inspiration for revenge?" Roman asked. "Because that's what we're gonna need right about now."

They all saw the airship cloak itself into transparency as it soared away from the wreckage of the museum. "There she goes, playing dirty again!" Mim huffed. "Not even staying out in the open where we can find her!"

"Practically taken the shirts off our backs, she did!" Snatcher growled.

"We're not out of the game yet," Roman insisted. "We're actually just getting started. If Maleficent wants to play, well, then, we'll show her what we're made of."

"Is that wise?" Snatcher asked. "She's given us quite the runaround thus far. And who knows what manner of freak she's managed to ally with, given this city's reputation?"

"Trust me," Roman insisted. "This isn't over."

"This isn't over, you know," Joker insisted to Harley and Maleficent. "We're just getting warmed up. Now that the opening act is through, we can move on to the main event."

"What're ya plannin'?" Harley asked.

"To take Gotham by storm," Joker told her. "After all, if this is the city I think it is, the names and locations of a few places might have switched around…but there will always be an Arkham Asylum."

...

The Huntsman burst back into the spa in the closest thing he could muster to a panic. "Mozenrath," he growled.

"What?" Mozenrath sighed; he was by that point overturned and having his shoulders worked.

"You're losing memories," the Huntsman insisted. "Xayide has confessed that it may be a side effect of you taking the throne here."

"No, I'm not, and no, it isn't," Mozenrath sighed. "I don't know why you all picked today of all days to try and play a joke on me, but it stopped being funny a LONG time ago."

"We must leave," the Huntsman insisted.

"Leave?" Yzma repeated, stunned. "After we've taken our biggest conquest yet?"

"If we remain here," the Huntsman told her, "Mozenrath will lose all recognition of who he is and where he comes from. Even his own name and sense of self."

Yzma needed a moment for that to sink in. "I…suppose if that is the consequence, we really SHOULD be going…"

"We will leave at once," the Huntsman repeated. "Mozenrath, do you recall how to open a portal that leads anywhere but Fantastica?"

"I know how to use the Darkness to make portals," Mozenrath answered, "but I'm not taking us anywhere. If I didn't know you better, I'd say you were just making things up so you could get me to leave the throne and…" He cut himself off, shoving aside his masseuse and rising from his table. "You thought you could take advantage of me," he growled, staring directly at the Huntsman. He then turned to look to Yzma; "And YOU! You've been his accomplice the whole time! You just couldn't be happy with being the Emperor's Advisor, could you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Yzma growled, sitting up to face him.

"You're trying to convince me I'm going crazy so that you can send me away and take the throne for yourself," Mozenrath accused. "And when I inevitably don't buy it, you're planning on defaming me in front of all of Fantastica and claiming I'm losing my mind so they'll install YOU in my place!"

"WHAT would possess you to think I would want such a thing?" the Huntsman barked. "Have I been anything less than loyal to you? Have I ever even hinted at betraying you?"

"And what about me?" Yzma hissed. "You're the one emperor I WOULDN'T try to run the country of behind his back! And that's really saying something!"

"Why should I believe you?" Mozenrath asked.

"Because of all we've been through together?" Yzma suggested.

"All we've been through," Mozenrath scoffed. "Let me guess: I've apparently known and trusted both of you ever since we came here from whatever world it was that we live in that isn't here."

"That…sounds correct to me?" Yzma said warily.

"Please," Mozenrath told them both. "I've only known you since I met you two and Xayide at Horok while searching for the first members of my Fantastican army."

That stunned both Yzma and the Huntsman into silence.

"Xayide's in on it," Mozenrath hissed, swiping his shirt and re-clothing himself. "I should have known the three of you would attempt to betray me. You were just too good to be true."

The Huntsman placed himself in front of the door before Mozenrath could storm out. "I forbid you from going any further!"

"Out of my way, traitor."

Before the Huntsman knew what hit him, he had been flung aside with immense force until he crashed against the wall. Mozenrath, his gauntlet cooling down after the blast, simply strode out of the spa.

"MOZENRATH!" Yzma leapt off the table, tightening the waist of the white robe she'd been provided. "MOZENRATH, YOU GET BACK HERE THIS INSTANT! I DEMAND IT!"

"YOU'RE NOT MY MOTHER!" Mozenrath yelled back at her.

"DO YOU EVEN REMEMBER YOUR MOTHER?" Yzma screeched.

"NO, AND I DON'T CARE!"

The Huntsman pried himself up off the floor, resolving to walk off his aches. "You listened in," he stated.

"You expected us NOT to?" Yzma said with a shrug pointed at him.

"Then you heard…us…"

"Yes, yes, I know about your little benefits arrangement!" Yzma confirmed. "We have more important matters at hand!"

They took off to chase Mozenrath together.

Xayide found the two of them hammering on the door of the apartment of rooms that had been designated as Mozenrath's private chambers. "MOZENRATH!" Yzma yelled. "YOU COME OUT HERE RIGHT NOW!"

"NO!" Mozenrath roared from inside.

"IF YOU DON'T COME OUT HERE ON THE COUNT OF THREE," Yzma insisted, "I'M GOING TO BREAK THE DOOR DOWN AND DRAG YOU OUT HERE MYSELF! A-ONE!"

"I wouldn't," the Huntsman warned.

"A-TWO!"

"Yzma, Mozenrath has likely sealed the door off with – "

Yzma was already backing up. "A-THREE! THAT'S IT!" She threw herself at the door at full force. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA – "  
She collided with the door, which refused to budge, and was thrown back onto the floor from the recoil.

"…Magic," the Huntsman sighed. "He's sealed the doors with magic."

Xayide tested her own magical force against the door. "He has indeed," she confirmed, "and a powerful spell at that."

"More powerful than what you can break?" the Huntsman asked. "The drain that must have taken on his life force…"

"It is no use to worry about him now," Xayide insisted. "We cannot reach him from this side of the door. We must wait until he decides to exit of his own accord."

"MY FIRST ORDER OF BUSINESS IS TO HAVE YOU ALL FIRED THE MINUTE I TAKE THE THRONE TOMORROW!" Mozenrath yelled. "CONSIDER YOURSELVES LUCKY I'M FEELING MERCIFUL ENOUGH JUST TO CONDEMN YOU TO EXILE!"

"Exile…" the Huntsman repeated.

"Us," Yzma affirmed. "He wants to exile us. He…really has forgotten us."

"There is nothing more we can do tonight," Xayide reiterated.

"But…I…he…" Yzma turned from Xayide to the door and back.

"Nothing more," Xayide said mournfully.

"Then we should retire and wait for morning," the Huntsman suggested. "We shall not be exiled so easily."

"You do realize that if we resist," Yzma told him, "he's going to…" She drew her finger across her neck with the appropriate sound effect.

"Let him try," the Huntsman said as he turned and stalked away. Yzma and Xayide gave up as well, retiring to their own chambers.

...

At Arkham Asylum, the inmates were let out as usual to the courtyard, where they had what passed for freedom – mobility, the opportunity to socialize, a few distractions. Usually, however, they were under strict supervision. As most of the inmates were set in their routine, no one noticed that the guards usually posted around the yard were missing that day.

The inmates settled in at their tables, some conversing with each other, some playing board games, some simply stewing to themselves and being glad they could do so in open air instead of a cramped cell. That was when the PA system sounded, a strange voice they had never heard before emanating from it: "Good morning, Arkham! I hope we're all as insane as usual! This is your friendly Joker announcing that this facility is under new management!"

"Joker?" Cosmo Krank muttered under his breath. "That doesn't sound anything like Joker!"

"That's right, all you crazies!" the voice went on. "All the staff of Arkham has been granted an…extended vacation. And in their place, they've left the one, the only…"

A Corridor of Darkness opened up from the office where Joker had made his announcement right into the center of the courtyard. "Me!" Joker cried proudly as he strode through, Harley cartwheeling alongside him and Maleficent walking tall behind.

"And who are YOU supposed to be?" Nathan Finch called out from across the courtyard.

"I just told you!" Joker insisted. "I'm the Joker!"

"You don't…um…well…that is to say…" Arnold Wesker stuttered. The small wooden dummy he carried with him was suddenly granted Wesker's secondary voice: "What the dummy means is, you ain't the Joker! You ain't anything LIKE the Joker!"

"Oh, dear," Joker muttered. "Seems I run into this problem everywhere I go. Well, I'm not going to give everybody the LONG version of the story. The short version is…THAT Joker has gone down to the big carnival down below. And who better to fill the Joker-shaped void in this city than me?"

"You're no Joker," Nathan scoffed. "You're just a joke."

Joker wagged a finger. "Ah-ah. Caaaaareful now. You wouldn't want to end up on the same cruise line as the good orderlies of Arkham, now, would you?"

"Give us one good reason to believe you're hot stuff," Nathan challenged.

"One good reason, is it?" Joker reiterated. "How about this: I took the liberty of electrifying the entire courtyard before you got here. Now, Harley, Maleficent, and I are standing in one of the safe spots. Let's see how many others of you found the safe zones." He pulled a remote from a jacket pocket, pressing a button.

Electric shocks ran through the ground and up the tables, jolting most of the current utilizers of the courtyard; a cacophony of screams went up. Joker then pressed another button, deactivating the electricity, and the screams petered out into moans.

"Well?" Wesker said through the dummy known as Scarface once he'd settled down. "Whaddaya want from us?"

"Imagine this:" Joker proposed, "a Gotham run not by your average criminal underworld, but by us freaks. The crazies. The whackos. The ones everyone wrote off. An army worthy only of Arkham, led by me…oh, and Harley, too. Everyone gets their fair share, so long as most of what we reap belongs to me…oh, and Harley, too. So, what do you say? Do we have an alliance?"  
The inmates whispered to each other. On one hand, Joker's proposition sounded tempting. On the other, no one particularly wanted to work for him. But if he could rig the entire courtyard to become a machine of pain, what else was he capable of? Besides, he had a very recognizable Harley with him.

Finally, Cosmo volunteered, "I'm in! Taking over Gotham sounds like fun, anyway!"

"Yeah, count me in, too," Nathan added.

"Make room for me and the dummy!" Wesker said through Scarface.

One by one, the other inmates chimed in affirmatively.

"This is goin' perfect, puddin'!" Harley chirped, grasping Joker's arm and leaning into him.

"It is, isn't it?" Joker replied.

"All hail the New Joker!" Cosmo cried, and the chant was taken up throughout the courtyard, either out of enthusiasm or fear: "NEW JOKER! NEW JOKER!"

Nathan strode toward Joker, Harley, and Maleficent. "What, come to try and rise against the man?" Joker asked, looking up and down Nathan, spying his artificial hand and eye. "Or did you catch a computer virus and expect me to debug you?"

"All I'm saying is that if you're gonna pull together an Arkham army," Nathan grumbled, "you shouldn't forget about the guys in the basement."

"What 'guys in the basement'?" Joker asked, intrigued.

"Max security," Nathan explained. "Too dangerous to be topside with us. The plant chick and the shapeshifter."

"Color me intrigued," Joker replied.

...

As dawn broke over Fantastica, Yzma, Xayide, and the Huntsman all rose from their beds with one objective. They met outside Mozenrath's door, ready to begin their assault anew.

"Agitating him will only make him refuse to come out," Xayide reminded Yzma and the Huntsman.

"Then let us test the strength of his enchantment first," the Huntsman said, reaching out to the door.

It was not only no longer sealed by magic; it was unlocked. The door swung wide, and an eerie wind blew through the apartment.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Yzma muttered.

Yzma, the Huntsman, and Xayide searched every last corner of the apartment, but Mozenrath was nowhere to be found.

And as they extended their search, asking the inhabitants of the upper levels of the Tower if they had seen their emperor recently, they learned he was absent from the Tower altogether, leaving no trace of when he had left or where he had gone.


	33. Old Emperors, New Joker

A/N: Trigger warning for suicide.

33\. Old Emperors, New Joker

If Mozenrath had remembered at all who Discord was, he might have blamed the architecture of his current location on that wily spirit. He figured himself to be in some sort of town, if only because he was surrounded by buildings and people. The buildings, however, barely seemed to qualify for that. Some of them looked to have been constructed entirely upside down, no window or door was in the right place, and no two adjacent walls were the same color. They were arranged in a jumble that sometimes allowed for something like a "street" to run between them and sometimes simply did not. As for the people, they were making a fashion statement that made Mozenrath cringe. They wore towels and curtains as dresses, barrels as shirts, paper as pants, buckets and boxes as hats. All of them carried odd items and wagons filled with knickknacks reminiscent of the "clothing" they donned, and all of them seemed to be in a hurry to get somewhere with these things, but none of them seemed to know exactly where that somewhere was.

And the only thing they all had in common was that all were human.

Mozenrath couldn't for the life of him remember how he had gotten to such a place. He remembered falling asleep in his apartment in the Ivory Tower, but not even waking up. He had simply arrived in the midst of the chaos.

Annoyed already, he began to storm into what he perceived to be the heart of the city, hoping to find a very good answer to the question of why he had been ripped from his new stronghold in apparently the dead of night to be dropped off in such a patchwork place.

"Greetings!" a voice called out from behind him. "I must say I'm surprised. I haven't seen one of your lot since…well, I don't know when. You're the only one of your kind here. You should be proud of it for so long as you can remember it."

Mozenrath whirled around to see who was talking. Perched upon a low fence was a small gray monkey. "My name is Argax," the monkey stated. "And yours, if I recall correctly, is Mozenrath."

"Great," Mozenrath groaned. "A talking monkey. Exactly what I needed right now. I've always hated monkeys." Though, come to think of it, he couldn't remember exactly why, or what it was about monkeys that grated upon him. The possibility that he had a half-brother who had carried a particularly vocal one around didn't even seem credible to him.

"You seem to be the sort of person who hated a lot of things," Argax replied. "Everything but power. What's really sad is that it seemed you had something else – someONE else – to care about, once. But your desire for power got in the way. If it didn't, you wouldn't be here. If you'd just been satisfied with living out your life with your friends as a commoner, or even a hero, you might have stood a chance, seeing as you didn't even have AURYN. But it looks like you just didn't need AURYN to get here, did you? You paid your entry fee all on your own."

"Stop talking NONSENSE!" Mozenrath yelled, reaching out to grasp the monkey around the neck with his right hand. Shaking Argax violently, he screamed, "WHAT AM I DOING HERE? WHERE IS THIS PLACE?"

Argax remained calm. "This place has no name," he explained, "but most just call it the City of Old Emperors. This is where humans go after they use up all their wishes and their memories of the world they came from while trying to become Emperor of Fantastica. Every human tries it at least once when they come here. And those who value ruling this world over returning to their own end up in this city, having wished all their memories away. They simply decided that nothing was more important to them than being Emperor, and they chose to forget their world and themselves."

Mozenrath flung Argax to the ground hard enough to kick up a cloud of dust. "That doesn't make any sense!" he snapped. "Why am I here? I don't come from any other world!"

"Yes, you do," Argax coughed, righting himself. "But you don't come from THEIR world. I know where you come from and what you truly are, and, as I've said, you're the first of your kind to come here. The rules probably had to be bent a bit for you. No AURYN necessary."

"Explain," Mozenrath growled, glaring down at Argax. He had the powerful urge to fling his right hand at the monkey, but he wasn't quite sure what effect that would have.

"Everyone else here is a human," Argax explicated. "Though in their current state, they're what I like to refer to as a Know-Nothing. They come from the human world. But you come from another Realm of Storytelling. There are infinite Realms of Storytelling, you know. Most just think of each other as other worlds, not knowing how separate they COULD be from each other and only focusing on how separate they ARE from each other. You come from another tale that was told by humans, much like the tales of Fantastica. The Realms do not often cross and generally stay quite separate. How did you ever come to – no, you won't be able to answer that. You've probably forgotten. But let me just say that if you were able to step outside the confines of your own Realm and enter another such as Fantastica…or even those of your other friends…you must have had great power indeed. Great power, great ambition, and a little luck backing you that you got the right story told."

"I don't believe you," Mozenrath growled.

"I didn't think you would," Argax admitted. "Any other questions?"

"How do I get back to the Ivory Tower?"

"You don't," Argax told him. "You get to stay here. This is where they all end up. Usually, they have to walk, or take a horse, but you just seemed to show up. That's what I meant about the rules bending for someone from a Realm of Storytelling."

"You said every Emperor forgets everything in order to be here."

"Humans use AURYN to wish their desires to reality here in Fantastica," Argax replied. "Those you see here realized they didn't want to leave, and used up their wishes to stay here instead of returning home. But every wish made equaled a memory lost. You didn't make wishes. As a character from a Realm, you didn't have to. All you had to do was want to make your claim here more than you wanted to go back to your Realm. You made yourself part of a story you weren't supposed to be part of, let alone such a big player as an Emperor. And that has no consequence in any Realm but this one. After all, this is where stories are born. All other Realms owe their existence to this one, so you'll understand if the laws of magic here are somewhat…protective of Fantastica. And all this could have been avoided, mind you, if you hadn't wanted to make this your ultimate claim. If you'd stuck to other thrones, you could have made your own story." Argax thought it over. "Since the rules were so different for you, maybe you won't end up succumbing to the same fate the humans did. But then again, you probably will."

"And what FATE am I succumbing to, exactly?"

"Losing your mind, of course," Argax informed him. "They wished away their memories. You just decided yours weren't as important as being the Emperor of the land that your own Realm owes its existence to. So you'll become like them. Do you see them all, collecting items for the sake of it? They don't know why they have them or what they want to do with them. They don't know where they're going. They'll wheel their barrows around town a few times, then discard them and find something else of interest. I find it all terribly amusing to watch. They all think they're doing something incredibly important, when really, they're doing nothing at all! But that's not even the best part! Come this way now, with me! Take a look!"

Argax sped off into the crowd. Mozenrath, deciding he was tired of this piecemeal city, opted not to follow, instead making a beeline for the outer wall of the city. He was getting back to the Ivory Tower one way or another, he decided, and nothing a monkey said was going to have any effect on him. His agenda was to return to his throne, have the traitors…

Have the traitors…

What traitors? Had there been traitors? Did something need to be done with someone?

And the thoughts trickled right out of Mozenrath's mind like water through a sieve until such time as he finally reached the earthen wall that surrounded the City of Old Emperors. He stared at it for a while, trying to remember where he was even going. Having no recollection of anything important outside the wall, he figured it was better to stick with what he knew, and turned back to walk into the depths of the city again.

In some time, he came across an open area where a crowd of people knelt on the ground, toying with a multitude of blocks spread out before them. The blocks had letters printed on them. The people pushed the blocks around, rolling them and arranging them into words that weren't really words at all. All the while, Argax's chipper voice cut through: "That's it, my children! You're all doing so well at the jumble game! Don't give up now!"

Mozenrath stormed toward the monkey. "All right," he sighed, "I'll bite. What's going on here?"

"Took you long enough," Argax huffed. "Tried to rebel, didn't you? But you forgot what you wanted on the way out. You're not so different from a human after all."

"Tell. Me. About. This."

"The jumble game is very simple," Argax explained. "They've forgotten how to talk, so they try to use the blocks to write things. But they've forgotten what words mean altogether, too, so they just end up writing – well, take a look for yourself!"

Mozenrath craned over one particular man who'd arranged a semblance of a paragraph out of the cubes: ALAHOI EUYAGIUUBNA WLIEUYIUAH OUHGAUHUH AQWZNA WPOEAMBH WOISASDKPOS AAUHHNXYZMAAAOIWJMZOIM. Something in the last word caught Mozenrath's eye for a moment, sparked some remembrance of meaning, but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what it was. He paced around the perimeter of the area, observing people spelling out such nonsense as ZZHUOAGN and OOZBWIZN and AWIMCOMS, as well as one man who was persistently writing BIEKBIEKBIEKBIEKBIEKBIEK as though it were a profound statement that needed to be heard by the world.

"Idiots," he huffed.

"That's what they all say at first," Argax interjected. He then called out over the field: "Don't listen to him, children! You're doing so WONDERFULLY!"

"Why are you encouraging them to act like idiots?" Mozenrath asked, turning his attention back to the monkey.

"You can't tell me you don't find this amusing," Argax prompted. "I'm guessing you had your own set of minions you used to like making bumble around. Perhaps something undead and expendable?"  
"Whatever minions I had like that would have been actually humorous," Mozenrath retorted. "Yours are just boring. And I see you don't reap any of the side benefits." He shook his head. "I'm leaving."

"Again? So soon?" Argax grinned widely. "But where are you going?"

"To…" Mozenrath paused. Then, in frustration, he screamed, "I'LL FIGURE IT OUT WHEN I GET THERE!" He took off running.

And yet again, when he reached the wall, he found himself with no idea of what was beyond it, what was desirable. He'd forgotten why he was even fleeing in the first place.

He wound through the spaces between the oddly cobbled buildings, looking around at everything worth taking in.

"I knew you'd be back," Argax taunted from a windowsill.

Mozenrath turned to regard the monkey with confusion. "And you would be…?"

"So it didn't spare you after all," Argax said with a growing grin.

"What exactly didn't 'spare' me?"  
"Have you heard the term 'Realms of Storytelling' anytime within the last few hours?"  
"No. Stop…STOP MAKING ME LOOK LIKE AN IDIOT!"

Argax simply flipped into the window and out of sight.

"Good riddance," Mozenrath muttered under his breath. He had to figure out what he was doing. He had to find something to do.

Someone had abandoned a wheelbarrow piled high with crystals. Mozenrath found the look of the shiny objects pleasing and took ahold of the wheelbarrow's handles, deciding to take advantage of the unattended objects and bring them back to his abode. Realizing he didn't even know where he lived, he resolved to stake out a home somewhere within the city.

He wondered briefly why only one of his hands was covered by a gauntlet. But the covered hand wasn't warm or uncomfortable, so he didn't bother peeling the garment off. Within a few minutes, it didn't even occur to him that gauntlets usually came in pairs.

...

Ragdoll had been prepared for the second verse of the same song the next night his branch of the WHAM ARMY (or perhaps "GRAMPA") was out and about in Gotham. They'd had to switch bases to an abandoned warehouse that was on the small side, and the sum of their valuables had to be built up from scratch. The bus had gone down in flames with the museum, but that didn't mean the six couldn't still split up to commit their respective crimes, then reunite later.

At the moment, Ragdoll was committing a rather daring crime. Gotham's premier fashion house was putting on a show downtown, with supermodels strutting their stuff along the runway wearing outfits that ranged from tastefully quirky to downright ridiculous. The gowns were worth a fortune each, and that was the reason Ragdoll had cited for picking out this particular venue to loot, but he had an ulterior motive. After all, thin as these models were, Ragdoll was of proportions comparable enough to comfortably fit any of their ensembles, and he did so wish to settle whether miniskirts or long, flowing trains suited him better.

So, while the models gathered backstage and their makeup artists flitted back and forth, Ragdoll silently slipped from shadow to shadow, making his way toward a clothing rack that held a plethora of desirable pieces. Ferrying them out through the ventilation system one by one would be difficult but not impossible. And "difficult but not impossible" was Ragdoll's favorite mode of operation.

He lay a hand on an enticingly green and fluffy gown.

The wall broke open, and a veritable army of human-sized plushies with bulbous heads and sharp metal claws marched into the backstage area. The models and makeup artists were sent into a tizzy, screaming and running about for the sake of their safety.

"Well, there's something you don't see every day," Ragdoll remarked.

Cosmo Krank, perched aboard his levitating board known as the Cosmo Flier, zipped into the room, taking a look around. "Looks like we're playing a game of diddly-doodle dress-up!" he laughed. "Now, normally I'm not into the whole doll craze, but these wardrobes will fetch me millions!"

His eye then landed on the clothing rack that was seemingly moving of its own accord toward the wings. He zoomed down toward it, planting himself in the rack's path. "Now, don't tell me you don't want to play with my Zoom Pets!" Cosmo laughed, indicating the plushies. "They now come with extra-murderous action!"

Ragdoll peered sheepishly out from the clothing on the rack; he had been hoping the chaos would allow him a getaway. "You know, the more newfangled these toys get, the more they make me nostalgic for when a teddy bear was just a teddy bear," he said rather sheepishly.

"Wait a minute!" Krank let out a chortle. "RAGDOLL? You're Ragdoll, right? Were you trying to steal these for YOURSELF?"

"I don't quite see the conflict here," Ragdoll pointed out. "You always seemed like more of the revenge-driven sort of villain. When did you turn to petty thievery?"

"When my new boss gave me a Get Out of Arkham Free card," Krank replied. "And since the new Joker in town wound my career back up, I figured why not play his game? Though, like I said, I'm really not into playing with dolls." He produced a remote control from his pocket, pressing a sequence of buttons. The Zoom Pets advanced upon Ragdoll.

"After this," Ragdoll told him with a grin, "you're going to absolutely HATE it."

The Zoom Pets converged, several of them slashing out at Ragdoll at the same time. Ragdoll reached backward, gripping one of them by the head, then flipped himself up on top of the pet, catapulting himself backward out of the line of fire. The Zoom Pets all turned to give chase, only for Ragdoll to catch hold of an empty wheeled clothing rack and give it a shove into the crowd, knocking several of the Zoom Pets over; their overlarge heads made it difficult for them to stand back up.

"So you want to have some flim-flammery fun, do you?" Krank laughed, soaring high. He directed the Zoom Pets to follow Ragdoll, slashing out with their multitude of claws. Ragdoll bent and twisted around the strikes, giving the Pets a string of near-misses and becoming more and more giddy each time he evaded certain doom. He rolled into a handstand; his legs wrapped around the head of another Pet and he used the captured plush as a bludgeon to knock down several others. Letting go, he flipped back into a standing position. By now, the remaining Pets had gotten awfully close, and Ragdoll adopted a look of concern, standing frozen in place.

"Awwww, I hate it when toys break this easily!" Krank crowed, forming the Pets in a circle and making them charge.

At the very last moment, Ragdoll hit the floor, and the Pets tore into each other with their claws. Ragdoll rolled through a cloud of wiring and fluff shrapnel in order to grab onto the loaded clothing rack, attempting to run it out the hole in the wall Krank had created.

"NOT SO FAST!" Krank taunted; the impromptu exit was suddenly filled with tiny toys, barely higher than an ankle, known colloquially as "Krank Bots." A myriad of missiles clicked into place on the Bots' backs.

"Oh dear," Ragdoll muttered before every single missile deployed, seeking heat. He flipped, ducked, and rolled, forced to let go of his prized dresses. His nimbleness paid off; each missile struck empty wall or ground, exploding harmlessly.

Krank hammered the buttons on the remote, but the Bots had run out of ammo. "Let me guess," Ragdoll teased, making his way back toward the rack of dresses. "Refills sold separately?" He laughed as he steered the rack right through the bots, upending several of them on his way out to the open road. "TOODLES!"

As Ragdoll bolted down the street with his prizes, he mulled over what Krank had said in his head. What could Krank possibly have meant about there being a new Joker? And if someone had hired Krank to his side, who else did they have at their disposal?

Ragdoll was made very aware of the sound of a revving engine behind him. It belonged to no car. He twisted his head about to see a giant yellow spinning top barreling down the street behind him, closing the distance, with Krank perched atop it, cackling madly. "TAG!" Krank yelled. "YOU'RE GONNA BE IT!" A pair of mechanical arms emerged from the top, reaching out.

Ragdoll knew he couldn't outrun the eccentric vehicle. His head snapped back forward as he sought a means of escape. It came in the form of a sewer grate. He wouldn't be able to take the whole rack of dresses down – he'd have to surrender his score to Krank – but he could take at least one and get away safely.

Swiping a sultry number with a slit up one side of the skirt off the rack, Ragdoll let go of the rest, somersaulting toward the grate and prying it up before disappearing down it with the dress wrapped around one arm.

Dropping into the sewers and hoping he wouldn't run into Killer Croc – for all Ragdoll knew, Croc was working for this "new Joker" too – Ragdoll began to map out the city in his mind, taking the subterranean route back to the warehouse. Hopefully, Krank would be happy with the high-priced outfits Ragdoll had left behind, and it would definitely take him a while to figure out his own way into the sewers, by which time Ragdoll's trail would be long cold.

Hopefully, Ragdoll thought, the others would have better success than he had on their respective missions. And he did, after all, have one dress to show for his night's work.

...

A section of the wall of a car dealership show floor fell away with smoking edges, and Firefly walked in to take a look at the pickings. With the last vehicle out of commission, Firefly had volunteered to pick a new one. It wasn't that he didn't find Ragdoll's propensity for odd vehicles endearing; he would just rather drive something sportier than a tractor.

Knowing full well his priority was to find something classy that would seat six, Firefly, already knowing that "classy" and "seats six" were irreconcilable terms, decided to take a little detour, popping open the door of a bright red convertible. He then realized his gas tank, which also functioned as his propulsion system for flight, would get in the way of him being able to sit properly, so he momentarily detached it, letting it thud down into the back seat. As Firefly slid into the front seat, running his hands over the wheel, he muttered to himself, "Niiiiiiiice. Huh. Y'know, maybe I could make this work. One car for me and Peter, one car for the other guys. Why stop at one sports car when you can have two? Yeah, that settles it. Definitely taking this one and coming back for another." He reached beneath the dashboard, lamenting that no one was around to hear him say "You've heard of HOTwiring…"

As Firefly muttered to himself, he failed to notice a car on the far end of the show floor morphing from a white sports car to a bright, gleaming yellow racer and slowly turning toward the red convertible. He did, however, hear the loud revving of the engine as the yellow car careened toward the red.

"WHAT?" Firefly yelled as his reflexes kicked in; he struggled out of the front seat and leapt over the dash, springing off the hood, to hit the ground and roll as the vehicle Nathan "Gearhead" Finch had commandeered collided with the convertible, pinning the front end against the far wall of the show floor.

The side window of the yellow car rolled down. "I thought you were supposed to be the fast one," Gearhead taunted. "I didn't think you'd be that easy to make roadkill out of."

"In case you missed it, I WASN'T," Firefly insisted, pointing both wrists at Gearhead's car. "You, on the other hand, are going to roast like a marshmallow." He clicked both triggers, with no result. It then hit him as hard as Gearhead's car nearly had; his tank was still in the back seat of the convertible. Luckily, only the front of the convertible had been mangled, but there was still a very dangerous obstacle standing in between Firefly and his primary weapon, and that obstacle was turning the car around to aim it at Firefly himself.

"…Oh, crud."

Firefly waited until the last moment to leap out of the way of the car, going around the driver's side and latching onto the open window so he could throw his free fist in and deal a solid punch to Gearhead's face. The momentary diversion caused Gearhead to swerve; the yellow car smashed into a cinderblock pillar and the engine began to smoke.

"Not so tough without your ride, are ya?" Firefly laughed as he let go of the car, rushing for the convertible.

Gearhead made a hasty exit of the car, bringing into hand several long tubes. "At least I have a backup plan!" he yelled, throwing half of them one by one at a lineup of motorcycles against the wall. "That's more than you can say right now!" The other half went toward a line of ATVs on the opposite wall. As each tube connected, the vehicle it attached to was struck through with nanotechnology that glowed orange on the sides of the metal. The motorcycles and ATVs all turned upon one target.

Firefly hopped into the back seat of the convertible, picking up his tank to reattach it. He became aware of the legion of motorcycles and ATVs headed his way. "Come on, come ON!" he muttered before settling the tank into place and blasting off. The motorcycles and ATVs collided with the convertible in a great twist of scrap metal.

Firefly, playing a hunch, glanced down at the wreckage. The floor was rapidly becoming damp with leaked gasoline. "Well, would you look at that?" Firefly announced. "You don't have a car…and I have my firepower back. Looks like you're goin' out with a bang."

Gearhead just gritted his teeth, making a run for a motorcycle that wasn't yet demolished.

Firefly zipped backward out through the hole in the wall he'd made as an entry point, aiming both wrists at the shrapnel and gasoline surrounding what had once been a red convertible. He let twin blasts fly. As he zoomed to safety, the entire dealership went up in a great explosion.

Firefly laughed to himself just as Gearhead, seated aboard a blazing yellow motorcycle, came zipping out of the smoke, riding the shockwave, staying just an inch away from the flames. "NICE JOB BLOWING UP THE PRIZE, LIGHTNING BUTT!" Gearhead yelled, his smile a mile wide. "I HAVE THE LAST BIKE! AND I'M NOT PUTTING IT TO WASTE!"

He readied another tube in one hand, tossing it expertly. It stuck on Firefly's tank, jolting it through with nanotechnology. Firefly's entire propulsion mechanism suddenly went wild, jolting him back and forth.

"Heh," Gearhead chuckled as he rode past. "Speeding ticket."

"YooooouuuuUUUUUUUUUU – " Firefly growled as he was thrown far off course, careening off to the side and down a back alley. Finding himself heading for a wall at full tilt, he frantically detached the tank, landing roughly on the ground as the tank propelled itself into solid brick, exploding upon impact.

"Ugh," Firefly groaned as he looked up at the damage. Hopefully Mim would be able to fix him a new tank; it seemed within her realm of expertise. "THAT guy just made my LIST," he muttered as he got up and dusted himself off.

...

Archibald Snatcher's duty of the night was pure reconnaissance. He stalked the alleys and strode the streets, looking out for potential venues for robbery. Shops whose lights were too bright, whose window merchandise was too tempting. He began to miss the steam-powered wagon he'd used in the past to proclaim curfew in Cheesebridge; he could certainly make an impression from that. As it were, he had to make his rounds on foot, which was certainly a lot more inconspicuous. As he passed people who didn't even look him in the eye, he wondered if anyone at all suspected he was a high-ranking member of what he believed to be Gotham's most prolific crime ring.

He had no idea about how wrong he was about to be proven on that front when he entered one alley in particular to find himself staring down three people: two hulking gangsters and one small, meek-looking man donning a wooden ventriloquist's dummy on one hand.

"That's one of the guys!" the Ventriloquist said through Scarface. "The new Joker mentioned him! Tall, ugly, and wearin' a red hat!"

"Mr. Scarface!" the Ventriloquist chided, his voice shaking. "That was rude!"

"RUDE?" the dummy – no, Snatcher had to remind himself, the Ventriloquist using the dummy as a mouthpiece – snapped. "I'll show you a thing or two about rude! How about I take one of those four eyes of yours outta commission? You think that's RUDE?"

"Yes, sir," the Ventriloquist replied. "I mean, uh, no, sir!"

"Well," Snatcher remarked. "It seems I've interrupted something I'd rather not know the context of. Though I am rather interested as to who gave you my description." The words "new Joker" weren't lost on him.

"Don't think you're just gonna walk away from this!" Scarface threatened. "The new Joker wants the WHAM ARMY taken outta play! And that includes you, fatso! Rhino! Mugsy! Take this guy to the cleaners!"

The thickset thugs flanking the Ventriloquist moved forward. Snatcher unchained his weapon from his waist, prepared for a fight. Rhino was the first to throw a punch; Snatcher did a small pirouette out of the way before slamming the hammer of his weapon up against Rhino's temple. Snatcher was then able to sidestep behind Mugsy as the latter drew a knife; the chain of Snatcher's weapon ended up wrapped around Mugsy's throat. Snatcher only abandoned his attempts to strangle Mugsy once Rhino charged him with another knife. A burst of lightning marred Rhino's dominant hand, causing the knife to be dropped to the ground. Mugsy spun around to find the barrel of the Dust-powered gun aimed directly at his face; he shrugged it off and charged before Rhino pulled him out of the way just in time to avoid being blasted point-blank.

The shot, instead, collided with Scarface. One of the dummy's wooden arms was severed, hitting the ground. The Ventriloquist gasped in horror.

"Don't just stand there, dummy!" Scarface growled. "MAKE HIM PAY FOR THAT!"

"YES, SIR!" The Ventriloquist lunged forward, dodging another lightning blast and the hammer. While Wesker wasn't all that impressive in a physical fight, he did know the easiest places to attack someone to get the upper hand. The hand not holding up Scarface balled into a fist, connecting hard with Snatcher's celiac plexus. And while that had him distracted, the Ventriloquist had the opportunity to kick Snatcher right between the legs in the universal weak spot.

Snatcher dropped to his knees, and Rhino and Mugsy saw their chance to intervene, kicking at him until he lay on the ground, gathering bruise after bruise. Rhino picked up Snatcher's fallen weapon; "Hey, Mugsy! Whaddaya say we give him a taste of his own medicine?"

"Yeah!" Mugsy agreed. "Give it to him!"

The chain of the weapon wrapped around Snatcher's neck. Snatcher, genuinely terrified, saw only one way out of the situation, and hoped desperately it would work. He put all his effort into clawing at the chain, making strangled noises; this part wasn't hard, as he actually was choking from the tightening metal. The hard part was slowly transitioning into silence, slowing his movements before going completely limp, making it look as though he had died long before he actually would have. When he went silent and motionless, the chain was removed, much to his relief. He held his breath, not wanting a single giveaway to his state of being. Hopefully, the Ventriloquist and his gang would be too careless to check his pulse.

"You think he's…?" Mugsy rolled Snatcher over with a foot.

"I'm not gonna take any chances," Scarface ordered. "Shoot him in the head."

"But…sir!" the Ventriloquist rebutted. "There's no way he could have survived! Just leave him alone. I don't want to…" He paused, swallowing hard. "I'm just sure he's dead."

"This better not be you chickening out because you don't wanna finish the job," Scarface growled.

"Please," the Ventriloquist pleaded. "The new Joker wouldn't want us to waste our time here. He'd want us to move on to other things!"

"All right," Scarface relented. "Let's get a move on."

After the small band of thugs left the alley, Snatcher knew it was safe to breathe again. He did not, however, actually make a move to get up for some time. His entire body was wracked with pain, and he needed a moment to simply wallow in it without exacerbating it. Finally, laboriously, he peeled himself off the ground and began to limp back to base.

...

Mim had decided she wanted a pet. A cat, to be specific. That was what brought her to the zoo after hours, peering into the enclosures of the panthers, the lions, and the leopards in an attempt to figure out which was best for her. Of course, all of them had an equally strong chance of mauling her teammates when she wasn't looking. Aghoul could easily be patched up, she figured, and she could sweet-talk Mozenrath into bringing the others back from beyond the grave later, but she supposed that after having his face ripped off by a tiger the first time, Roman wouldn't take too kindly to her having a companion after that. Still she looked into cage after cage, judging the danger factor of each big cat.

The sound of rapidly approaching footsteps excited Mim: a hapless victim. She wondered what shape to take in order to best bring them down. It occurred to her that a surprise attack was probably the best course of action, so she first became a hummingbird in order to slip through the bars of the fence surrounding the tiger enclosure, then morphed into a tiger, biding her time among the zoo's native residents.

She watched as a tall man with bright red hair and a face that struck her as quite memorable appeared in between the fences. "No security cameras here, huh?" he remarked. "Too bad. Good thing I always bring my own around now…"

He plunged a hand into his own chest, which became the consistency of clay in order to admit his arm. From the recesses of his body, he withdrew a small camera, which he nestled in the branches of a decorative tree, stretching his arm up to twice its length to do so. Switching the camera on, he announced to the lens, "In a few hours, Gotham is going to be plagued by a host of wild animals that escaped from the local zoo. Two questions are going to be on everyone's mind. One: 'How can I avoid meeting a terrible fate in the stomach of a beast?' And two: 'Who could have done such a depraved act?' Well, in order to clear up any and all confusion, it was ME! BASIL KARLO! Also known as Clayface. And not that wasted potential goody-two-shoes REFORMED Clayface. I'm the bigger, better, BADDER Clayface!" He spread his arms for dramatic effect. "Now, you might wonder: what does Clayface have to gain from letting out a horde of dangerous animals? Well, I'm currently under new management. Seems Clayface isn't the only one to get a sequel. We've got some clown calling himself the new Joker! Time will tell how THAT one pans out. He ordered a plate of chaos, and I figured, why not kill two birds with one stone? Make a scene for him; STEAL the scene for me! You getting all this, Gotham news channels? Because I'm doing this aaaaaaaall for you! Well, for me, but you know you're going to air this footage anyway. What am I still soliloquizing for? It's time to make Gotham's citizens an endangered species!"

He reached out with his right arm, morphing it into a hardened clay mace covered in sharp spikes as he did so. The mace rammed the fence of the tiger enclosure, breaking a huge opening in it. "And this little WHAM ARMY thinks they're the top dogs of crime," he joked, looking pointedly up at the camera as he retracted his arm.

"Actually, right now, it's more like top cats," a very magenta tiger said as she approached the exit point Karlo had just made in her enclosure.

Karlo flinched, putting both arms up in front of his body in a defensive position. "It TALKS?" He then looked back up at the camera, giving it an overblown shrug. "This is the most pathetic-looking cereal mascot I've ever seen!" He paused, leaving a space for studio audience laughter.

"You know," Mim said, reverting to her human shape, "you just might be the ugliest person I've ever seen." She said this with a sweet smile, practically salivating as she drank in Karlo's visage.

"Oh, yeah?" Karlo retaliated. "Well, you're no prize yourself." He transformed both arms into long, sharp blades, slashing at Mim from both sides.

She jumped up into the air, standing on completely nothing as the blades passed harmlessly beneath her feet. "Trying to kill me while returning my compliments?" Mim gushed. "Now, YOU'RE a hunk of a man!"

"Ewwww," Karlo groaned as he swapped both arms into maces. "Get a life, lady!"

Mim just marched three paces forward on thin air, leaned in, and planted a sloppy kiss on Karlo's cheek. She then transformed into a hawk so that she could flit out of the way of the immediately flung maces in her direction.

"I guess it never would work out between us, would it?" Mim sighed, dodging blow after blow. "I'm with the WHAM ARMY, you're with…wait, did you say there's a new Joker in town? Ragsykins is NOT going to like that…"

"Yeah, I said 'new Joker'!" Karlo insisted, taking swing after swing and becoming increasingly frustrated with each miss. "And he's gonna dump all you WHAM ARMY brats in the river to drown! Though I'm guessing YOU'LL just turn into some kinda fish."

"You know me so well already," Mim teased. "Are you sure you don't want to reconsider you and me?"

"THAT'S IT, LADY! JUST HOLD STILL AND LET ME SMASH Y – "  
Both maces came down hard on the shell of a gigantic magenta armadillo. "Sorry, sweetie," Mim replied, "but it looks like I'm the one who has to smash you." She balled up, rolling right over Karlo, flattening him against the ground. She unrolled and spun around to get a look at her work.

The flattened clay on the ground peeled itself up and re-morphed into Karlo's body. "Nice try," he huffed. "You're not the only one who can play the shapeshifter game." He morphed into a sharp-tusked boar. Mim rolled back up to test her strength against his, speeding hard against him. His tusks dented her shell, and he lifted her up upon them, flipping her into the air like a pancake. She came down hard behind him, bouncing a couple times before unrolling and taking on the tiger's shape once more. As the tiger, she lunged.

Her claws sank into amorphous clay before Karlo reformed into an animate steamroller. "Let's see how YOU like getting run over!" he laughed before charging full steam ahead.

Mim knew another animal wasn't going to cut it. In order to survive, she transformed into a decorative throw rug, lying flat on the ground and waiting it out until Karlo had finished trying to squash her. Once he was past, she sprang up again, now in human form, giving a hop as she pointed at Karlo and flung a bolt of electricity from her extended finger. The lightning jolted him, and he morphed back into human form as well.

"What part of CLAYface don't you understand?" he raged. "Flattening me doesn't work. Lightning bolts don't work. NOTHING YOU CAN DO is going to work – "

An explosive bolt of plasma collided with Karlo's head, blowing it up into droplets. Mim waited smugly while he collected himself from where he'd been scattered and re-forged his head.

"Okay, that only works TEMPORARILY," Karlo informed her. "You know what? I'm not going to waste my time on you. I'm getting what I came for." He forged both arms together into a massive block, swinging it down hard on the nearest fence; the lions suddenly found themselves with an exit point. Immense wings of clay sprouted from Karlo's back, and he beat them to propel himself into the air, grabbing his camera out of the tree on the way as he sped into the depths of the zoo, using a bladed arm to sever the bars of every fence he passed.

"You're not getting away that easily!" Mim cried, launching into the air as a peregrine falcon to give chase.

"No, no, no…" Karlo muttered, looking back over his shoulder to see Mim following. He twisted the camera around to frame her: "Might as well let you see the dramatic chase scene while I'm at it." His free arm chopped at fence after fence as he led Mim into the depths of the zoo, a fixed destination in mind and a plan taking shape in his head.

Over the polar bear enclosure, a temperature-controlled environment with icy waters for the bears to play in, Mim caught up with Karlo, sinking her talons into one of his wings. He performed a barrel roll, and as he did so, he let a glob of clay come loose from his body, wrapping around Mim like a tight chain. Mim struggled as the clay cuff hardened; she dropped into the cold water. "Let's see you survive THAT!" Karlo laughed as he straightened out his flight pattern. He turned the camera back on his face: "A murder AND the release of more dangerous animals than you can shake a stick at! How's that for a show, Gotham?" He slashed at the polar bears' fence, letting them free.

Mim, contrary to Karlo's belief, didn't drown under the water, nor was she at any risk of hypothermia. She surrounded herself with a bubble of air at which she floated at the center while she tried a few different spells to get the clay binding her to crack. Freezing it made it brittle enough to snap apart, and she gladly did so as she reverted to human form, surfacing from the water. "Talk about playing hard to get," she huffed as she dragged herself up onto solid ground.

By that time, she had no bearing on which direction Karlo had gone. Furthermore, several of the animals were getting curious about the new doors in their enclosures, though just as many didn't even notice and remained comfortably in their favorite resting spots.

"When those animals get into the city," Mim realized, "it's going to be absolute chaos! Chaos…THAT I DIDN'T CAUSE!" She stomped on the ground angrily. "I DON'T CARE HOW ADORABLY UGLY YOU ARE! I'M GOING TO MAKE YOU PAY FOR THIS!" She took to the skies once more, this time as a harpy eagle, keeping an eagle eye out for any trace of Karlo.

...

In a jewelry boutique that had been given a shakedown for "protection" by Snatcher not that long ago, a momentous occasion was taking place. A beautiful brunette man bent down on one knee as he slid a diamond onto the finger of a raven-haired man.

"Zac!" the black-haired man gasped. "You shouldn't have!"

"Martin," Zac replied, "will you make me the happiest man on earth?"  
"Oh please tell me you're asking me to marry you oh please tell me you're asking me to marry you – "

"I'm asking you to marry me, Martin."

Martin was stricken speechless, overcome with joy.

"Looks like I've arrived just in time," a new voice said from the doorway. The happy couple and the employee running the counter all turned to see Ayam Aghoul framed there. "I always did love weddings. It's the aftermath of them that I can't stand."

"EXCUSE me?" Martin snapped.

"Oh, don't mind me," Aghoul said, pushing past the pair to get to the employee. "It's none of my business who you pick to be the old ball and chain. I'm just here to collect. You see, the WHAM ARMY counted your protection fee, and you came up short."

"Short?" the employee swallowed hard. "But…there's no way. I gave you everything you asked for!"

And he had, but Aghoul knew that desperate times called for easy lies. "As recompense," he demanded, "I'll be taking everything in the whole store. Try and stop me, and I'll send you all to an early grave."

A new voice, deep and female, cut in from the entryway: "I see we're preparing for a wedding. You know, it's nothing without the bouquet."

Aghoul whipped about to see a redheaded woman, skin tinted the palest of yellow-green, clothed in a dress made of leaves. She walked delicately into the shop. "I don't generally go for rocks," she sighed. "But the new Joker was very clear about what he wanted, and he did promise me a greener Gotham, so what's the harm?" She glared at the employee. "I'm taking the jewels."

Zac and Martin had by that time gotten the good sense to make themselves scarce, bolting down the road.

"Well, aren't you a pretty little thing!" Aghoul gushed. "And so…" He took a whiff of the air, which had become filled with the scent of flowers upon her arrival. "Alive!"

"Wish I could say the same for you," the woman replied with a disgusted scowl.

"I don't suppose YOU'RE looking for another husband?" Aghoul said with a sly smirk as he approached, taking the woman's hand.

She ripped her hand away and slapped Aghoul across the face. "I'm here for business, not pleasure. And when you ask like that, the answer's always going to be no."

"Well, that's a real shame," Aghoul told her, "because that means we'll have to settle who takes home these jewels the messy way."

"Fine by me," the woman said with a smirk. "But I think you'll regret taking on mother nature herself."

"That would be you?"

"In a manner of speaking. Though I'd prefer it if you called me 'Poison Ivy.'"

"I'd prefer to call you my little Venus Flytrap."

"You want Venus Flytraps?" Poison Ivy taunted. A pair of thick plants burst through the floor, sprouting from soil miles below. "You've got Venus Flytraps!" Both plants revealed themselves to have snapping heads ringed with spines; they reached out to try and entrap Aghoul. He backflipped out of the way as the plants tried repeatedly to ensnare him, taking two skull-shaped bombs into hand and launching them. Each Flytrap got a mouthful; they exploded in a shower of green.

The employee had by that time crawled out the back doorway, no longer caring who got the jewels so long as he survived.

"That does it!" Poison Ivy snarled. "You're plant food!"

"I've been called worse!" Aghoul snapped back before realizing the ground was falling away beneath his feet to make way for a new plant. He recognized it immediately as he fell into its cup of a mouth: a pitcher plant. Aghoul was entrapped in a fleshy prison of green as acids began to pool beneath him, stinging his skin, and the cap of the plant slammed shut over top of him, muffling his struggling.

More plants erupted from the floor, taking on the shapes of flowers. "Grab the jewels," Poison Ivy commanded, "and let's go." The flowers began to scoop up as many diamonds, sapphires, and rubies as they could into their blossoms.

The blade of Aghoul's scythe tore through the pitcher plant's skin, and Aghoul rolled unceremoniously onto the carpet, acid dripping from his body. "Summertime is over," he growled. "Winter is coming. And before that, the HARVEST!" He swiped off the heads of several of the flowers with the scythe.

Poison Ivy sighed to herself. "I really didn't want to go the easy route. It's so much less fun."

Vines burst from the floor, taking Aghoul by the wrists and ankles, squeezing so hard he dropped his scythe. Poison Ivy strode right up to him, blowing him a kiss; a wave of miniscule spores, visible only as a pink cloud, was carried on her breath into his face. While breathing wasn't a necessity for Aghoul, he inhaled out of habit, and suddenly, he felt a lot less inclined to struggle, let alone fight.

"You just stay there and think about what you've done," Poison Ivy commanded.

"Yes, my little Venus Flytrap!" Aghoul replied, ready to comply.

He watched docilely as she called up new plants to gather up the rest of the gems. Then, when she'd finished, she bade the plants pull themselves up by the roots to follow her out the door, where she was taken up into the branches of an immense walking tree; the garden of thievery set off down the road.

Within a few moments, Mim burst through the door. "THOUGHT YOU COULD HIDE HERE, DID YOU?" she cackled…only to see that she hadn't found Karlo, but a bound and brainwashed Aghoul. "Ghoulie? What happened to you?"

"She told me to stay here and think about what I did," Aghoul said dreamily. "So I'm staying here and thinking about what I was doing."

"You snap out of it!" Mim huffed, literally snapping her fingers in front of his face. She recognized mind control when she saw it, and so she gave the snap a liberal dose of magic; as it showered Aghoul, he suddenly recalled that Poison Ivy had basically taken his prize right out from beneath his nose. "Why, that little…" He struggled against the vines.

Mim transformed into a wolf, snapping the vines apart with her toothy jaws. Once Aghoul had been freed, she resumed human shape again. "You wouldn't believe it," she huffed. "I found the most delightfully ugly and overconfident man, but just when I thought there could be a spark between us, he humiliated me and swiped my victory! All in the name of this 'new Joker'!"

"I thought the same thing about a beautiful lady who really knew her deadly plants," Aghoul said with a nod. "But she apparently wasn't interested! She was too caught up in using her precious plants to commit a robbery for some new Joker!"

Mim and Aghoul each realized what the other had said; the same name had come up. "Roman will want to know about this," they said as one.

...

Roman, however, was learning about the new Joker the hard way.

Since a grocery store had gone so well last time, Roman had decided to try emptying the tills of another. This one, much like the last one, also featured displays of canned fruit stacked into pyramids, which Roman found amusing. He approached the first register, twirling the Cudgel around one hand. "Well, hello," he greeted.

"Can I help you?" the cashier asked.

"Sure," Roman replied. "You can start by handing over the till."

"Or you'll what?" the cashier replied cockily, smirking.

"Or I'll pull the trigger on this baby," Roman said as he raised the Cudgel, flipping open its barrel, "and your head goes boom."

The cashier began to sweat, popping the register drawer.

At that moment, a heart-shaped grenade fell upon the nearest pyramid of cans. Cans, it turned out, that were not filled with fruit, but with fake snakes. And these snakes, as they sprang free of their prisons in the blast, glowed red-hot as they showered over Roman, each one burning him where it made contact with his skin.

Roman staggered back, crying out from the pain, as a pair of high-pitched laughs sounded from behind him. The snakes settled on the ground, where they fizzled out; Roman turned to see the new Joker and a very familiar Harley striding toward him.

"Oh, great," he sighed. "Can't you just let it go, Harls? I didn't kill your boyfriend. I really wish I did, but I didn't. Now, can you just let me rob this store in peace?"

"Not gonna happen, pal!" Harley snapped. "You think I'm gonna let you off that easy? Well, guess what! I've got a NEW Puddin', and he – "

"Ahem…Harley," Joker interrupted, "this is MY moment. How about letting ME speak to our…well, 'archnemesis' is far too complimentary of a word for THIS lowlife."

"Sorry, Mr. J.," Harley said meekly.

"Roman Torchwick!" Joker greeted, spreading his arms wide. "It looks like you just got torched yourself!"

"Just got torched," Roman repeated, deadpan. "If that's the best you've got, I really don't need to worry about all that much, do I?"

"It seems your name's been on everyone's lips," Joker continued. "Something about a 'WHAM ARMY.' Baby's first criminal undertaking, and he's trying to take over the entire Gotham underworld!"

"This isn't my FIRST criminal undertaking," Roman hissed. "I have experience. Just not where you'd have heard about it."

"Let me guess," Joker replied. "Parallel world?"

"How did you – "

"Funny thing: I come from one of those too!" Joker laughed. "And on my way, I ran into a friend of yours. Tall, mysterious, green, wears a horned hood, was last seen obliterating your base in an eruption of green fire?"

"Great," Roman sighed. "You're working with Dragon Lady. Wait a minute…that's a little TOO convenient. You teaming up with our archnemesis EXACTLY the same time she gets turned against us to go on your side?" He waved toward Harley. "How long have you been planning this shitshow?"

"Ooooh, language!" Joker mocked. "I assure you, it's complete coincidence. Though if you don't like how those events line up, you're REALLY not going to like when your little friends report back in to you about the status quo of their crimes across Gotham."

"Okay, WHAT did you do?"

"Me?" Joker placed a hand on his chest, faking an innocent smile. "I didn't do anything! I've been setting up those cans waiting for YOU all night! And now I'm about to do…oh, what was it you did to the Bat the other day? Beat him up, then let him go so he could tell all his playmates your name and why you're not something to be taken lightly? Well, I'm about to do that to you."

"Oh, no, you don't – "

"Harley?" Joker gestured to Roman. "Would you like to do the honors, seeing as he's the one who put you back on the singles market?"  
"With pleasure!" Harley charged, brandishing a baseball bat.

Roman charged from the opposite direction, and the shaft of the Cudgel collided with the bat. Roman pushed forward; Harley parried, stepping back before shoving at him with her own force, and Roman was the one forced to step back and parry. She faltered, missing a blow, and Roman whacked her in the side with the Cudgel. She followed up by taking advantage of the opening to bludgeon him in the face with the bat. Roman could feel the area around his left eye swelling up as he swung with all his might, the Cudgel just colliding with the wood of the bat.

Harley's purse containing all of her grenades swung back around into Joker's reach. "Don't mind if I do," Joker said to himself as he swiped one. He watched Roman and Harley go back and forth for a little while, mostly an equal match in swordplay, each occasionally striking flesh on the other but not hard enough for either to give up the match. Then, when he got bored, Joker pulled the pin on the grenade and hurled it at Roman.

The blast flung Roman to the ground, and he was easy pickings for Harley, who descended upon him with the bat. She hesitated to bash anywhere that might cause his death, but the majority of his body was fair game: his chest, his limbs. The Cudgel was lost, skidding across the ground.

"Well done, Harley!" Joker congratulated as he stepped in to look down upon Roman. Harley ceased her beating and moved aside to make room for him.

"You cheated," Roman grunted.

"That I did," Joker admitted. "But you would have done the same, wouldn't you? Pot, meet kettle." He withdrew a gun from his jacket, pointing it directly at Roman's head; Roman flinched in fear.

"Mr. J.!" Harley gasped. "You're not gonna – "

Joker pulled the trigger, and Harley and Roman both winced.

A tiny flag reading "BANG" popped out of the end of the gun. Roman stared at it in utter disbelief. "You are not serious," Roman groaned.

"I never am," Joker replied as he moved the gun a few inches lower and pulled the trigger again. The "BANG" flag leapt forward, a sharp spike that impaled itself in Roman's shoulder.

Joker leaned down close to Roman's face to whisper in his ear: "Run along now like a good boy before I decide to bring out some real ammo. And don't forget to tell your friends about me."

Roman knew when to cut his losses. He rolled to the side, picking up the Cudgel and pointing it behind him as he booked it. He let one last blast fly; Joker and Harley dodged to both sides of it as it knocked over a stack of cardboard cereal boxes, showering them in marshmallows.

"Look, Mr. J.!" Harley cried, picking up a plastic car that had fallen out of one of the boxes. "I found the prize in the cereal box! And I want you to have it!" She presented it.

"Oh, really, Harley, you shouldn't have!" Joker cooed, taking the car into his own hands. "You really are a girl after my own heart!"

Outside the store, in the nearest town square, Poison Ivy's walking tree met up with Krank's spinning top, Gearhead's borrowed ride, the winged Karlo, and the Ventriloquist gang. Karlo pointed his camera at the reunion: "You see here the cast of characters of our little drama. Specifically, the villains. I, of course, am the most powerful of them, but Poison Ivy likes her delusions of grandeur."

"I'll just let you go on believing that," Poison Ivy replied.

"You get what we came for?" Gearhead barked.

Poison Ivy waved her hand over the assorted flowers following her; the blossoms opened to reveal the sparkling treasures. "And you?"

"This is the last bike," Gearhead told her.

"We didn't get anything yet," Scarface grunted, "but we killed one of those WHAM ARMY wimps!"

"Looks like we're winning this game!" Krank laughed as he spun around with one of the stolen gowns in his arms.

Karlo's attention was caught by a speeding car in the distance; "Huh?" He turned the camera to see the Batmobile approaching at top speed. "It looks like the wannabe hero of our show is putting in an appearance!"

"Right on time," Gearhead said with a smirk. "Krank. Give me a lift."

One of the mechanical arms of the spinning top reached down to grab Gearhead, pulling him up to the driver's spot. Gearhead's mechanical arm connected to the top, transforming it into a sleek, yellow gyrating weapon of death. "And it's all battery-powered, too," he called down to Ivy.

"That's what I like to hear," Ivy replied before beckoning toward Ventriloquist. Scarface's missing arm was immediately replaced by a sprouting thorny vine; a network of other vines plugged into and squirmed out of his back like tentacles.

"Mr. Scarface!" the Ventriloquist gasped in horror.

"Now this is REAL power!" Scarface laughed.

Karlo shifted into his most monstrous form, the one that had come to be associated with the Clayface moniker, as his hands became twin maces; the video camera settled right in the center of his chest to capture the action. "Bring it on, Batsy," he said with a smirk as the Batmobile parked in the center of the square and the Batman, Robin, and Batgirl exited.

...

"We've searched every inch of this tower!" Yzma cried in exasperation as she paced back and forth before Xayide and the Huntsman in the gardens. "WHERE is he? Even when he's in his right mind, it isn't like Mozenrath to miss an exiling of people he has a grudge against!"

"Too terribly true," the Huntsman agreed.

"There…is a place he may have gone," Xayide realized. "The City of Old Emperors."

"The who-now whatnow?" Yzma repeated.

"Explain," the Huntsman demanded.

"There is a city to which all humans become condemned when they have tried and failed to rule Fantastica," Xayide stated. "Once all of their memories are wished away, they have nothing left, and they are brought to the city by fate so that they may live out the rest of their existence there. Perhaps…Mozenrath found his way to that city over the course of the night."

"How far is it from here?" Yzma asked.

"Variable," Xayide answered. "As is everything else in Fantastica. As I told you, the geography of the land changes. It may be a day's journey. It may be a year's."

"Then pack up for a year," Yzma huffed. "We're going after him."

"You don't understand," Xayide argued. "Once people enter the City of Old Emperors, they never leave."

"Well?" Yzma reminded Xayide. "You've been saying all this time that Mozenrath breaks the rules. He didn't have AURYN! He lost his memory in a different way! You even seem convinced he isn't actually human! Maybe he CAN come back!"

"I am not hopeful," Xayide sighed, "but there is a chance."

"If there is a chance," the Huntsman insisted, "we must take it. Gather your suits of armor and – "

"NO!" Xayide cried, recalling the loss of Bastian and how her armor had gone rogue, trampling her to death. "If we go, it is without the armor. We go on foot."

"In THESE heels?" Yzma protested.

Xayide flicked a finger at Yzma's feet, changing her shoes to sensible boots. "You are now wearing something more suited for walking."

"And less fashionable," Yzma grunted.

"We walk," Xayide insisted.

The Huntsman was in no mood to argue. "What will he remember of us?" he asked, drawing a vial of shimmering liquid from a pocket.

"Very little," Xayide informed him. "But it is likely he will retain the animosity he gained of us when he forgot we were his allies."

The Huntsman's grip on the bottle tightened. He hadn't wanted it to come to that, but he knew a way to relieve Mozenrath of that animosity. It would come at a terrible price, but one that was already mostly paid.

"Moreover, he won't wish to leave the City of Old Emperors," Xayide went on.

"Leave that to me," the Huntsman said, pocketing the bottle.

"What," Yzma spat, "you think you can break the spell with a true love's kiss?"

"Something far less contrite," the Huntsman answered. "We must leave as soon as possible if our destination is truly that indeterminately far away."

"But my shoes…" Yzma pouted as Xayide and the Huntsman began their walk.

"Use the boots you were provided or be left behind," the Huntsman warned her.

Gritting her teeth, Yzma stormed after the pair.

...

Garfield paced back and forth in the warehouse that GRAMPA had set up as base, not nervous but still not looking forward to the eventual reunion of his team. Peter, Mim, and Aghoul had returned around the same time; Garfield was the most banged-up of the three.

The door slammed open, and Roman Torchwick, adorned with a fresh black eye, stormed in. "Oh, boy," Garfield sighed. "Here we go."

Roman's first move was to rip a small metal spike out of his shoulder and fling it across the room. "Mim," he growled, "potion me. Now."

Mim removed a small vial from her purse. "We only have a few of these left, you know," she said as she flung it toward Roman.

Roman nearly fumbled catching it. "Then maybe you shouldn't THROW IT AT ME," he huffed. "I thought we brought a ton of these."

Garfield wasn't about to tell Roman they'd spent one potion already tending his minor scrapes. The others, judging by their silence, agreed this was a good move.

After downing the potion, letting the bleeding around his shoulder heal, Roman yelled, "WHAT THE HELL WAS ALL THAT?"

"So I take it you know," Garfield told him.

"I don't know exactly WHAT happened to the rest of you," Roman said, "but I have it on good authority that SOMETHING did. Now spill."

One by one, the stories came out. Krank breaking into the fashion runway. Gearhead trying to mow down Firefly. Karlo stealing Mim's thunder. Poison Ivy leaving Aghoul tied up and defenseless. And every story but one brought up a name: the new Joker.

"Gearhead might not have brought him up," Garfield pointed out, "but given everything else, it's probably related."

"I'll bet," Roman huffed. "He said as much."

"Who did?" Aghoul asked.

"Who do you think?" Roman groaned. "The fucking new Joker himself."

This earned him four identical cries of "WHAT?"

"You heard me," Roman insisted. "Whoever this clown is that took over as the Joker. First of all, he claims to be from…the same circumstances as me, Mim, Aghoul, and Archie."

"Where is the big guy, anyway?" Garfield wondered out loud.

"Probably still on recon," Roman answered. "If any one of us was safe, it was him. He wasn't trying to pull anything."

"You're not worried at least somewhat that he met with a horrible fate?" Peter prodded.

"Nah," Roman said with a wave of the hand. "He's a big boy. He can take care of himself."

Nobody dared point out that Roman thought the same thing about himself and yet had come home with a spike impaled through his shoulder.

"Anyway," Roman went on, "if he's right, him claiming to be the Joker might be more legit than everyone thinks. But moving on, you're gonna hate who he's teamed up with."

"Don't say Harley Quinn," Peter said hurriedly.

"Well, now I apparently can't say who he's working with," Roman grunted.

Peter and Garfield gave groans of frustration; Garfield followed up with a "Harleeeeeey…whyyyyyyyy…why is your taste in men so terrible?"

"But you know who ELSE he has on his side?" Roman continued. "Remember how it was kind of obvious when Dragon Lady torched our base? Yeah, that's related too."

"MALEFICENT!" Mim huffed, puffs of literal smoke coming from her nose.

"So basically," Roman recapitulated, "we not only have another Joker as top dog of crime humiliating us, but he has a team of superpowered maniacs, your old friend is hanging off his shoulder and feeding him all our weaknesses, and our longtime archnemesis is funding him. This guy needs to go DOWN. HARD."

"Ooooh, is this the part where we kill him?" Mim asked gleefully.

"No," Roman informed her. "He did to me what we did to Batboy. Beat me up and let me go to tell the tale. I say we pay it back in kind. We leave him alive enough to remember us, to tell all his flunkies about us, and to live with the knowledge that we cleaned his clock."

"But I want to kill him," Mim pouted.

"Isn't it going to be SO much more satisfying to let him live a life of COMPLETE HUMILIATION?" Roman egged on. "If you REALLY want to kill somebody, we'll pick one of the flunkies. The clay guy."  
"Can't kill him," Mim reminded Roman. "I tried. Also, I'm not letting a piece of man like THAT go to waste."

"Then we kill the car guy," Roman sighed.

"Now, THAT I can get behind," Garfield agreed.

"So, how do we do it?" Roman asked.

"You're the one bent on unseating him," Aghoul reminded Roman. "Not to mention the de facto leader of this operation. Shouldn't YOU have the plan?"  
"If I may interrupt," Peter brought up, "I spent some time at the Fourth Circle listening in on current events. That was how I learned about the fashion show. There was also talk of a certain grand unveiling tomorrow at the history museum. Pottery that dates back to the Roman Empire. Everyone wanted to get their paws on it, but was talking about how security would apparently be too high. Now, I don't think it'll be too high for two sorcerers, two master arsonists, a silver-tongued negotiator, and a nimble contortionist. Do you?"

"Not one bit," Roman agreed.

"But here's the thing," Garfield pointed out. "No matter where we go, if we make any kind of fuss, the Bat is going to follow."

"Maybe not," Roman realized. "There's only one of him."

"Well, there are his two little brats," Aghoul pointed out.

"Yeah, but they're a team unit," Roman reminded him. "Say we got them tied up somewhere else. For example, if Gar decides to vandalize a…no, wait. Wait. Idea incoming."

"This is either going to be the best or the worst idea," Aghoul whispered to Mim. "There is no in-between."

"It'll be entertaining either way," Mim whispered back.

"We get another villain to do the dirty work," Roman suggested. "Somebody just big-time enough to keep Batboy busy."

"Okay, sure," Garfield agreed, "but I absolutely refuse to work with Riddler, Penguin, or Mr. Freeze."

"So who's left?" Roman asked.

"That's big enough to actually distract the Batman?" Peter answered. "Riddler, Penguin, and Mr. Freeze."

"There's Catwoman!" Garfield argued. "She can distract him in more ways than one."

"You know if we involve her, she's only going to team up with him and come after us," Peter pointed out.

"Ugh," Garfield groaned. "I wish you weren't right. Okay, so what we have left is three people I'd rather not touch with a ten foot pole, NONE OF WHICH will agree to work with the WHAM ARMY."

"Unless they don't know they're working with the WHAM ARMY," Roman muttered. "There's one person we can deploy to ask for a favor that they CAN'T refuse. And that's Madame Frou Frou."

"Madame Who…Who?" Garfield asked.

"Archie as a woman," Roman answered. "If anybody can talk one of those jerks into doing something for us without him realizing he's doing something for us, it's Archie. Who, by the way, I am still not worried about."

"Then why bring it up?" Peter asked.

Because it's been a while, Roman thought, and my thoughts might actually be getting the better of me. "End of discussion: he. Is. FINE."

The door to the warehouse slammed open again. "See?" Roman said as he turned around. "There he is right n – HOLY SHIT!"

Snatcher collapsed to his knees, holding onto the doorknob so as not to fall completely over. "I'm all right," he gasped. "Just…need a moment." He was obviously in worse condition than Roman had been; not one but both eyes were blackened, and rips and tears in his clothing gave away other bruises. His entire demeanor portrayed fatigue, and his breathing was heavy.

"Shit, shit, shit…" Roman hurried over to Snatcher's side, kneeling next to him. "What did they DO to you?"

"Just roughed me up a bit," Snatcher tried to assure him. "Tried to strangle me, but I fooled them. Made them think they'd already killed me, and they didn't have the stomach to make sure I was good and finished off."

The abrasions on Snatcher's neck became all the more obvious to Roman. He turned back to Mim, screaming, "POTION! NOW!"

Mim withdrew a bottle from her enchanted purse, drawing back her hand –

"And don't THROW IT!"

Mim calmly walked the potion over to Roman, who handed it to Snatcher. Snatcher couldn't hide the desperation with which he downed the contents of the bottle. "That's…much better," he sighed as he set about standing up.

Roman wrapped an arm around Snatcher, propping him up as he stood. "Easy – "

"I'm perfectly all right, Torchwick. It's…appreciated, nonetheless."

Roman let go of Snatcher, who straightened out his clothing as best he could. "I suppose in the time I've been gone, you've already concocted a revenge scheme against our new foe," Snatcher commented.

"Yeah," Roman said with a nod. "We did. There's just…one change of plans."

"And what is that?"  
Roman's face set in a hard scowl. "We're definitely killing him."

...

Xayide, Yzma, and the Huntsman's journey had taken them across lands both rough and calm, populated and empty. They lost track of how long they had been walking. They finished up the rations they had brought with them and strongarmed more food out of local shop owners. It seemed as though they had been walking for three years, but somehow, the Huntsman had the feeling it had been no more than a few hours by the time standards of most worlds.

At last, they came upon a bleak marshland, clouded in mist and studded with crooked trees that, in the misty distance, looked at first like great crooked creatures ready to shamble over to Yzma, Xayide, and the Huntsman and cause them harm; the Huntsman drew his weapon before realizing the true nature of the shapes.

Xayide was stricken with grief. "We have reached the Swamps of Sadness." Yzma looked to her just in time to see a tear escape Xayide's eye and travel down the length of her face.

"What?" Yzma sighed. "Did your horse die here or something?"

"No," Xayide said softly. "I have just now realized what my fate is to be."

"Our fate is to find Mozenrath," the Huntsman insisted. "Is the City of Old Emperors somewhere in this swampland?"

"No," Xayide answered. "But I fear we may not survive the crossing. The Swamps of Sadness engulf all who are swallowed by the sadness that pervades. Travelers of this place cease to remember their purpose or meaning, only seeing the worst outcome."

"Can we go around it?" the Huntsman asked. "Or will this world's shifting geography put it back in our path?"

"I think you know the answer to that as well as I," Xayide told him.

"Then the only way is through," the Huntsman stated.

"Or we could forsake our quest," Xayide suggested. "Mozenrath is as good as lost. There is a good chance that even if we reached the city, we could not recover him. I respected him – no, more than that. I was…as fond of him as it is possible for me to be, and that is not much, but it is still something. He carried with him my hopes and dreams for conquest of Fantastica, and with him, those hopes and dreams have died. If we attempt to cross the Swamps of Sadness now, I fear that the two of you, having such proximity to him as you have, will be overcome by the loss of him and find yourself sinking – Yzma, STOP!"

Yzma had already begun to storm into the swampland. "For once," she grumbled, "I'm actually glad for these ugly boots."

"Huntsman," Xayide implored, "do not cross. I know of your attachment to Mozenrath, and your longing for him will surely – "

"Drive me forward and across the swamps," the Huntsman interrupted. "I am in no danger. It seems to me that the one you are most truly worried about is – "

"I am not," Xayide insisted. "I worry for no one. Least of all myself."

"Perhaps that is what you believe," the Huntsman said before starting out after Yzma through the sticky swamp.

Xayide inhaled, then exhaled. She knew what fate Fantastica had planned for her, and she realized she might as well succumb to it. She had already cheated death once, and that was more than enough. She walked after the Huntsman, gently lifting her skirts to avoid dampening them in the swamps for as long as she could.

Which was longer than she figured. Focusing only on following the two people ahead of her – and listening to one of them gripe about how much she hated swamps of all sorts – she made it a fair ways into the swamp before she realized both of her shoes had been sucked off as though by a toothless mouth. She had to work harder and harder to pull up her feet, but why even do so, when there was simply no way she could ever fulfill her desires of conquest, and without that, she was empty? Bastian had failed her. Mozenrath had failed her. She had failed herself by betting on either of them, no matter their similarities, no matter their differences. Fantastica's natural order was simply not something to mess with, and Xayide had tried to advise someone to do so twice. Her worst mistake was on the second go-around, when she had actually let herself come to respect Mozenrath.

She realized she had stopped walking. She had sunken in up to her knees.

"How much further through these infernal swamps?" Yzma growled. "Xayide!"

Xayide didn't dare answer, tilting her face upward in haughty pride. If she were going to perish, she would go out without betraying her weakness to her companions.

The Huntsman was the first to turn and see that she was sinking. "Xayide!" He recoiled in shock.

"And WHAT do you think you're doing, sinking when we need you?" Yzma hissed, scurrying right up to the Huntsman's side.

"Doing what is destined," Xayide answered. "As it happened before, it shall happen again, and I shall meet my fate with grace."

"The death Mozenrath brought you back from," the Huntsman realized. "It was here."

"No," Xayide corrected. "When Bastian was overthrown as Emperor, I followed his trail all the way to the City of Old Emperors. Once I realized he had either become lost within or found his way back to his own world, taking with him my chances of ever dominating at his side, my armor stopped following my will. The suits walked on without my permission. When I called them back to me, they trampled me to death."

"You KNEW they could malfunction like that," Yzma barked, "and you LET US RIDE AROUND WITH THEM THIS WHOLE TIME? WE COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED THE SAME WAY!"

"No," the Huntsman realized. "It wasn't a malfunction." He looked Xayide dead in her mismatched eyes. "They didn't escape you at all. You lost sight of your path, and you willed yourself dead, seeing no other fate for yourself."

Xayide did not answer.

"And now it is happening to you yet again," the Huntsman observed. "The sadness of the swamps is playing upon this belief you have that Mozenrath is truly lost to us forever. You have lost the empire yet again, and now, you wish to die."

By that time, Xayide was in up to her waist. "Perhaps there is truth in what you say," she admitted. "See it not as sentiment, but as a lack of purpose. I cannot simply return to Horok. I will always wish for more, but each time I choose someone to ascend to the throne, that person shall meet the same fate. I was always meant to be the villain of the story. What can happen to the villain besides defeat?"

To Xayide's surprise, Yzma darted forth, yelling, "GRAB HER BEFORE SHE SINKS ANY FURTHER!" Yzma's bony fingers settled around Xayide's forearms, digging in. The Huntsman knelt near Xayide, placing his hands just above her waist, the lowest he could without plunging into the swamps, and attempted – futilely – to hoist Xayide upward. Failing that, he simply held on, refusing to let her go lower.

"Why do you insist on attempting to save me?" Xayide asked, baffled.

"Because you, like most people we hire, have the ANNOYING habit of being likable and useful when we really don't need anyone else around," Yzma sighed.

"You are a powerful mage, a skilled diplomat, and a trusted ally," the Huntsman added. "Think of it not as sentiment, but as a desire not to lose potential."

"I have perhaps asked the wrong question," Xayide realized. "How is it that the two of you have not yet sunk even a little?"

"I believe the answer is simple," the Huntsman told her, thinking about how what he was about to say applied not only to himself and Yzma, but to Mozenrath, to Mim, to Aghoul, to Roman, to Snatcher. "We seem not to know when to give up."

"We are GETTING you out of this swamp," Yzma insisted, "we are GETTING Mozenrath, we are FIXING whatever in his mind is broken, and we are going home, but NOT empty-handed! I swear, we are not leaving this world without SOMETHING to show for it! We've been through too much! I demand this world pay us for it!"

"You cannot demand Fantastica pay anything," Xayide replied. "You really do not know when enough is enough, do you?"

"If it is truly your wish to sink, then you may sink," the Huntsman informed Xayide. "However, it seems to me your talents would perhaps be better suited among our company. You may never advise the ruler of Fantastica, but there are countless other worlds awaiting us that we may take advantage of. There is something for you to rule. Now make up your mind before we waste further time. Are you going to sink here, or are you going to come with us?"

Xayide was simply awestruck. The Huntsman and Yzma had to be complete and utter fools to have such hope in them that they could withstand the swamps. But if they had hope, perhaps there was reason for her to do so as well. And the extension of an invitation by the Huntsman didn't hurt. It was another path besides death or falling into a neverendingly repeating cycle. She struggled, kicking her feet in the mire, and she was able to propel herself upward a little bit.

Sensing this, the Huntsman and Yzma both hauled upward, and Xayide was pulled free, coated in slime and grime, to stand upon the surface of the swamps. "You only get one of those," Yzma informed her. "Next time, we just let you sink."  
"You are both fools," Xayide practically whispered.

"Yzma, perhaps," the Huntsman told her. "I am no fool. And chasing Mozenrath is no fool's errand." He resumed his path forward, and Yzma followed.

Xayide set out after them with renewed vigor, her bare feet squelching against the surface of the swamp but never once sinking in, and after some time, they hit solid earth at the other side.

...

Alfred Pennyworth was not surprised to see Bruce Wayne, Barbara Gordon, and Dick Grayson stumble into the living room of Wayne Manor in torn costumes, sporting several fresh bruises. He was nonetheless concerned. "Bad night?"

Barbara flopped down on the couch. "Would you believe Gearhead, Cosmo Krank, Poison Ivy, the Ventriloquist, AND Clayface all at the same time?"

"Move over!" Dick commanded; Barbara shuffled to make just enough room for him to rest there as well. "We tried our best, but they kicked our butts."

"We just need to strategize," Bruce said, settling into a chair. "We haven't had to deal with all five of them before. Now that we know what we're up against – "

"Didn't you guys take on way more villains than that at once that one time with Rumor?" Barbara asked.

"We had a tactical advantage," Bruce admitted. "Namely that our foes kept getting in each other's way. We also had cells to imprison them in open and at the ready. This time, they had a field advantage. Especially with Gearhead having access to Krank's toys." Bruce shifted, sitting up a little straighter. "Something about this doesn't seem right. They don't have anything in common except that they've all served time in Arkham."

"Maybe they just made a lot of friends in there," Dick suggested.

"Pam, making random friends?" Barbara scoffed. "Not her scene. Not unless all of them declared they were going to eliminate greenhouse gases."

"Well, maybe that's what happened," Dick replied.

"I've seen the reports of Krank Co.'s pollution output," Bruce pointed out. "It isn't likely. And all this right after Roman Torchwick showed up."

"You think it's related to him?" Barbara asked.

"I definitely don't think we should rule it out," Bruce insisted.

"I highly doubt it's a mystery you'll solve tonight," Alfred broke in. "Especially in your current condition. You'll want to ice those bruises. And I see I have my work cut out for me in repairing your costumes. Might I suggest taking your minds off the case with a little television?"

"TV would be great right now," Dick sighed. "Mind turning it on?"

"The remote is literally right next to you," Barbara groaned, spying the control balanced on the arm of the couch.

Dick made a show of trying to lift his arm. "Oh, owwwww…my arm…hurts…too…much…to move…"

"Gimme that." Barbara sat up, reached across Dick, and swiped the remote, turning on the television.

The set flickered to life just as an advertisement began to play. Scenes of the interior of a history museum panned across the screen. A calm, British female voice stated, "The Judovits-Sabara History Museum is proud to host the traveling exhibit of a lifetime." The camera focused on several pieces of exquisite pottery. "Artifacts uncovered that date back to the Roman Empire will be on display for your viewing pleasure. These items are practically priceless."

"Well, THAT'S an invitation for supervillains," Dick commented.

"You're right," Bruce realized. "Between Roman Torchwick's gang and the lineup we faced tonight – which may or may not be the same thing – they're not going to leave this alone. We have to be on our guard."

"Maybe we should call for backup," Barbara suggested, talking over the rest of the exposition about the pottery. "You do have a few friends who can pack a bigger punch, right?"

"Right," Bruce said with a nod. "And it just might be time to ask for a helping hand."

They all missed when the advertisement ended, a chipper male voice stating that it had been brought to television by Gwynplane Entertainment. It wouldn't have meant anything to the Bruce Wayne of that world, anyhow.

...

From high above Wayne Manor, the Joker smiled as he watched the television screen set in the dash of his airship broadcast the advertisement he and Maleficent had recorded. The Roman artifacts were all items Maleficent had conjured, and the Joker was simply waiting for the perfect moment to slip them all inside the museum.

"The thing about the Roman Empire," he cackled, "is that it always falls."

...

The small army of heroes from Agrabah arrived at the citadel doors unscathed; Kairi's map and Papyrus' puzzling had brought them through the city safely. Their next challenge was how to enter the citadel without detection.

Genie whipped up a small telescope that he put up to the immense double doors, eyeing the other end; it allowed him to see through into the atrium hall, which was empty. "Coast is clear!"

Nora shoved the doors open, and the band stepped inside. "This place looks enormous!" Vida commented.

"Maybe we should split up to search," Sora suggested. "But into groups, so we'll still be safe."

"Good plan!" Ruby gave him a thumbs-up.

"We're sort of split into groups already," Nick pointed out. "Mystic Rangers for one, alicorns for another, Keybearers, Beacon kids, and the Agrabanians. That leaves Stork, Papyrus, and Yuffie."

"I'll go with Nora!" Yuffie burst out. She then hoped no one would pay any mind to how definitively she had screamed her choice; no one did.

"I'VE NEVER HAD TO PICK FROM THIS MANY FRIENDS TO GO WITH BEFORE!" Papyrus realized. "I BELIEVE I SHALL GO WITH…" He spun round and round in circles like a top, making a point of not looking at his surroundings. When he halted, he extended a hand, pointing at the person in front of him. "YOU! SORA!"

"I'm with Sora too," Stork decided.

"Should we really split up without any way to communicate?" Riku wondered out loud. "If any one of us finds Even or runs into trouble, we need to be able to call everyone else."

"Got it covered!" Genie held out a hand, fanning out five small hand mirrors. "Magic mirrors! Perfect for communication! Now, if you add three people to our new Friends, Family, and Heroic Allies plan, you get the fourth completely free!"

Sora, Ruby, Aladdin, Luna, and Nick each took a mirror. "That's more like it," Sora muttered as he stored the mirror away using the same technique Kairi had used to carry her sketchbook.

"We must hurry," Luna insisted.

Sora, Riku, Kairi, Stork, and Papyrus went one way. Ruby, Jaune, Nora, Ren, and Yuffie another. Cadance and Luna another. Aladdin, Jasmine, Abu, Sadira, and Genie another. And Nick, Vida, Madison, Xander, and Chip another.

Sora's band of five headed upward. "If I was an evil villain…" Sora began.

"Can't see that ever happening," Kairi joked.

"Let's face it," Stork added. "The only person here who I'd have a harder time believing going evil is Papyrus. Actually, the only person here who'd go evil is probably me."

"You'd be surprised," Riku replied.

"What," Stork asked, "you have blood on your hands?"  
"Some," Riku replied. "Yours?"

"A little."

"TELL US MORE ABOUT THIS EVEN," Papyrus suggested. "WHAT EXACTLY ARE WE LOOKING FOR?"

"Well, we're looking for someone blond and very tall, with green eyes," Kairi answered. "But if you want to know what he was really LIKE…I didn't know him for all that long when I was younger. And I barely got to know him again in the Restoration Committee. But he was very strict, and he had a short temper. He was NEVER sentimental. He was also VERY smart. It's a close call between whether he or Ienzo read more books. Even knew a little bit about everything."

"I remember him better as Vexen," Riku volunteered. "Back then, he was cold, literally and figuratively. He saw everyone as part of his grand experiment. He was smug, and even though he didn't have a heart, I think he felt the closest thing he could feel to joy when he outsmarted someone or beat them in a fight."

"But that was him as a Nobody," Kairi added. "Things have changed now. HE'S changed. He always was a part of my Radiant Garden family, and that's what he is now. If Ienzo or I was captured by Maleficent, he'd be coming to save us, the same way we're doing for him."

"I DO HOPE WE FIND HIM," Papyrus said solemnly.

"I'm starting to think that's not likely," Stork sighed. "It's a miracle any of the other Storm Hawks survived Maleficent. If she wanted him dead, then he's d – "

Papyrus elbowed Stork hard in the stomach, and Stork realized what he was doing. "D…efinitely got a chance," he corrected. "A small chance, but a chance."

"I know what you meant," Kairi said rather mournfully, "but thank you anyway."

A muffled voice suddenly sounded from beyond a closed door: "Hello? HELLO! Who's out there? Somebody, help me!"

"SOMEONE NEEDS OUR HELP!" Papyrus cried, turning toward the door.

Stork seized him by the shoulders. "That is DEFINITELY a trap!"

"We have to take the chance anyway!" Sora said as he rushed past, throwing open the door.

A long chamber lay beyond, with a tall, thick sparkling crystal reaching from floor to ceiling at the far end. Within that crystal, a figure was trapped, pounding on the inside of the stone with a fist and looking ever more worried.

"EVEN!" Kairi cried, bolting toward the crystal; Sora, Riku, Papyrus, and Stork followed.

"Kairi?" Even said in shock, ceasing his banging on the stone. "Is it really you?"

"It's me," Kairi confirmed, placing a hand on the outside of the crystal. "I'm here. I came to save you."

"Thank goodness," Even sighed. "But what about Maleficent's allies? How did you make it past them?"

"With a little luck and some good friends," Kairi said with a smile.

"If I'd have known you'd try to invade the Black Sands to save me…" Even shook his head. "I suppose there's no sense in worrying about you. You're already here." He put his own hand up on the inside of the crystal, matching the position of Kairi's on the outside. "And you're safe."

"How are we supposed to get you out of there?" Sora asked.

"It's very simple, really," Even explained, lowering his hand. "This is a Crystal of Ix. It is designed for the sole purpose of holding anyone or anything with a fair amount of magic in it. I'm afraid my ice powers made this an optimal prison for me. There is a very simple incantation to let me out, but unfortunately, I can't use it on myself. One of you will have to cast it. It will be a simple matter, though."

"Tell us!" Kairi urged.

"Wait a minute," Stork interrupted before Even could open his mouth again. "Can we have a…Keybearer-Papyrus-Stork conference for a second?"

"I don't see why that's necessary," Even remarked.

"Why can't we just let him out?" Sora asked.

"I will TELL you in the CONFERENCE," Stork said with gritted teeth, making a jerking motion with his head toward the far wall of the room.

Sora, Kairi, Riku, and Papyrus followed him toward that wall, where Stork spoke in a hushed tone. "Okay, that guy is nothing like what Kairi just described," he hissed. "Didn't you just say Even was supposed to be strict, short-tempered, and not sentimental?"

"He is acting a little weird for Even," Sora realized. "But being Maleficent's prisoner would bring that side out of anyone."

"I'm not so sure," Riku countered. "Something about this isn't right. Stork's onto something. Even doesn't sound like himself at all."

"ARE YOU SUGGESTING IT ISN'T HIM?" Papyrus asked.

"Who else could it be?" Sora added.

"I don't know!" Stork hissed. "But I'm still one hundred percent certain this is a trap, and if we let him out, we're about to seal our horrible, horrible fate!"

"There are plenty of spells that could make anyone look like someone else," Riku added.

"A prisoner of Maleficent?" Sora countered. "Why would one of our enemies be locked up inside a crystal? Why would they need US to let them out?"

"I don't know!" Stork reiterated. "All I know is a trap when I see one!"

"I can sense something wrong," Riku added. "There's too much Darkness in this place."

"Of course something's wrong!" Sora told him. "This is one of Maleficent's strongholds, and it used to be Mozenrath's! There's no way there WOULDN'T be Darkness here!"

"I don't think we should let him out," Riku stated.

"What do you want to do instead?" Sora asked. "Just leave him? What if it is the real Even, and we'd be abandoning him?"  
"Well…I…" Riku didn't have an answer for that.

"I SAY WE LET HIM OUT!" Papyrus emphasized.

"Two for, two against," Stork counted up. "Kairi?" He already knew, however, what she was going to say.

"We have to let him out," Kairi stated firmly. "The only reason he's acting weird is because he's afraid. We can't just leave him behind."

Stork sighed. "All right. Just don't say I didn't warn you."

"What are you blabbering about over there?" Even barked. "Hurry up and free me!"

"That does sound more like the Even we know," Riku admitted.

They turned back to the crystal. "What should we do?" Kairi asked.

"Lay your hand on the crystal," Even commanded. "The incantation is 'Ixtabor.'"

Meanwhile, Aladdin, Jasmine, Genie, and Sadira, with Abu riding on Aladdin's shoulder, crept through the lower levels of the citadel. A sudden movement ahead startled all of them.

"Don't worry," Cadance said as she and Luna came into view, horns aglow. "It's only us."

"We felt as though it made the most sense for a dungeon for prisoners to be located in the basement," Luna added.

"Good call," Aladdin said with a nod. He looked to a small locked door, inset with a metal grate, in the adjacent wall. "I think you're onto something."

Abu quickly fished a lockpick from his vest, scrambling to the door. As soon as he inserted the pick, he was wracked with a powerful magical shock.

"ABU!" the others cried as the monkey fell limply to the ground.

Abu put up a hand and squeaked something that sounded like "I'm okay."

"There's no use trying to get through that with any ordinary lockpick," a nasal voice sounded from the other side. "There are at least three layers of magic keeping us in here."

"It can't be," Jasmine said softly.

"Someone you know?" Luna asked.

"Someone they KNOW?" the voice parroted. "Why, only one of their greatest archfoes! None other than Mechanicles, greatest of the great Greek geniuses! As well as his imbecilic past cohort."

"Hey!" another voice barked. "NOBODY calls me a COHORT!"

A deep voice replied, "It simply means an acquaintance. I would take more offense to 'imbecilic.'"

"No way," Sadira said, stunned.

"More of your enemies?" Cadance asked.

"Abis Mal and Haroud Hazi Bin," Jasmine confirmed. "All three of them have tried to take over or destroy Agrabah more times than any of us can count."

"I'm here, too," another voice sounded.

"Nobody CARES about you!" Abis Mal barked. "I still don't even know what you're doing in here with the rest of us! Did you ever even try to take over Agrabah ONCE?"  
"I tried stealing from it multiple times," the fourth voice recounted. "Not to mention being contracted to steal the Sultan himself."

"You're a disgrace," Mechanicles snapped. "Highly unmemorable. I can't even be bothered to remember your name."

"FOR THE LAST TIME, IT IS AMIN DAMOOLA!"

"These enemies of Agrabah seem to all be named after very bad puns," Cadance whispered to Luna.

"All right, what's the trick here?" Genie asked. "How is you being locked up down here supposed to kill us all THIS time?"

"This isn't one of OUR plans!" Mechanicles insisted. "This is the result of a failed attempt to dethrone Maleficent! We forged the grandest alliance of thieves and conquerors ever seen in the Seven Deserts! But look what's become of us!"

"There's a bunch more of us down here," Abis Mal spat. "Bet that makes ya feel all smug, Aladdin. All but four of your worst enemies locked up so you don't have to do any of the dirty work."

"All but four?" Aladdin repeated. "Jafar, Mozenrath…who else?"

"Jafar?" Amin said in a panic. "JAFAR? I thought he was dead!"

"Who do you think has been patrolling the cells since the takeover, idiot?" Abis Mal snapped.

"I had thought four seemed like a high number…" Amin muttered.

"Ayam Aghoul deserted us when we were overpowered," Haroud explained. "His wives, however, were captured and remain in these very cells. I can imagine they're none too happy with him."

"Wait," Sadira interrupted. "So did you happen to see if there was anybody else down here? Like maybe a…"

"A tall, blond man," Luna recalled from a description Kairi had given her. "He wields the power of ice."

"Say wha?" Abis Mal replied. "There's nobody down here but us so-called scourges of the Seven Deserts."

"Who's the fourth person who got away?" Jasmine asked.

"She didn't get away," Mechanicles explained. "She was simply imprisoned somewhere else with higher anti-magical security. Somewhere in the upper levels, I believe."

"This better not be who I think it is," Aladdin stated, feeling his stomach sinking.

Light shimmered around Even as he stepped free of his crystal prison. "Thank you, Kairi," he said, sounding quite grateful. "I knew I could count on you."

"I'm just glad you're okay!" Kairi wrapped Even in a tight embrace.

"As am I," Even insisted, his fingers reaching up to weave into Kairi's long, red hair. "As am I."

"Sora!" Sora's mirror cried out with Aladdin's voice. "Sora, can you hear me?"

Sora brought out the mirror, looking at a very panicked Aladdin. "What's going on?"  
"There's a powerful evil spirit locked away somewhere up there," Aladdin explained. "She'll use any trick she can to get you to set her free. Be careful!"

Too late, Kairi felt the body in her arms change shape. The hand in her hair tightened its grip, latching onto her locks and yanking. Kairi let go, startled by the sudden pain; she was tossed aside, thrown with immense force against the wall by her hair.

"I knew I could count on you," a new voice said, a deep female voice. "That is, to be sentimental enough to fall for that trick!"

Sora, Riku, Papyrus, and Stork all flinched, backing away one step by instinct. Sora and Riku's blades leapt to their hands; Papyrus called several bones to hover in midair before him. Stork merely quivered, frozen in place. Kairi looked up to see the true form of the one who had disguised herself as Even: a tall, anthropomorphic black cat clothed in a bodice and skirt of crimson.

"Who are you?" Kairi asked, somewhere between terrified and livid.

"My name is Mirage!" the cat cackled. "Embodiment of all that is evil! I must say, that crystal was uncomfortable. I suppose I owe you my thanks…but I'm not going to give them to you. Instead, I'm going to let you know the hard way just how bad of an idea letting me out was."

Sora and Riku charged; Papyrus surrounded each of them in a circling wall of defensive bones. As both boys struck out with their Keyblades, Mirage swiped the air with her hand, making a great green claw mark of energy that threw both Sora and Riku back across the room.

"We're dead," Stork muttered, quivering even harder. "We're dead we're dead we're dead – "

"Oh, even I know taking on three Keybearers is a bad move," Mirage commented. "But I know someone that will make short work of you." She snapped her fingers.

Five large crimson cats, each as high as Mirage's waist, manifested out of thin air. Their fur was aflame, and they yowled with hunger. Cackling madly, Mirage vanished.

Kairi scrambled to her feet, calling up her Keyblade. One of the flame-covered cats lunged, and she knocked it back with her weapon. Sora and Riku had also regained their balance, just in time to fend off attacks from two more of the beasts. Papyrus flicked bones left and right, calling up walls of them to stymie the cats.

However, it was Stork they seemed most interested in. Three of them backed him up against a wall, menacing him with swiping claws and snapping jaws. Stork pressed himself against the wall so hard he wished he could simply be absorbed into it, trying to figure out how to attack something that was perpetually on fire when he had no weapon. He had an aerosol can of bug spray tucked away on his person, but he knew that would only make the flames worse.

He then observed a horrifying phenomenon: the cats that had him cornered were growing in size. They became nearly as tall as the room itself before reaching out with massive paws to swipe at Sora, Riku, Kairi, Papyrus, and Stork.

"Sora!" Riku yelled. "Kairi! Blizzard, now!"

All three Keybearers pointed their weapons at one of the large cats, screaming, "ICE!"

Frost and chips of ice hailed upon the cat, but this had no effect on its fire. It charged Papyrus, who turned and bolted, knowing one strike with intent to kill could spell his doom. The cat swung a paw toward him.

Riku sped into the paw's path, taking the brunt of it; he was flung against the wall, flames lighting up his clothes.

"RIKU!" Sora, Kairi, Papyrus, and Stork yelled.

Riku quickly doused the fire upon his clothes; Blizzard seemed to work on the flames once they were separated from the cats. "GO!" he yelled, launching into a Dark Splicer just long enough to make a mad dash for the exit.

As he, Sora, Papyrus, Stork, and Kairi charged into the hall, Sora's mirror was suddenly filled with voices crying out. He held up the mirror, saying in a panic, "What's happening? What's wrong?"  
The perspective began with Nick: "We're surrounded by cats! They're on fire! We can't fight them! Vida and Maddie already tried to use wind and water on them, but nothing worked!"

"We have cats too!" Ruby yelled, the mirror switching to her perspective. "Our weapons don't work on them!"

"Only one thing does!" Aladdin announced, his face filling the mirror. "They feed on fear! We have to not be afraid!"

"NOT BE AFRAID?" Stork yelped, not realizing he'd said it at the same time as Chip and Jaune.

"That's it?" Sora replied. "That's easy!"

By that time, the giant cats, as well as their smaller companions, had burst through the wall, barreling down the hall. Sora turned and stood still. "I'M NOT AFRAID OF YOU!" he yelled, pointing his blade at them.

The cats skidded to a halt and began to grow smaller.

"Nice one, Sora!" Riku complimented. He took his place next to Sora: "He's not afraid, and neither am I!"

"Me either!" Kairi stated as she joined them.

"ME EITHER!" Papyrus added.

But the cats knew exactly where to get their fix. Now reduced to their original size, they leapt completely over this wall of four, making a beeline for Stork. As they approached him, they began to grow again. One, large enough to hit Stork with a paw, did so, almost doubling in size in the process; Stork was caught by another cat and volleyed right back.

"STORK!" Sora yelled. "YOU HAVE TO NOT BE AFRAID OF – "

"I!" Stork yelled back as he was passed from cat to cat. "KNOW! THAT! OW! I! YEEEEEEP! CAN'T!"

"We have to save him and get out of here!" Riku decided. "They're only going to get stronger off his fear!" He made use of the Darkness once more to splice forward, catching Stork in between volleys and propelling him out of the range of the cats. He quickly doused the flames that Stork had been picking up with a light Blizzard spell.

Kairi and Sora stood on either side of Papyrus, casting Blizzara to either side and forming a pair of ice walls that protected the trio as they barreled after Stork and Riku.

"We can't do it!" Nick yelled through the mirror. "They're getting too powerful!"

"For us too!" Ruby added. "We can't be as not afraid as we'd like to be!"

"We're making a run for it!" Sora informed the rest. "Just get to the door!"

"What about Even?" Ruby asked.

"He is not here," Luna answered. "We are, of course, taking the word of thieves and destroyers, but it seems to be sound."

More cats sprang up throughout the halls of the citadel. When the group met up at the door, doing a quick head count to make sure none were missing, they took off out the door.

"The magic detectors!" Sora realized. "They're gonna pick us up, and we don't have a plan!"

"I think we have bigger problems," Stork pointed out.

The streets were lined with the fiery cats into the distance; more and more spawned at the behest of Mirage.

"Get ready for a fight!" Nick said, holding out his sword.

"This might actually work to our advantage," Ren realized, looking up.

"HOW?" Jaune and Stork practically shrieked.

"The cats are setting off the crystals," Ren explained. "If they've infested the whole city, that means every crystal is going off and there's nothing to pinpoint us. The cats can be our cover. Which means all we have to worry about…" He cocked both pistols of Stormflower at the cats already approaching. "Is them."

"We'll take a roundabout route anyway!" Jasmine decided. "We can't have Jafar finding us out now!"

"GO!" Sora yelled, and the entire troop charged out to meet the horde of cats and fight past them as quickly as they could.

It took several back alleys and a battle against almost innumerable cats, but soon they were out of the city, and no felines seemed to have shown up outside the city limits. "Looks like they're staying in the Black Sands," Aladdin remarked. He allowed himself a smirk: "That oughta give Jafar something inconvenient to put on his to-do list."

"Let's just get back home!" Sadira insisted.

As the group made haste back to Agrabah, Stork couldn't help but feel as though his fears had sabotaged all of his newfound friends and allies, and he had the sense of being simply rotten, through and through.


	34. The Last Laugh

34\. The Last Laugh

Snipe's defeat in the moto-jousting ring had left him quite sour toward Wuya, Neo, and Irmaplotz, and he made a point of following them around and finding new challenges for him to prove his superiority to them. "I bet you can't burp the alphabet backwards!" he boasted to the trio, letting out a huge belch that sounded like a "Z," than a "Y," than an "X." After that, he had to stop and think. "Uhhh…"

This left Irmaplotz a window to fill in with burps of her own: "W-V-U-T-S-R-Q – "

"AaaAAAAARGH!" Snipe gritted his teeth in rage. "I'll find something! There are LOTS of things I can do better than you three! You'll see!" He turned and stormed away, muttering to himself. "Bunch of girls…"

"Impressive," Wuya told Irmaplotz. "Now don't ever do that again." Neo punctuated this with a nod.

"I don't plan on it," Irmaplotz replied.

Snipe turned a corner to find Ravess waiting for him. "Brother," she stated coldly.

"Not in the mood for it, Ravess!" Snipe snapped, attempting to step around her. "Move!"

Ravess slid right into Snipe's path, blocking his way. "I've come to challenge you."

"To WHAT?"

"Moto-jousting."

Snipe paused a moment, letting it sink in. Then he let out a loud guffaw. "HA! HAHAHAHAHA! YOU? BEAT ME AT MOTO-JOUSTING?"

"I'm fairly confident I can out-joust you," Ravess said with a smirk. "Though if you believe otherwise, you're welcome to prove it on the battlefield. Then again, given your last loss, perhaps deep down, you DON'T believe otherwise…"

"YOU'RE ON!" Snipe yelled.

Snipe and Ravess soon found themselves facing each other, seated on their respective motorbikes as Vexen stood between them.

"Now, I want this to be kept a good, clean match," he said with a knowing smirk.

"Clean match?" Snipe laughed. "Yeah, right!"

"Do your worst," Ravess dared.

"On your mark!" Vexen declared. "Be ready! And…BEGIN!"

"YOU'RE GOING DOWN!" Snipe roared as his bike surged forward.

"You have to catch me first!" Ravess yelled as she turned her bike around and zoomed out of sight.

"NO FAIR!" Snipe bellowed as he gave chase. "GET BACK HERE, YOU COWARD!"

Following Ravess' trail what he believed to be closely, he found himself looking once more at the entryway to the laboratory. Several large and ostentatious signs painted in bright colors pointed at one of the levers, each proclaiming "PULL THIS LEVER!"

"Ha!" Snipe laughed. "You just made it too easy for me!" He pulled up parallel to the wall, pulling the indicated lever.

The entire floor dropped out from beneath him, and he and his bike both fell a good distance before crashing at the bottom of a dark, windowless pit.

Before Snipe could work out what had happened, a smooth voice cut in far above him: "I know you don't know what the word 'oubliette' means. Allow me to define it for you."

Snipe craned his head upward to see Vexen staring down at him from above. "An oubliette," Vexen continued, "is a prison in which people are placed in order to be forgotten. To use it in a sentence: Snipe fell for a rudimentary trap that anyone of any intelligence should have been able to detect, and now he is unable to escape an oubliette."

"Unable to escape?" Snipe repeated. "That's what you think! I'll PUNCH my way outta this room! Where is this, anyway?"

"Through careful study," Vexen informed Snipe, "I was able to determine that the decoy lever rotated between three punishments for those who pulled it. The first time, the punishment is flames. Pulled a second time, the lever's wrath is an attempt to freeze the hapless victim. The third time opens the oubliette. And the cycle repeats. All I had to do was make sure the lever was set to the correct trap and mark it ostentatiously. Your sister, of course, provided the bait."

At the other end of the aperture above, Ravess stepped into view. "Enjoy being forgotten, brother," she said with a smirk as the floor separating Snipe's new prison and the upper level began to patch itself together.

"I'M GONNA GET YOU BACK FOR THIS!" Snipe vowed, shaking a fist. Then the floor fixed itself to completion, and his voice was completely silenced.

"Someone WILL notice he is gone, of course," Ravess pointed out.

"Until then, we can enjoy the peace and quiet," Vexen sighed. "Though I suppose as his sister, you will want to let him out eventually."

"When I feel like it," Ravess stated. "And right now, I certainly do NOT feel like it."

"Nor do I," Vexen said with a nod. "It really is a pity that all it took was something so idiotically simple."

"It is, isn't it?" Ravess asked as she strode from the room. "Perhaps the next person to interrupt us will actually give us a challenge."

"Perhaps," Vexen agreed as he followed.

...

Beneath Gotham, a subterranean maze led to a secluded cavern. It was down this lengthy trail full of twists and turns that a certain duo tread, high heels clicking. Madame Frou Frou was on the prowl, but this time, she had a companion, and it certainly wasn't Fiammetta Incandescent.

Snatcher had insisted that he could persuade a big-name villain to cause a diversion on his own, but his associate had simply insisted upon coming along. After all, he had just stolen a dress that fit him perfectly, and he wanted his chance to try it out. Snatcher had argued heavily for going alone, not trusting anyone else to keep his game on point. His associate had replied that he was coming along whether Snatcher wanted him to or not, and if Snatcher didn't like that, Snatcher could just shoot him. Which Snatcher had been very tempted to do, but instead, he sighed, giving pointers to create a blonde dragsona in a red dress that showed off a lot of leg. And that was how he ended up with an effeminately clothed Peter at his side in the passages below Gotham.

"Remember, darling," Snatcher said in his best Frou Frou voice, "let me do all the talking. You may know the criminal underworld, but I know men."

"And let this brilliant voice Mim conjured for me go to waste?" Peter replied; Mim had transfigured his voice to sound far more female.

"I still maintain that's cheating," Snatcher said sullenly. "I've never once needed magic to pull this off, I'll have you know."

"You have to admit we needed magic for SOME of this," Peter reminded him, withdrawing several sparkling diamonds – or, to be more accurate, worthless stones glamoured to look like diamonds - from a small red purse. "How you would have negotiated without these, I'll never know."

"I don't wish to see the look on our client's face when the glamour wears off," Snatcher remarked. "We should be well out of range by that time, and it will be impossible for him to locate either of us based on the faces and names we'll be giving him."

"Too bad," Peter sighed as he replaced the faux gems in his purse. "I rather wanted to see him rage."

"Ah, so you have a death wish."

"Actually, it's more to do with revenge. He did something quite difficult to forgive, and if we didn't need his help, I'd be of a mind to do so much worse to him than pay him in false diamonds."

"What did he ever do to you?" Snatcher asked.

"He broke Garfield's heart," Peter replied.

The floor beneath their feet became dusted in frost; the walls lined in ice that shimmered a ghostly blue. "Don't say anything to make me regret not shooting you," Snatcher hissed to Peter.

"You are the expert here, after all," Peter replied sincerely.

Upon hearing the sound of two pair of high heels enter his domain, Victor Fries, more commonly known throughout Gotham as "Mr. Freeze," stomped out toward the entryway of his lair to face his intruders. The sight of him was striking; Snatcher felt of a chill of what he didn't want to admit was intimidation when the man, tall with his upper body encased in a sharp and glistening iceberg, stepped into view. "Who are you?" Freeze hissed, his voice sending shivers through Snatcher and Peter that had nothing to do with the drop in temperature that surrounded him.

"We have a proposition for you, Monsieur," Snatcher began. "One we think you will find – "

"I asked who you are," Freeze interrupted. "You did not answer my question. I will give you one chance to try again."

"Me?" Snatcher put a hand over his chest, batting Freeze eyes of innocence. "My name is Madame Frou Frou. And this young woman is my friend – "

"Sarah," Peter broke in. "Sarah Smiles."

Freeze fixed his eyes, which in the light, looked the same crimson as the Huntsman's, upon the pair. He had no inkling of who either of them was, and severely doubted two civilians could so easily find their way to his hiding place. "You are not affiliated with the Penguin, are you?"

"Why, no, Monsieur Freeze," Snatcher replied. "We would not even think of working with that dreadful ruffian."

"Riddler?" Freeze pressed. "Former allies of Joker?"

"Neither," Peter answered.

"Roman Torchwick," Freeze hissed, sounding angriest of all about that.

"NEVER!" Snatcher and Peter gasped as one.

"Then what makes you think you can offer me a proposition?" Freeze continued.

"We are what you would call upstarts, I suppose," Snatcher told him. "A pair of ne'er-do-wells who await when the empires of those you've mentioned lay in ruins so that we may build upon them. As you can imagine, it isn't easy for the likes of us. We simply aren't taken seriously."

"I can imagine," Freeze said apathetically.

"Tonight – " Peter began.

Snatcher elbowed him in the stomach to shut him up. "Tonight, you see, we are attempting somewhat of a…heist. I presume you know about the Judovits-Sabara exhibit?"

"Every criminal who considers himself worth his frost will be after that prize," Freeze stated. "I am not about to lower myself to something so obviously coveted. After all, not all that glitters is snow."

"Well, we certainly want it," Peter explained, "and we're willing to split the profits with you if you help us. You don't have to be anywhere near the museum itself." Testing the limits of his role, he strode toward Freeze, reaching out to place a hand on the tall man's chest and half wishing he could simply punch him instead. "The talents of a big, strong iceberg such as yourself are more useful elsewhere."

Freeze slapped Peter's hand away. "Seduction will not work on me," he hissed. "You might call me frigid in that regard. I prefer to speak in terms of cold, hard cash."

"Suit yourself," Peter grumbled, taking the glamoured stones from his purse and offering them.

Freeze's eyes momentarily widened when he saw how the light reflected off the diamonds. "How did you come by such ice? This looks to be worth more than what you intend to steal."

"Surely, you don't think the museum is our FIRST caper!" Snatcher giggled. "Don't worry. We still intend to give you a share of the reward. But we thought an advance payment might warm you up just a little, no?"

Freeze's fist closed around the diamonds in Peter's hand. "What is it you want from me?" he asked.

"Distract the Batman," Snatcher said plainly. "Keep him as far away from the museum as you can. Use whatever means appeal to you to accomplish this."

"Enticing," Freeze replied, with emphasis on the syllable "ice." "I shall take you up on your offer. On one condition."

"Anything for you," Snatcher told him, batting eyelashes again.

"If you do not come through on your promise," Freeze threatened, "I put you both on ice."

"Duly noted," Peter said with a nod.

...

The wall of the City of Old Emperors towered high over Yzma, the Huntsman, and Xayide. "We have reached our destination," Xayide announced. "If we have been correct about the events that have taken place, Mozenrath is indeed within these walls. If we have not, then…"

"Then we figure out where in the world he even IS," Yzma grumbled. "I swear, if he makes me hike so much as a mile more in these foul boots…"

The Huntsman had simply pressed onward until he found the tall wooden gate of the City, shoving it inward so that the three seekers could enter.

They were taken aback at the chaos that reigned in the architecture visible inside. "A representation of the mental state of those who reside here," Xayide explained as the trio walked into the confines of the walls, beginning to make their way down one of the twisting by-roads.

"This is going to make my eyes bleed," Yzma hissed.

"Does the City often receive visitors from the outside?" the Huntsman asked.

"What is the point?" Xayide responded. "Those who make their permanent residence here are outsiders, lost from their homeworld. They are of little consequence to Fantastica. And furthermore, it is known to all who might have cared about them that once they reach this City, they are well and truly lost."

"I will lose him over my rotting corpse," the Huntsman grumbled under his breath.

For half an hour, they wandered the convoluted streets, only becoming more and more lost. Oddly enough, Xayide remarked, they had yet to see a single resident of the City, and it was almost as though the city were empty. Their wandering was suddenly interrupted by a "Hello!" that was meant to sound gleeful but instead carried a not-too-well-hidden strain.

All three turned to see Argax standing upon a barrel at the side of the street. The Huntsman reacted out of instinct, drawing the Huntstaff and aiming it at the talking monkey.

"Have you come for Mozenrath?" Argax asked, unfazed by the staff but still forcing his smile to hide a very exhausted interior.

"Yes," the Huntsman replied. "We have."

"I was hoping someone would," Argax sighed. "Things haven't gone as planned. Characters from other Realms of Storytelling should never be allowed to enter Fantastica again, they shouldn't. Or at least not be allowed to become Emperor. The rules don't work on them."

"Realms of Storytelling?" the Huntsman repeated. "Explain." He nudged the staff forward until the point of it pressed against Argax's throat.

"I told Mozenrath once, but he's obviously forgotten it," Argax answered. "Fantastica is where stories are born, but there are infinite worlds where stories take place. They rarely ever cross. And yet here you are, two of you from other Realms of Storytelling entirely, and neither from the same as Mozenrath. Whatever circumstances brought you together? This is truly an anomaly."

The Huntsman was beginning to piece everything together in his mind. "Stories," he repeated. "We are stories, you claim."

"Fictional characters," Argax confirmed. "Told in a story by someone in a distant land apart from any of your worlds."

"You lie," the Huntsman accused.

"It is what I have been trying to tell you from the very start," Xayide admitted.

The Huntsman, staff still trained on Argax, turned to look at her with interest. Yzma also regarded Xayide as the redheaded witch explained, "Bastian Balthazar Bux was a human. Not a Fantastican. This was easy to discern. However, when the three of you entered my fortress, it became clear that while you were not Fantasticans, you had more in common with them than with Bastian, a true human. I knew you must have been part of another story. A story with a more…independent world than Fantastica. A story where you did not need an encroaching human to decide who you were and why you did what you did."

"I still refuse to believe any of it," the Huntsman growled. "We are not fictional playthings of humans that watch over us like gods. We are barely playthings of the gods. We decide our own destiny. We do not simply follow a narrative."

"Decide your own destiny!" Xayide blurted. "I heard what you told Mozenrath on the night you declared your affections for him! Regardless of whatever humans tell your story in Bastian's world, you have never once had a say in your own destiny! You let the mark on your body, the mark of the dragon, decide that for you. You let your masters, your mentors, your teachers imprint a destiny inside of you. And you have followed that destiny to this day. Even now, you bow to the whims of Mozenrath."

The Huntsman's grip tightened on his weapon in rage. He wanted to spin it, turn it on Xayide. How dare the woman he saved from the maw of the Swamps of Sadness speak such atrocities toward him? Yet he could not bring himself to even attempt to harm her. Perhaps it was because of the alliance they had forged. And perhaps it was because he knew the truth of her words.

Yzma, all the same, decided to step right in between the two, hoping to act as a physical barrier against a fight. "You're both changing the subject!" she hissed. "We aren't here to have existential crises over revelations that shape our notion of reality! And we're not here to ask armor-piercing questions that fish for uncomfortable truths! We can do all that later over coffee. We are HERE to save Mozenrath!"

"Whether he is the one who needs saving is up for debate," Argax confessed. "By now, if he were a human, he would have lost almost all of his mental functions. I had expected him to join in the players of the Jumble Game, spelling out nonsense words on blocks with letters on. Instead, he…remembers one thing about himself. Not his name, nor his origin. He remembers that he wants to conquer. And…he has conquered. For the first time in remembered history, the City has a ruler."

"Why am I not surprised?" Yzma sighed. "WHY am I not surprised? He's insane, he can't remember anything, and he STILL took over this tiny, inconsequential piece of wasteland!"

"You may have noticed that the townsfolk are conspicuously absent," Argax sighed. "That is because…well, it will be far more effective to SHOW you what has happened than to simply explain."

"Then take us to Mozenrath," the Huntsman demanded.

At the heart of the City, the civilians scuttled about, building a pile of assorted objects that grew higher and higher. At the apex was a broken chair with bits of jewelry and string woven through it, and Mozenrath was seated upon that chair, barking out orders. "I said add MORE!" he roared. "I am your king now, and I need a castle worthy of one!"

"This really isn't surprising," the Huntsman told Yzma as they beheld the scene.

"MOZENRATH!" Yzma stormed toward the tower of junk. "YOU GET DOWN FROM THERE RIGHT NOW!"

Mozenrath flinched before looking at Yzma. "You're…talking to me?"  
"Do you see anyone ELSE around here named Mozenrath?" Yzma spat.

"That ISN'T my name," Mozenrath insisted, arms folded.

"Then what is?" Yzma asked.

Mozenrath didn't have an answer for that, so he decided to change the subject. "Who are YOU to think you can order me around? I'm the king here! I should have you banished for treason."

"AGAIN?" Yzma sighed.

The Huntsman tried a different approach, positioning himself in front of the royal trash heap and bending down on a knee. "Your Majesty," he greeted. "I apologize for the rudeness of my companion. We have merely come to ask you simple questions."

"And what makes you think I want to answer simple questions?" Mozenrath asked, fixing a glare upon the Huntsman.

"Do you have anything BETTER to do with your time?" Yzma asked.

Mozenrath thought it over. "Fair point," he said, waving his right hand. "All right, ask away. This MIGHT be amusing."

"Where do you come from?" the Huntsman began.

"This City," Mozenrath replied. "Since birth. Next."

"I could not help but notice the accessory that adorns your right hand, but no match upon your left. Is it of value?"

Mozenrath looked at his right hand in surprise. "Well, it's mine," he replied, "so obviously, yes, it has some inherent value."

"Do you wish to expand your empire outside these walls?" the Huntsman continued. "You must be aware that you would make a fine king over a larger domain."

"Everything I want is right here," Mozenrath answered. "There's nothing interesting outside the City walls! Everyone knows that!"

"For my final question," the Huntsman concluded, "do you know who we are?"

That got Mozenrath to pause for quite a while. As he looked over Xayide, Yzma, and the Huntsman, he did have to admit a sense of familiarity. However, his final answer was "No. I have no idea who you are. You seem to think you know who I am, but you don't. So obviously, you have me confused for someone less important. Which would explain all the weird questions."

"That is what we most urgently needed to know," the Huntsman stated. "Thank you. I beseech you to let us stay within your realm a while longer while we calculate our next step."

"I'm not a big fan of loiterers," Mozenrath grunted.

"Let us stay," Xayide broke in, "and we shall contribute to the construction of your castle."

"I guess I can't argue with that," Mozenrath said with a slight shrug. "Stay, then. But I'm watching you."

The trio moved some distance away from the throne. "He's forgotten his own NAME?" Yzma began.

"He's forgotten everything," Xayide said mournfully.

"Not necessarily everything," the Huntsman stated. "It would be much easier if he had. He still seems to have false memories implanted, this time of always having lived in the City of Old Emperors. And as of now, we have given him memories that cause him to distrust us. It would be easier to begin from a blank slate."

"So you're saying what, exactly?" Yzma grumbled. "We leave him here until he forgets MORE things?"  
"The effects would be catastrophic," Xayide stated. "He would gain more false memories and forget what we would not want him to, such as how to read or even how to eat. Furthermore, he already has not entered such an advanced state of memory loss as usual inhabitants. We may find ourselves waiting for eternity."

"There is another option," the Huntsman admitted. "One I was hesitant to use. It is very drastic." He withdrew a corked vial of water from his clothing. "This vial contains a very rare water drawn from the river Lethe in the Underworld. The Huntsclan valued its properties. It will cause anyone who is doused in it or who ingests it to forget certain things. This particular concentration of it has been magically enhanced so that it will wipe all memories of an identity from a mind. The one who receives the treatment will remember daily functions and the purpose of objects, but not his own name, his allies and enemies, his homeworld, or even what magic he knows. Mozenrath seems to have lost most of this already, and unless there is a way to repair this…" He looked toward Xayide.

"There is not," Xayide stated. "Are you saying with this water, we could turn his memory loss to our own terms?"  
"And lead him out of the City," the Huntsman confirmed.

"He will forget you," Xayide reminded him. "He will forget his relationship with you."

"He already has," the Huntsman recalled. Though he was adamant not to let it show, Yzma and Xayide could guess at how the Huntsman's heart was being torn by having to make this decision. "If he has not forgotten how to use the gauntlet already, he will certainly forget it after this. We must take care to protect him. He will be vulnerable."

"And is there any way to come back from this Lethe water?" Yzma asked.

"I…do not know," the Huntsman admitted. "And 'coming back' may very well be restoring him to the state he is in now. We may simply be resigned to bringing him up to speed from scratch. Teaching him to be who he once was. Helping him regain his magical skill…and our trust."

"I know the others aren't going to like that," Yzma groaned. "As a matter of fact, I don't like it."

"Nor I," the Huntsman admitted. "But it seems the only way."

"It does sound as though it will work," Xayide encouraged.

"Then we are agreed," the Huntsman stated.

"Unfortunately," Yzma and Xayide sighed as one.

The Huntsman turned back to Mozenrath's makeshift throne. "Your Majesty," the Huntsman announced, "before we begin the construction of your magnificent castle, we bring you a gift."

"I'm listening," Mozenrath replied, suddenly interested.

The Huntsman set a foot on the mound; the myriad of oddly shaped objects slid beneath his boot. He gained traction, finding a path to walk up to Mozenrath until he stood before the rickety chair itself. He offered the vial of Lethe water in an outstretched hand. "Water the likes of which is only drunk or bathed in by kings," he said, heart pounding.

"That sounds suspiciously like what someone would say if they were trying to poison me," Mozenrath pointed out.

"I assure you, it is not – "

"Prove it. Drink from it."

The Huntsman quickly uncorked the bottle, wishing to waste no more time. It felt like a complete betrayal of the loyalty he had shown Mozenrath for all this time, but what other choice did he have? As he turned it, Mozenrath detected what he was about to do, and reached for a shovel that was half sticking out of the collected debris, ready to use it as a weapon. The water was splashed all over Mozenrath, and just before his hand could close around the handle of the shovel, the young sorcerer collapsed entirely.

The Huntsman slowly knelt, dislodging more assorted objects in the process. He kept a firm eye fixed upon Mozenrath, waiting for him to wake from his short period of blankness.

Then Mozenrath shifted, squirmed, propped himself up on his hands so he could look at the Huntsman. The expression on his face was one of sincere confusion as he asked, "And you would be…?"  
"I am the Huntsman," the Huntsman replied. "You once knew me by another name, but I am not about to tell it to you here in the open. I know things must seem strange and unfamiliar. For your own sake, you must believe what I am about to tell you. I am about to tell you who you are."

"Who I am?" Mozenrath replied tentatively. "I don't…I don't know who I am. How do I know you're not lying to me?"  
"Because I am a…friend," the Huntsman told him. "Your name is Mozenrath. You are a sorcerer and a conqueror. You came here to this world with myself and one other in order to take the throne, but you succumbed to madness in the process. This world is no longer safe for us, and we must find a way to return home. We have made one accomplice here, and will be bringing her with us. Home is…a rather complicated matter, one which we can explain to you further when we are long gone from this City. It is dangerous for you to remain here longer, for it will ravage what is left of your mind. This entire world is the reason you remember nothing."

Mozenrath was left unsure how to respond. He had reason neither to believe nor for disbelief in what the Huntsman had just said. It was only now occurring to him how little he knew, and it frightened him. To be a sorcerer and a conqueror sounded fitting; those were glamorous titles that appealed to him. He longed to be able to know that identity for himself, and, even more, his own name.

"We must hurry!" the Huntsman insisted.

"I don't…" Mozenrath sputtered.

"I don't," the Huntsman interrupted, "wish to see the toll taken on your mind if you remain here."

"We'll go," Mozenrath decided. What reason did he have not do? What would happen to him if he refused? "But you'd better explain…everything along the way."

"And I will," the Huntsman vowed. He stood up straight, a difficult task on unstable ground. "Come with me." He extended a hand downward.

Mozenrath refused it, standing up of his own accord and looking around, taking in the sight of where, exactly, he was. As the Huntsman descended the junk pile, Mozenrath did so as well.

"It really looks more like some sort of modern art than a throne," Yzma remarked. "Something some upstart would throw together and think was a masterpiece reflection of his genius mind. May the gods forbid we ever get anything like THIS decorating the hallways."

The Huntsman approached with Mozenrath in tow. "This is Yzma," he said with a gesture toward her. "She is the one who came to this world with us. And this is Xayide." He shifted his hand to gesture to her. "We met her here and took her into our fold as a diplomat and fellow sorceress."

Mozenrath nodded. Though neither was outright familiar to him, he realized that he had a sort of sense, the same sense he had about the Huntsman, come to think of it, that they were something safe, secure. And he would be safe and secure with them.

"Don't you DARE make us go halfway around the world to find you again!" Yzma snapped.

"Yzma," the Huntsman cautioned. "He doesn't remember."

Yzma nodded somberly. "Well, we have quite a few things to catch you up on. It will be easier once we get you home. Which is where we're going. Just as soon as…" Yzma was suddenly stricken with horror. She slowly turned to the Huntsman. "You said he…would have forgotten all his magic?"

"Magic?" Mozenrath answered for her. "I don't KNOW any magic!"

"And you…" Yzma turned to Xayide. "You wouldn't happen to know how to make a portal to leave this world, would you?"  
"I was not aware there was a simple way for us to cross worlds," Xayide admitted. "I only know how the human Bastian gained entry, and it was not easy."

"So NOBODY knows how to get us off this world?" Yzma reiterated.

The horror sunk in among herself and the Huntsman.

"If nothing else, I can teach you to make a home here," Xayide suggested.

"And on the bright side, thanks to this apparent and sudden memory loss, I guess I don't know what I'm missing," Mozenrath sighed.

"You don't understand," Yzma sputtered. "We CAN'T stay in this world! The others won't know where to come looking for us! We can't progress with our scheme of multi-world domination! If we try to dominate anything here, we end up in THIS situation all over again! The only option is for us to become – " She gasped dramatically. "…Peasants." She gagged on the word.

"We will find a way home," the Huntsman insisted. "For now, let us focus on leaving the City behind." He turned and stalked down the street.

Mozenrath followed like a puppy after an owner; the Huntsman was having trouble adjusting to the idea that Mozenrath now had to follow where he, the Huntsman, led. Yzma and Xayide brought up the rear of the group, and they set out once more, though now, they did not know their destination.

"So you said you'd explain," Mozenrath pointed out as they put distance between themselves and the City. "You know, who I am, what I'm trying to conquer, where exactly 'home' is, all those finicky little details."

"Right," Yzma replied, taking the reins of the conversation. "Well, you come from a place called the Land of the Black Sands, where you ruled over basically nothing in an impressively flamboyant way."

"Ruling over nothing doesn't sound like me," Mozenrath replied, "but I like the sounds of 'impressively flamboyant.'"

"Well, apparently, one day you got bored of that," Yzma went on, "and you decided to bother Maleficent."

"Who's Maleficent?"

"This is going to be a long trip."

...

In the streets of the Black Sands, the Heartless rounded up the flaming cats. As the Heartless were, by nature, without fear, it was a simple task for them to corner the cats, cause them to shrink for fear starvation, and then rip them apart, in some cases devouring them.

After a particular group had done exactly that, a column of orange flame erupted from down the street, and Hades, bright orange in skin tone, stormed forth from it. "WHERE! IS! SHE!"

The Heartless looked at each other, confused.

"I KNOW who's responsible for this!" Hades roared. "So if any of you glowy-eyed nimrods finds a giant walking black cat, you bring her to me IMMEDIATELY! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" He then shook his head. "No. Of course you don't. You're just Heartless. I don't know why I routinely think talking to you does any good. You just keep milling about and running into walls or whatever it is you do. Oh, and keep eating those cats. I want those cats OBLITERATED. Capisce?"

The Heartless looked at him blankly.

"Oy."

Hades returned to the Citadel, where he found Jafar awaiting him in the atrium. "You're SURE this is Mirage."

"Not only are these feline intruders one of her personal hallmarks," Jafar confirmed, "but Mirage herself seems to have escaped the Crystal of Ix."

"I KNEW we should have had more security on that thing!" Hades growled. "But nooooooooo!"

"In all fairness," Jafar responded, "the Crystal was secure. The only way for Mirage to have broken free is if someone had let her out."

"And when I find out who did it," Hades seethed, "they are becoming a permanent addition to the river Styx." He sighed, cooling back to blue. "Let's just get our eye in the sky to see how the Heartless are doing against the cats."

Together, Jafar and Hades made their way to a tower balcony that offered a good view of the entire city below, including the crystal posts set up to detect magic. When they arrived, there was already someone standing there, her back to them both.

"YOU!" Hades and Jafar snapped at once.

Mirage slowly turned around, chuckling in a low voice. "Me."

"You're DEAD!" Hades, flaring up orange, tossed a ball of flame at Mirage.

She vanished, reappearing behind them. "Careful," she said playfully. "Fire from a god himself might actually burn me. Of course, you'll have to catch me first."

"Have you merely come to gloat?" Jafar asked, rounding on her and aiming his staff; he knew the red lightning that emitted from it would miss – she teleported just a few feet to the side – but it was better than doing nothing.

"Yes and no," Mirage answered coolly. "I just wanted to tell you in person that I take offense to Maleficent calling herself the 'Mistress of All Evil.' That title has belonged to me since before she was born, and I intend to earn it back."

Hades and Jafar tried launching fire at her in synchronization, but she vanished again, reappearing behind them once more and causing them to turn around to face her a second time. "This was just your last warning," she cackled.

"Who freed you from your prison?" Jafar demanded.

Mirage knew that selling out the names of her rescuers would put Maleficent's associates hot on their trail, more so than ever before. And watching the fallout would have been glorious. However, Mirage realized what might benefit her more in the long run was a plain and simple lie. One that would make her opponents feel less secure in their ability to contain her. "No one freed me," she said with a smile. "Your prison simply wasn't strong enough to hold me."

She then slashed her hands through the air, two sets of claw-mark-shaped energy beams hurtling toward Jafar and Hades. As the duo reeled from impact, Mirage vanished again, this time for good.

...

At the back maintenance door of the Judovits-Sabara Museum, had any do-gooder been there, they might have been baffled by the sight that awaited them just long enough for the villains gathered to make an escape. For Roman Torchwick, Archibald Snatcher, Mad Madam Mim, Ayam Aghoul, and Firefly were waiting patiently outside the door, counting in unison: "One hundred and twenty-eight…one hundred and twenty-nine…one hundred and thirty…"

The door swung open, Ragdoll leaning on the frame inside.

"ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY-ONE!" his assorted associates proclaimed.

"It took me two minutes and eleven seconds to bust this door?" Ragdoll determined. "Hm. I must be getting rusty."

"Let's just get in, get what we came for, and get out," Roman commanded, stepping over the threshold.

As the group of six neared the location of the exhibit, Roman remarked, "It's really kinda pathetic that the new Joker didn't think of this first."

"Who's to say he didn't?" Snatcher pointed out. "We should be on guard."

"Relax," Roman told him. "Nobody has tripped an alarm yet. We got in because we have Mister Twister to circumvent the system. Do they have somebody who can get around the security system and open the door for THEM? I don't think so."

They rounded the corner to find the exhibit waiting for them – and Karlo, Krank, Gearhead, Poison Ivy, Ventriloquist, Rhino, and Mugsy waiting in front of it.

"Um, they have me," Karlo pointed out. "Clayface. Literally made of clay. I'm offended you forgot."

"Get over it, Karlo," Poison Ivy snapped.

"Aren't you guys missing somebody?" Roman pointed out. "Lemme guess. He's standing around the corner, waiting to step out and make some dramatic entrance. Come on out and hit me with it, Joker."

There was a tense silence before Ventriloquist informed Roman through Scarface that "He's not here, dummy!"

"We're doing this job on our own," Gearhead added. "He said we were good enough that we didn't NEED him or Harley."

"So he chickened out and let you all do his dirty work," Roman pointed out. "Stunning example of leadership, really. So, should we just cut right to the chase? Because I think we all know we're not leaving here without a fight. REALLY too bad Bozo couldn't show up, though. I kinda need to kill that guy. Looks like I'm just gonna have to settle for…" He lifted the Cudgel, pointing it at the Ventriloquist. "The dummy with the dummy and his dumber sidekicks." He waved the Cudgel about. "And then the rest of you if I have time."

"Aw, you're not gonna leave any for us?" Mim pouted.

"Point," Roman amended. "I kill one of you, and my friends get to kill the rest of you. Then everyone wins! On our side, anyway."

"You wanna make this a game?" Krank withdrew a remote, pressing a button that summoned a host of Zoom Pets to march around the corner, knife-like claws protruding from their plush paws. "Because I've got all the pieces in place! And by these rules, nobody says 'Sorry' when somebody gets knocked off the board!"

"I warned you not to play with dolls," Ragdoll countered. "As it is, I can see I'm going to have to run you ragged."

Gearhead snapped his fingers, and a yellow motorcycle careened around the corner of another hall. "Well, then, I'm going to have to drive you crazy," he threatened as he mounted the bike.

"We're already crazy," Mim reminded him.

"If you're trying to scare me to death, you're a little too late," Aghoul added.

"You do know this rose has thorns, right?" Poison Ivy countered.

"Heh," Firefly chuckled, "you call that a sick burn – "

"ENOOUUUUUUGH!" Roman yelled, clutching at his hair. "ENOUGH WITH THE BANTER AND THE BAD PUNS! SERIOUSLY! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU GOTHAM TYPES? IS THIS ALL YOU DO ALL DAY? SIT AROUND AND WRITE THESE TERRIBLE PUNS?" He rounded on Mim and Aghoul. "And YOU TWO! STOP ENCOURAGING THE REST OF THEM!"

There was another tense silence before Roman turned back to the offending seven. "With that out of the way," he said, "let's light it up."

"That was banter, you know," Firefly pointed out.

"FUCK IT!" Roman yelled, charging right at Ventriloquist.

Seven and six rushed each other, clashing at a midpoint.

...

High above, the Joker kept watch over the museum from the airship's monitors. "Everyone is present and accounted for!" he announced upon seeing Roman's contingent enter the building.

"Too bad we can't be there to see the throwdown," Harley sighed.

"We'll get the security footage later," Joker told her. "For now, just kick back and relax. At least you won't have to throw any punches at your old friends."

"True," Harley mused. "Y'know, you really are better than the last Mr. J. He wouldn't be that considerate about this sort of thing. He'd try and make me go bash Firefly's head in while he tied Ragsy in knots."

"I know it will take me a while to earn your trust," Joker told Harley, patting her gently atop the head, "but I do hope you'll give me the chance."

"Of course!" Harley affirmed.

Joker nodded to Maleficent. "If it pleases you, Mistress, make sure no one can leave the party early."

Maleficent cast a shimmering spell that washed over the whole museum, encasing it in a magical barrier. It took some effort to keep from laughing. For while Joker hadn't told Harley about the little surprise he'd arranged, for obvious reasons, Maleficent knew all about it.

...

As Roman advanced upon the Ventriloquist, the latter's free hand moved briskly, and Scarface was soon outfitted with a flamethrower. It took a quick dodge on Roman's part to avoid being seared.

"I'm being shot at by a ventriloquist dummy," he groaned. "The worst part is I can't actually tell if this is the weirdest thing to happen to me." He fired the Cudgel at the Ventriloquist.

Rhino dove, tackling the Ventriloquist and ducking under the fire. He then got to his feet immediately, throwing a punch at Roman. Roman sidestepped it, parrying the burly arm with the Cudgel.

Mugsy took the opportunity to sneak up behind Roman with a knife, raising his hand high for a stab. The chain of Snatcher's weapon wrapped around his arm, jerking it back and causing him to drop the knife on his foot; he roared with pain. Hearing a telltale "click," he twisted his body this way and that to avoid being shot through with lightning from the barrel of Snatcher's weapon.

Rhino grabbed Roman's arm, forcing it behind his back in a lock, twisting Roman to face away from him. "Any last words?" he growled.

"Just a bit of advice," Roman said casually. "Disarm a guy before you put him in a hold."

The hand held behind his back was still gripping the Cudgel, which was pointed at the floor, angled toward Rhino's feet. With a BOOM, the floor exploded, sending Rhino flying against the wall until he was unconscious. Roman then turned his weapon toward Mugsy, but Snatcher beat him to the punch, landing a shot that sizzled with electricity throughout the thug's body. As Mugsy dropped to the ground, a faint burning smell went up through the air.

Roman then turned back to the Ventriloquist, who was getting up gingerly. "Don't take another step closer!" Scarface threatened. "I'll – "

"Shut. UP." Roman swiped the Cudgel at the Ventriloquist, knocking him back down. He then reached down and, with one forceful pull, pried Scarface from the Ventriloquist's hands.

"No…no, please, don't!" the Ventriloquist begged. "I need him!"

"You NEED him?" Roman mocked. "Oh, you NEED him! In that case, I'll go easy on him. After all, you had your guys go easy on the one I need. Right? Didn't you? Oh, wait, I'm thinking of the opposite. You stopped being able to use NEEDING this thing as an excuse when you fucked with my partner!"

The Ventriloquist flinched.

Roman tossed Scarface back over his shoulder; Snatcher caught it. "Something tells me this is going to taste sweeter for you than it is for me," Roman said, firing a wink in Snatcher's direction.

Snatcher wasted no time in laying Scarface on the ground and raising the mallet of his weapon high.

"NO!" the Ventriloquist cried out in vain.

With a single blow, Scarface was dashed to pieces. A second, third, fourth, and fifth blow smashed each of the dummy's parts beyond recognition.

"You…you…" The Ventriloquist gritted his teeth. "I'LL MAKE YOU PAY FOR THAT!" He rushed Roman.

Roman laughed. "What are you going to do – "

The Ventriloquist landed a punch to Roman's throat, causing him to stagger and gag.

"Now, what was that safety hazard Krank Co. got sued over?" Firefly mocked as a horde of Zoom Pets closed in around him. "Oh, yeah. Fire hazards!" He spun in place, using his gauntlets to set each of the Zoom Pets ablaze.

As their metal skeletons were revealed, the sound of whizzing metal pierced the air. One of Gearhead's nanotechnology bolts found its way to stick to a now skinless Zoom Pet, infecting it, causing its claws to grow longer and its mouth to sprout needle-like fangs. More and more bolts struck the remaining Zoom Pets, speeding them up.

"You are KIDDING ME!" Firefly yelled before taking off straight upward, letting the Zoom Pets descend upon each other. The now possessed toys tore at their fellows for only moments before spotting Firefly in the air. Firefly set his sights upon Krank himself, aiming both gauntlets.

Then Krank stepped onto his Cosmo Flier, launching into the air himself and zigzagging to avoid Firefly's fire. "TOO SLOW!" he laughed. Meanwhile, the Zoom Pets had begun to stack on each other's head to make a column tall enough to reach Firefly. Firefly noticed this almost too late, darting across the room before the topmost toy could rip his fuel tank open.

Another bolt began to whistle its way toward said tank in an attempt by Gearhead to ground Firefly. The bolt, however, was snagged not long after launch in a long-fingered hand. Ragdoll was almost surprised at himself for being able to catch it, staring at it for a moment before throwing it right back at Gearhead.

Gearhead let the bolt stick to his bike; it had no effect. "What'd you expect that to do?" he asked. "Did you think you were gonna beat me by siccing my own tech on me?"

"Actually, no," Ragdoll told him. "I thought I was going to beat you by doing THIS." He performed a handspring, leaping gracefully through the air, reaching out with all four limbs and wrapping himself around Gearhead, trying to drag the motorist down off the bike.

"Let…GO!" Gearhead took off on the bike, hoping to gain enough velocity to throw Ragdoll off. Ragdoll tightened his grip, moving his hands to Gearhead's throat, which Ragdoll knew couldn't be cybernetic. "I SAID GET OFF!" Gearhead yelled, using one hand to block Ragdoll's strangulation attempt while the other was firmly planted on the steering mechanism taking the bike round and round in circles.

"Let's make this quick," Poison Ivy said with a smirk, blowing a kiss of spores at Mim.

"OHHHH NO YOU DON'T!" Mim snapped her fingers, and the cloud of spores burned into one of ash. "Your little tricks won't work on me!"

"Maybe that trick didn't," Poison Ivy said, waving her hand. "I'll probably have better luck with this one."

Gigantic Venus Flytraps sauntered around the corner on their roots, snapping at Mim.

"Now you're just cheating!" Mim huffed. "All that stuff you hid down the hall! It's not fair! WE didn't even figure out a way to cheat yet, and cheating is my favorite part!" She morphed into a human-sized squirrel, one of the few predators known that could devour Venus Flytraps. She sank her teeth into the stalk of one of the plants before it could do the same to her, nibbling enough to cause the plant to shudder.

"VENUS FLYTRAPS ARE RARE!" Poison Ivy yelled. At her outburst, a host of vines shot around the corner, wrapping up the squirrel Mim.

Mim next took on a form that was able to sever her bonds with the swipe of one claw; inspired, she had morphed into the shape of one of the skeletal Zoom Pets.

Ayam Aghoul called scythe to hand, slicing deep into Karlo's body; he flinched as he watched it take on the consistency of clay and simply mold over the incision he had made. "Looks like I was right not to bring my camera for this one," Karlo taunted. "Beating you is gonna be too easy to make good television."

"I don't even see what Mim sees in you," Aghoul huffed.

Karlo morphed into a great clay beast, towering over Aghoul.

"All right, NOW I'm starting to see it!" Aghoul remarked.

Karlo threw a punch with an overlarge, viscous arm; Aghoul sliced it right off before it could reach him. Ten more arms erupted from Karlo's body, forming into sharp and pointed shapes before curving around to attack Aghoul from all angles. Aghoul spun his scythe deftly, cutting off each appendage before it could reach him. He made a dive at Karlo's center, swiping the scythe. Karlo simply opened a hole in what might have been called his chest so that Aghoul could pass right through, then reformed once Aghoul landed on his feet on the other side. "Just face it!" Karlo laughed as his face appeared on the other side of his hulking body. "You're not gonna beat me that way!"

"You didn't happen to see a skull-shaped bomb anywhere, did you?" Aghoul said with a smirk as he turned back to face Karlo. "I think I might have dropped it while I was passing through you."

"WHAT – "

The bomb Aghoul had implanted in Karlo on his leap through erupted, turning Karlo into an avalanche of falling clay. The floor beneath was already weak from Roman's earlier Cudgel-fire, and Aghoul fell straight through it to the basement below. Pieces of Karlo did as well, struggling to crawl back up to form a whole.

Aghoul got to his feet, dusting himself off and looking at the not-so-neat hole that had been blown in the ceiling above. The sounds of the battle raging carried down, and Aghoul at first cared about nothing but getting back into the thick of it; Karlo would reform in very little time.

Then he noticed the smell. At first, it didn't bother him. He knew what it was, but to one undead as himself, it wasn't a problem at all. Horror set in once Aghoul realized that his five allies, being alive, wouldn't be so lucky as he was.

Up top, Roman and Snatcher had gone back-to-back to fend off the now conscious Rhino and Mugsy while the Ventriloquist watched nervously. Poison Ivy's plants threatened time and time again to stymie Mim as she slashed at their vines with her new metal claws. Firefly chased Krank round and round the upper part of the room while the Zoom Pets swarmed below. Gearhead zigzagged, trying to find the right momentum to throw Ragdoll off balance, as Ragdoll kept his grip, moving a hand to cover Gearhead's eyes. Karlo pieced himself back together, ready for another round. It was in the midst of all this that Aghoul teleported to the upper floor, screaming out, "POISON GAS! POISON IN THE BASEMENT!"

Everyone froze for a moment. Then Krank said "Nice try" and the fight resumed.

"I MEAN IT!" Aghoul barked. "I can tell the smell of something deadly anywhere! If I had been alive when I landed in that basement, you wouldn't even have this warning! There's a gas being released into this museum, and it's on its way UP!"

Poison Ivy snapped her fingers, and one of her Venus Flytraps hopped down through the hole in the floor. "Stop trying to distract us," she said confidently. "If there was really a poison gas down there, my Flytrap would be – "

The plant shuddered, falling limply to the floor, unable to rise again. The edges of its jaws turned black, beginning to curl.

"He is NOT LYING!" Poison Ivy yelled, suddenly in a panic.

Then everyone froze for real.

"You know what?" Roman decided. "Forget the exhibit. Forget putting you losers in your place. We're getting out of here with our LIVES. So out of our way!" Roman shoved past the dazed Mugsy, leading the charge. Snatcher was the first to follow; Mim, Aghoul, and Ragdoll fell into line after him. Firefly outpaced him, guessing his trajectory to the museum atrium.

"I don't want to die here either!" the Ventriloquist whimpered.

"None of us do!" Gearhead informed him, sliding his bike up next to Poison Ivy; Krank lowered the Cosmo Flier to get next to Ventriloquist. "Now get on, and let's make tire tracks!"

Poison Ivy settled on the bike's seat right behind Gearhead, Ventriloquist stepped up onto the Cosmo Flier, and the two vehicles took off after Roman's group. Rhino and Mugsy charged on foot while Karlo followed in the form of a crashing clay wave – he knew well enough that in his current state, he couldn't be damaged by poison gas, but where his team went, he would follow.

The Joker had determined long ago that if it meant getting rid of Roman and his accomplices, his own team of Arkham inmates was expendable. They were bait; a diversion to keep Roman from noticing his impending death. Not to mention the Joker derived a little pleasure out of simply killing off the other big names in Gotham; any one of them could have proved to be competition one day. A failsafe had been installed, and Firefly was the first to discover it as he blasted the doors of the museum only to have his fire rebound at him. No matter how thick the museum doors, he knew, that shouldn't have happened. As the rest of his entourage filed into the atrium, Firefly hoisted up the heaviest statue he could lift and lobbed it at a glass window. The window shattered, but the statue still bounced off something and was thrown back down to the floor, where it broke into pebbles.

"Bad news, guys," Firefly said as he zipped down to floor level. "I should have been able to punch a hole in this building twice now, and it's not working."

"Let me take a look," Mim suggested. "If this ends up being a barrier spell, I'm going to be good and mad!" She levitated herself up to the window, tapping at the invisible force that surrounded it. "That's a BARRIER, all right!" she growled through gritted teeth.

By then, the opposing team had also entered the open hall. "What's going on here?" Poison Ivy demanded.

"They trapped us in here," Roman said in a daze that was half panic and half anger. "They sealed up the building with magic so we'd ALL go down!"

"There's no such thing as magic!" Krank insisted. "Watch!" He steered the Cosmo Flier full speed at another window.

"I wouldn't – " Snatcher began to warn.

Krank and the Ventriloquist collided with the barrier at full speed, ricocheting back as the glass broke around them.

"You know, if our lives weren't on the line, that would probably have been hilarious," Ragdoll pointed out.

"MIM!" Roman yelled. "TELEPORT US OUT OR SOMETHING!"

Mim, back on the ground, had already tried and failed to conjure a Corridor of Darkness, followed by a simple spell to simply zap herself outside of the building. "That barrier's keeping us sealed up tight!" she growled. "When I get my hands on Maleficent, ooooooh, she's going to PAY for this!"

"I'm beginning to doubt you'll get the chance," Snatcher told her.

"DON'T YOU EVEN START!" Roman yelled. "We are GETTING OUT OF HERE!"

"We'd at least better move higher up," Aghoul suggested. "I'm starting to smell it getting closer…"

Firefly cut a neat circular hole, about ten feet in diameter, in the ceiling to the floor above. He then swooped back down to pick up Ragdoll, carrying the latter to higher ground. Mim's teleportation proved to work within the confines of the museum; she easily brought herself, Aghoul, Roman, and Snatcher one floor up. Krank and Ventriloquist were next up on the Flier; Karlo carried Poison Ivy, Gearhead, Rhino, and Mugsy up in a column of clay.

The windows on the upper floor were protected by the same barrier as those below, as Roman found out through trial and error. "It's okay," he tried to tell himself. "Even if we do die, Righty can just bring us all back. Right?"

"If he figures out we died at all," Aghoul pointed out. "After all, it's just going to be me and the clay one left, and we'll still be sealed in here until Maleficent figures out what to do with us. It better not involve the Netherworld. I don't WANT to go back to the NETHERWORLD!"

"Don't worry, sweetie," Mim reassured. "It's Maleficent. She's got something more agonizing in mind than just sending you back to the Netherworld!"

"NOT HELPING!" Roman yelled. "Okay, new plan. Climb. Keep climbing. Get to the top to buy time, THEN figure out what to do."

And so the unlucky thirteen rose another floor, then another, only to find the ceiling would not break and the only stairway to the roof led to an impossibly sealed door.

"This is not how I wanna go," Roman said softly. "Seriously. I didn't think it could get worse than being eaten by a fucking Grimm, but here we are. I'm seriously going to die here because some JOKER outsmarted me and out-magicked Mim." He kept his gaze focused on the floor, not wanting to betray his fear.

"You think WE wanna die here?" Gearhead snapped. "Stuck with all of YOU?"

The Ventriloquist had simply found a corner to sit in, arms wrapped around knees, and await his fate, wishing Scarface hadn't been dashed to pieces, for now, in what he was sure would be his final hour, his mind felt ever so empty and lonely.

"Hey, R.D…" Firefly said tentatively. "If we don't make it outta here…you should know…" He stared Ragdoll directly in the X-shaped eyes on his mask. "You're the best partner a guy could ask for." His voice cracked.

"I love you too," Ragdoll replied. He then swept Firefly into a rather awkward embrace, having to work around the fuel tank; Firefly clutched Ragdoll with a tight grip.

"If I don't make it," Mim told Aghoul, "give Maleficent a good fight, and when you land a particularly nasty blow, tell her it was from me!"

"I will," Aghoul vowed. "I'm going to miss you, Mad Madam Mim." His hand slid into hers, his cold fingers intertwining with her rather chubby ones.

Snatcher gingerly approached Roman, who he could tell was losing grip. He gently placed a hand on Roman's shoulder, and softly, he muttered, "Torchwick…it seems as though everyone else is paying last respects. You should know – "

Roman turned suddenly, clutching at the sides of Snatcher's face, pulling him into a long, deep kiss. When Roman let go, Snatcher, stunned and having to deal with a now elevated heart rate, remarked, "Can't really think of what to say that's better than that. That about summed it up, really."

"I'm not dying here," Roman resolved, looking Snatcher dead in the eye. "WE'RE not dying here. And if I AM going to die here, I AM GOING TO GO DOWN FIGHTING, OKAY?"

"Torchwick – !"

Roman turned and ran for the stairs again, banging his fists on the door that would have led to the roof and escape, working the handle again and again to no avail. He intended to keep doing so up until his last moment, at least trying to break free of the fate Maleficent and the Joker had spun for him. He would have kept banging on the door until his hands bled.

But there was one thing on that particular world – something that existed in any world containing a Gotham, though from a planet a good deal further away – that could punch a hole in even a barrier forged by Maleficent, and it did so at that moment, striking the walls of the museum only once and causing the entire barrier to dispel. That material was known on that world as "Nth element." And someone wielding a mace composed of it had just shown up.

The door handle suddenly turned in Roman's grasp, and Roman spilled out onto the roof, into clean, fresh air. It took him a moment to realize what had just happened before he thought to turn and run back down the stairwell. Skidding in among his friends and rivals, he announced, "So I MIGHT have just opened up a door to the outside – "

He was nearly bowled over by everyone present rushing for the stairwell, speeding up the stairs to freedom.

"How did you do it?" Snatcher asked as he grabbed hold of Roman's arm to drag him along; Roman was rather too stunned to move at first.

"I have no idea," Roman admitted.

"Then you realize it probably wasn't you – "

"Still taking credit for it."

They emerged atop the roof to find the assorted criminals staring down six newcomers: a winged man, a man clad in green and sporting a glimmering ring of the same shade, a young man dressed all in red, a more muscular man clad in red and blue who hovered a foot off the ground, a man whose green ensemble was topped off by a rather old-fashioned hat and who clutched a bow and arrow in his hands, and a Martian of bright jade-colored skin.

"Drop whatever you stole," Superman commanded. "Your stunt bribing Freeze to attack downtown might have distracted the Batman, but the rest of us – "

"Wait," Martian Manhunter bade him. "They have taken nothing. There is a dangerous gas being released in the museum, and they have only just been able to break free of a supernatural barrier keeping them inside. Hawkman's Nth element must have been responsible for freeing them."

"It was TOTALLY me!" Roman groaned.

"We must get to safety first," Martian Manhunter advised. "All of us. Then we will discuss what to do with them."

Everyone's attention was suddenly diverted to a great mass of silver becoming visible in the skies above. The Joker's airship was no longer cloaked.

Roman glared daggers at it, recognizing it immediately, wanting nothing more than to bring it down in flames with the mere power of his mind. As it stood, he was going to have to complete the job the hard way. "Firefly!" he snapped.

"Yo," Firefly replied.

"Get me onto that airship," Roman snarled.

"Torchwick, you can't," Snatcher whispered to him. "Maleficent's up there. You don't stand a chance – "

"Let's GO, Gar!" Roman insisted, ignoring Snatcher.

Firefly seized Roman around the waist and took off into the sky.

Superman and Hawkman both made to follow, but Green Lantern reminded them, "Wait! We have the rest of THEM to deal with first. I guess we're…saving their lives?"

"Well, this is embarrassing for everyone involved," Ragdoll remarked.

"We also have to shut down whatever's feeding the gas into the building," Superman recalled. "Whatever's up there will have to wait."

As Firefly and Roman neared the looming airship, Firefly asked, "So, uh, do you have a plan or anything?"

"Kick Joker's ass," Roman growled.

"Yeah, but do you have an actual PLAN for – "

"No! I don't! I don't have a plan. All I know is that this guy has crossed me one too many times, and now he has to pay his due."

"Normally, this is where I'd turn around because this is an obvious suicide mission," Firefly replied, "but I feel about the same way. Let's bring him down WHAM ARMY style."

"Just cool it with the fire puns, okay?"

"Did you just tell me to COOL it with the FIRE – "

"Don't even start."

Atop the airship, Joker, Harley, and Maleficent waited, watching the sky. "You realize makin' us visible is gonna make 'em wanna come up here, right?" Harley asked.

"That's the idea, dear Harley!" Joker laughed.

Upon reaching the roof, Firefly gently dropped Roman, then landed adjacent to him, both pyromaniacs striking a pose of battle. "I've had just about enough of this, Joker," Roman growled.

"Seriously, Harley, after all this, you're still siding with HIM?" Firefly added.

"After all what?" Harley asked. "After we roughed you guys up a bit and beat you to the punch on that Roman Empire stuff? That still doesn't begin to compare to what you did to me and Mr. J.!"

"Wait a minute," Firefly realized. "Did you actually know – "

Before he could ask if Harley had knowledge of the poison gas, Maleficent struck the base of her staff against the ship's roof, sending a shockwave that knocked Firefly off the ship altogether. As Firefly regained his balance, Maleficent raised her staff high, calling upon a rain of "METEORS OF HEAVEN!" to descend upon him. Firefly was suddenly caught up in dodging this way and that in order to preserve his life in the face of the immense glowing projectiles.

"THAT'S IT!" Roman ran at the Joker full speed, brandishing the Cudgel.

The Joker withdrew a host of knives from inside his jacket, letting them all fly at Roman. Roman hit the floor, the knives passing over him and tinkling softly to the surface of the roof behind him. Roman quickly twisted the Cudgel around to point at where the Joker was, only to find that he had moved; a heavy foot planted into Roman's back, pinning him down. As the Joker stood over Roman, he became aware of the barrel of the Cudgel jamming up against his face.

"Oh, dear," the Joker teased. "However SHALL I get out of this one?" He rubbed his palms together, and Roman heard a slight crackling noise. Then the Joker seized the shaft of the Cudgel, activating a pair of warped joy buzzers in his hands. The shock ran down through the length of the weapon and into Roman's hand. Roman dropped the weapon with a howl as the electricity surged through him.

"Hm…I had rather wanted to punctuate that by saying 'Shocking, isn't it?'" the Joker remarked. "But that one's a bit overdone, don't you think? Speaking of overdone, that's exactly how much I intend you to get cooked!" He slammed both hands down directly onto Roman's back, filling Roman's every nerve with electricity.

The Meteors of Heaven dissipated in the air, leaving Firefly with what he thought was a clear shot at the airship. What he didn't count on was Maleficent being willing to bring out a generous amount of her power to bring him out of play. She strode confidently toward the edge of the airship, staring Firefly down.

"You don't know the first thing about the powers you trifle with," she said with a smile before her physical form erupted upward and surged forth. It took Firefly a moment to realize what he was looking at: an immense jet-black dragon flying straight at him, jaws snapping to swallow him. The gravity of the situation sank in just in time for him to move; he avoided Maleficent's razor-sharp teeth closing around him by a hair. He turned his gauntlets on her, but to no effect; the blast almost seemed to get absorbed by her scaly skin. Her whipping tail snapped against Firefly hard, sending him reeling through the air, disoriented.

"I don't know about you, but I'm having SO much fun!" the Joker laughed amidst Roman's screams. "Though I think there's someone here who wants to have even MORE fun with you. Harley?" He let up on the electric surge, standing to full height; Roman found he could barely move. "Why don't you give the one who killed your puddin' what's coming to him?"  
"Gladly," Harley said coldly, approaching Roman with a baseball bat hoisted high.

Before Roman could protest, the bat was brought down hard upon his back. Then again, and the third time, he felt something crack. He fumbled to pick up the Cudgel, but his hand missed repeatedly.

Firefly regained his bearings just in time to realize Maleficent's head was directly before him, drawing breath to fuel a surge of green flame. He briefly wondered what he wanted his last words to be.

Then another large object, a blur of purple about the size of Maleficent, shoved in between the two of them, acting as a shield to catch the brunt of the flames that Maleficent shot forth. It took Firefly a full half minute to realize that something was another dragon: one much more rounded in shape than Maleficent. The other half of that minute was spent realizing that it wasn't just a dragon, but Mad Madam Mim.

"OUCH!" Mim shrieked as the fire scorched but didn't penetrate her scales. "That hurt! You know, I've had just about enough of you, missy!" She practically tackled Maleficent in the air, and the two dragons set about clawing and scratching at each other. Maleficent was more adept at this form of combat than Mim, and left deep gouges in the purple dragon's sides.

Firefly made, no pun intended, a beeline for where he saw Harley beating Roman and Joker watching with a wide smile. "HARLEY!" he screamed. "HE'S LYING TO YOU – "

He didn't notice Diablo biting into one of the lines of his fuel tank until the propulsion sputtered out. A mere ten feet away from the airship, Firefly found himself plummeting through the air, unable to regain flight. "No," he muttered, "no, no, NONONONONONONO – "

Mim spied his fall out of the corner of her eye. She kicked Maleficent in the stomach with both hind legs, shoving the black dragon away just long enough to make a dive after her comrade. She was able to catch Firefly in one fore-claw, cradling him there.

"Thanks," Firefly panted, too stunned to stand, taking advantage of the moment to just lie still.

"I always hate this part," Mim bemoaned.

"What part? Part of what?" Firefly asked.

Mim swerved, noticing Maleficent beginning to give chase. "The part where Maleficent and her minions have us outclassed," she said, "and we have to give up and go home. She always ruins our fun!"

"We're GIVING UP?"

"That depends. How's Roman doing?"

"Uhh…last I saw, having the snot beaten out of him by Harley. …Yeah. We should probably cut our losses."

Mim swooped over the airship, flicking Harley away with her free claw and scooping up the now broken and bleeding Roman into it.

"Hey, ROMAN!" Firefly yelled.

Roman didn't answer.  
"Not a good sign," Firefly realized.

Mim did a loop-de-loop before Maleficent could catch her, then vanished altogether in a twinkling. Harley, picking herself up, gritted her teeth. "I wasn't DONE WITH HIM!" she screeched.

"There, there," Joker reassured her. "You'll get your chance."

Maleficent landed gracefully on the roof, returning to humanoid form once more. "Consider me impressed with your work here," she said with a smile. "You've performed to my satisfaction and therefore have earned a place among my forces." She smiled at Harley next. "And you to accompany him." She didn't believe Harley had what it took at all, but her loyalty to the Joker could be easily exploited, and Maleficent could think of a couple ways how.

"Wait, huh?" Harley asked. "Accompany new Mr. J…whereabouts, exactly?"

"I'm quite curious to see it myself," Joker admitted. "Maleficent is going to show us a bigger playing field than we could ever imagine!"

"But what about Gotham?" Harley asked.

"We've already got Gotham in the palm of our hand, sweetie!" Joker emphasized. "You think after tonight, we won't be able to do whatever we want when we come back here? Think about the magical worlds you've read about in fairy tales! You'll finally get to visit them all!"

"But…just us?" Harley asked. "What about the others we rounded up for the team? Ivy? Arnie? Nate?"

Joker suspected all of his minions had figured out who planted the poison gas for them to run into, and none of them would be happy about it. "We'll get better ones," he told Harley, giving her a pat on the shoulder.

"But…what about…"

"Oh, don't tell me you're thinking about the firebug and the bendy straw," Joker sighed. "Haven't you figured it out by now? They're not on your side. They don't care about you. They're willing to kill the people you love. They have it out for ME!"

Harley bit her lip, then nodded. "Okay. I'll go with ya."

"I would be ever so lonely if you didn't," the Joker lied.

He, Harley, and Maleficent had vanished by the time Superman, Green Lantern, and Hawkman made it up to the airship to investigate.

Down on the ground, Green Arrow had equipped a rebreather and delved into the depths of the museum to shut down the poison gas. That left Martian Manhunter and the Flash to guard an immense green hemisphere Green Lantern had formed in the street to cage the ne'er-do-wells until the League could figure out what to do with them all. Krank, Gearhead, Karlo, Poison Ivy, Rhino, and Mugsy pounded on the walls of the dome, fruitless as they knew it was. The Ventriloquist stayed off to the side, quietly reflecting. Snatcher and Ragdoll were also quiet; they took their cues from Aghoul. Both knew Aghoul could make a portal to liberate them from the green prison in an instant, but Aghoul was biding his time, and both Snatcher and Ragdoll trusted that he knew what he was doing. They watched from below as Mim teleported herself up to the airship to forge herself into a dragon's body and do combat with Maleficent; they cringed as they watched Maleficent tear into her. Then she vanished from sight.

She reappeared with Roman and Firefly lying to either side of her, her dress soaked through with blood. "MIM!" Aghoul cried in shock.

"Oh, don't make a fuss," Mim insisted, dismissively waving both hands. "It'll heal up into some lovely scars. I'd be more worried about them."

"I'm fine," Firefly announced as he got to his feet; Ragdoll let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. "Roman, not so much."

"Torchwick?" Snatcher said cautiously, worriedly, as he knelt over Roman, who lay face down on the ground. "Torchwick, speak to me!"

Roman's only reply was a strained "Eeeeeeegggggghhhhhhh…"

"It's over," Snatcher resolved, standing. "They've won. We can't risk any more damage. We have to bring Torchwick – and Madam Mim – back to our base of operations for medical attention. Mr. Aghoul, if you would?"

"Nnnnn…no," Roman grunted. "Can't…lose."

"Not PERMANENTLY, Torchwick," Snatcher said quickly, knowing that with Roman's body broken, damage to his ego had to be prevented as much as possible. "We need to regroup. Maleficent will add the Joker to her own forces, and we'll meet again on another battlefield, to be sure. We'll just have to have the upper hand then. As for the struggle today, they simply got lucky. It happens every now and again. And it WON'T happen next time."

"Don't wanna go."

"You MUST go, Torchwick!" Snatcher insisted. "It's the only way you'll stand a chance of defeating them when it counts!"

"It counts now…"

"We've only lost a BATTLE, Torchwick! NOT a war!"

There was silence before Roman mumbled, "Fine."

Aghoul put up his hands to cast a Corridor. "In you go, now! All five of you!"

"Wait, all five?" Firefly did a double take. "You're bringing us with?"  
"You're part of the team now, aren't you?" Aghoul reminded them. "Unless you WANT to stay in a Gotham that very obviously belongs to the new Joker."

"No thank you," Ragdoll replied. "Though there is the question of Harley…"

"Miss Quinn is long gone to us," Snatcher insisted. "Now, the longer we stay here, the more blood Madam Mim loses." His primary concern was with Roman's health, of course, but reiterating that would only make Roman angrier. "Kindly cast the Corridor in such a way that none of us has to move."

"You got it!" Aghoul snapped his fingers, and the Corridor appeared below them, causing himself, Roman, Mim, Snatcher, Ragdoll, and Firefly to sink in.

"Well, I guess we're really part of the WHAM ARMY now," Firefly remarked as he sank.

"Our adventure is only just beginning!" Ragdoll added.

"Wait!" Poison Ivy yelled. "THEY'RE GETTING AWAY!"

The seven former mercenaries of the Joker rushed to the closing portal, but it swallowed up its six occupants and vanished, leaving Poison Ivy, Krank, Karlo, Gearhead, Ventriloquist, Rhino, and Mugsy to the mercy of the Justice League. The last sound heard was that of Ragdoll yelling "TOODLES, GOTHAM!"

...

As Roman, Snatcher, Aghoul, Mim, Ragdoll, and Firefly were deposited safely on the floor of the control room of the WHAM ARMY warship, Aghoul introduced it: "Welcome to our ship! The cold, dead, unbeating heart of our operation!"

"I'm not sure that's how the expression goes," Ragdoll commented.

"Nice digs," Firefly added.

"Feel free to make yourselves at home," Aghoul went on.

Voices sounded from down the hall; one particularly recognizable female was heard to say "As soon as they get back, I'm kicking all their butts."

"You may not want to do that just yet," Snatcher said as Wuya and Vexen walked into view.

That didn't stop Wuya from rushing toward him and seizing him by the front of the shirt, dragging his face uncomfortably close to hers. "You left me behind to deal with Snipe and his moto-jousting," she hissed, "and the best goodbye you could leave was telling me we NEEDED MORE PEANUT BUTTER?"

"We can discuss this LATER," Snatcher growled. "At the moment, we are in need of medical attention."

"Goodness!" Vexen barked. "What in the WORLD did you do to Torchwick?"

"It was that dirty no-good Maleficent!" Mim huffed.

"What did she do to YOU?" Vexen asked.

"Hopefully, left some nice-looking scars," Mim stated.

"Come quickly," Vexen encouraged, matter-of-fact. "We've got to get you bandaged up." He sounded none too happy about having to do so, but accepted it as his duty. "NOT you, Torchwick. I don't like the way your arm is angled. I'm certain you have multiple broken bones. We'll have to transport you more delicately. Wait here with him until – " He then realized there were two more people there than he had expected. "And WHO are these?" he huffed, gesturing to Ragdoll and Firefly.

"New friends!" Aghoul introduced. "Ragdoll and Firefly!"

"Though the actual name's Garfield Lynns," Garfield stated as he removed his helmet.

Peter whisked off his mask. "And you can call me Peter Merkel."

"Charmed," Vexen growled.

"Charmed?" Peter repeated. "Strange name."

"Actually, that's Vexen," Wuya introduced. "Though most of us refer to him as The Grouchy One when he isn't listening."

"Or Iceman," Roman groaned. "Why hasn't that one caught on?"

"And you would be?" Peter asked.

"Wuya," Wuya replied as Vexen and Aghoul escorted Mim away. "Master of the Heylin arts. If you're going to be permanent residents here, there are a few more people you're going to have to meet."

"Well, if they're anything like the crowd we've met so far, this should be interesting," Garfield remarked. "In the good way."

"Tell me a little more about yourselves," Wuya urged.

"In a sec," Garfield said. "One thing I have to get off the table with Peter first." He turned to face Peter. "Harley didn't know."

"Didn't know what?" Peter asked.

"She didn't know that Joker and this 'Maleficent' or whatever tried to poison us all to death. She still thinks we're the bad guys here. The new Joker is the same song and dance all over again."

"And what does this mean for us, exactly?" Peter asked. "That there's a chance she might be persuaded to our cause?"

"I mean, beating up the boss wasn't exactly getting off on the right foot, but yeah," Garfield confirmed. "Is…Roman the boss around here or…?"

Wuya broke out into laughter at that, which she then had to restrain. "No. He ranks high, but you'll meet the actual boss soon enough. As to whether he's actually better at leading a team than Roman is up for debate."

Snatcher knelt by Roman's side once more as they awaited the return of Vexen. "For what it's worth," Snatcher pointed out, "we did actually have a rather solid dominion over Gotham for quite a while."

"Yeah," Roman muttered. "A while."

"You'll take it all back. You'll take something better, in fact."

"I will!" Roman said a little more confidently.

"All in all," Snatcher concluded, "not a worthless venture. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Yeah," Roman finally relented, starting to believe it.

...

As the small army with Sora and Aladdin at its forefront marched into the Agrabah city gates, all were silent. Upon official entry into the city, Stork sighed before stating, "We should probably bring up the Gorge Sloth in the room."

"Yeah," Jaune agreed.

"Probably," Chip said with a somber nod.

"We lost to those cats because of me," Stork said, his voice trembling. "I couldn't…not be scared for two minutes. If I hadn't been there, we could have stopped those cats from setting our entire plan on fire. So…I'm sorry."

"Wait, you?" Jaune replied. "We lost because of ME. I was the one who couldn't keep my fear under control. Ruby, Ren, and Nora were all cool in the face of danger, and I just wasn't. I'm the one who should be apologizing."

"I honestly thought it was me," Chip chimed in. "I might look all cool on the surface, but usually, during any battle, I'm fighting some pretty strong anxiety. I put up a good enough fight, but I think the cats could still tell I was anxious deep down."

"Well, nobody got seriously hurt," Ruby pointed out. "Maybe there's nothing for anybody to say was anyone's fault anyway."

"It's okay to not be able to get over fear," Kairi added. "Sometimes, you just can't. I've always heard that it's about what you do when you're afraid, anyway."

"I didn't know you got that worked up whenever we faced monsters," Nick admitted to Chip. "Did the rest of you? Vida? Maddie? Xander?"

All three of the mentioned nodded.

"I didn't really know how to bring it up," Chip confessed, "but I've always had anxiety issues. I'm actually on a couple medications for it, so I've been fine, but I've kinda been worried about the fact that I know I'm not going to be able to get any of them out here on this adventure."

"Just talk to the Moogles when we get back to Radiant Garden!" Yuffie encouraged. "The Moogle shops sell all kinds of medicines, and there are plenty of doctors who can see you on short notice to write up a prescription for 'em. Kingdoms like Radiant Garden that have to deal with monster attacks and visitors from other worlds on a daily basis just can't work without a good network of doctors."

"Thanks," Chip sighed with relief. "I'll put it on the to-do list."

Stork mentally weighed whether his fear of letting strangers on a strange world know too much about his history crowded out his suspicion that having a slight chat with a Radiant Garden medical professional might do him some good as well.

As the group entered the palace grounds, they were immediately greeted by the Sultan rushing at them at full speed. "You won't believe it!" he cried. "We've found something amazing hidden in the palace!"

"Father!" Jasmine laughed, glad to see her parent in such a good mood. "Don't you even want to know how our mission went?"  
"Oh, of course, of course," the Sultan emphasized with a nod, "but you can tell me on the way!"

And they did, relating to the Sultan that they hadn't found Even and that they had let Mirage loose.

"Oh, dear," the Sultan replied somberly. "But you are all unharmed, yes?"

"Yes, Father," Jasmine confirmed.

"And on the bright side, we know Abis Mal, Haroud Hazi Bin, Amin Damoola, and Mechanicles are all locked up where they can't cause us any trouble," Aladdin added.

"Maybe we shouldn't have left them there," Cadance wondered out loud.

"I am not sure we had any choice," Luna told her.

The Sultan led them all to what appeared to be a blank wall. "AHA!" Papyrus cried. "IT'S A WALL! I WASN'T EXPECTING THAT AT ALL!"

"Oh, it's not the wall that's special," the Sultan said. "It's what's BEHIND the wall." He reached up to tug on the base of a hanging lamp. A section of wall slid away, revealing a narrow stone stairway. "Come on, come on!" the Sultan encouraged, practically dancing up the stairs. "This way!"

The others followed single file, proceeding up the spiral stairs. They led to an open chamber shrouded in shadow and filled with an array of tools and artifacts that looked nothing short of magical. This drew a "whoa" from many of the onlookers.

"Jafar's old lair," Aladdin commented. "I could have sworn you knew about this. Iago let me know where it was. Guess I forgot to bring it up."

"And look!" The Sultan hopped up to a raised platform in the middle of the chamber, where a great glass globe hung overhead. "This is a most strange device! I've spent most of the time you were gone trying to figure out what it could possibly be for!"

"Hmmm…" Genie flitted about the globe, making note also of a large hourglass positioned below it. "Looks like a storm generator to me!"

"Why would you need a storm indoors?" Nick asked.

"I know why I'd want one," Nora offered, "but I know Jafar didn't have my Semblance."

"It must have something to do with the hourglass," the Sultan deduced.

"Let me see." Cadance trotted up to the hourglass to have a look. "There's a spot on top of the hourglass for something to be set. See where the two snakes' mouths join? We have some devices like this back home, and this is where it would be powered by – "

Stork joined her in saying "A crystal!"

"LIKE THIS CRYSTAL?" Papyrus had been observing another table, and he held up a ring with a large stone set in it.

"Why, my blue diamond ring!" the Sultan gasped. "Jafar took that from me a long time ago, and I never did find out what he did with it!"

Cadance levitated the ring before her eyes. "It is the right shape and size to fit in the hourglass," she observed.

"Let's try it!" Aladdin suggested.

Cadance lowered the diamond into the opening atop the hourglass, and Sora, Riku, and Kairi approached. "Thunder on three!" Sora decided. "One…two…three!"

All three pointed their blades at the hourglass and yelled "THUNDER!"

As lightning struck the diamond, piercing into the hourglass, the sands began to swirl and shift. "I wonder what it means!" the Sultan stated with awe.

Genie put out both hands, which turned into radar antennae. "I'm picking up major scrying vibes from this one!" he announced.

"Scrying?" Ruby asked.

"Being able to see what is far away by requesting," Luna clarified.

"So if we ask questions," Vida reiterated, "that hourglass might be able to tell us the answer?"

"That's exactly the reading I'm getting!" Genie retracted the antennae.

"We can figure out where Mozenrath is going," Jasmine realized.

"Maybe we can figure out where the real Book of Prophecies is!" Sora added.

"We could find Even!" Jaune and Kairi said as one.

"Step right up!" Genie gestured to the hourglass. "One at a time, please! Step right up and ask your questions to the all-knowing hourglass!"

Jasmine was first. "Where is Mozenrath going?" she asked the glass.

A vision appeared in the swirling sands, one highlighted by bright colors. Six ovals of varying hue formed a circle. They cracked open at the same time, revealing themselves to be eggs. From each egg emerged a small dragon and a humanoid baby with glowing wings of energy sprouting from their head. The image then faded.

"Well?" Sora asked eagerly. "What'd you see?"

Jasmine shook her head. "I don't understand."

"Tell us!" Sora encouraged.

Jasmine described her vision. "Does that sound familiar to anyone?" she asked.

"Hmm…" Sora thought it over. After nobody volunteered anything, Sora suggested, "Merlin might know. He knows all kinds of magical symbols."

"Let's ask it another question," Jasmine offered, stepping down from the platform.

Kairi ran right up. "Where can we find Even?" she asked.

The sands showed her a view as though she were making her way down a tunnel lined with crystals. People the likes of which she had never seen before worked at extracting these crystals; their skin was gray and their limbs thick. They were obviously not human.

Kairi tried her best to describe those people once her vision faded, and once again, there was silence.

"So far, that's zero for two," Stork pointed out.

"The glass has been giving answers," Luna reminded him. "We just have not been able to see what they mean. Perhaps Merlin can clear that vision up for us as well."

"My turn!" Sora cried as he and Kairi traded places. "Where's the Book of Prophecies?" he asked the glass.

The sand suddenly fell to the bottom of the glass, seemingly dead.

"Ohhh, it didn't like that one," Genie observed. "Looks like the multiverse is set on keeping that one a secret."

"Huh," Sora remarked. "Well, we've gotta be able to find out somehow. Anyone else got any other questions?"

The others all racked their brains, sure they were forgetting something crucial to ask the hourglass that would haunt them once they left the room. "It's too bad we don't have one of these on Radiant Garden to ask questions whenever we got them," Chip muttered.

"Hey," Sadira realized, "what if you did?"

"How?" Chip asked. "Some really powerful magic must've gone into making this thing."

"Magic I know," Sadira insisted. "Or can look up. I'm a Witch of the Sand, remember? I bet I could make a glass of scrying sand we could use anytime! And we could make it even BIGGER so we could all look at it at once!"

"There's gotta be room in the castle for something like that," Yuffie said with a nod.

"You said 'we,'" Ren pointed out.

"Well, yeah," Sadira replied, hands on her hips. "I'm sick of not getting invited on these big adventures, so I'm inviting myself. I'm going back with you to build an hourglass."

"I'm going too," Aladdin added.

"So am I," Jasmine contributed. "After all…"

Both began the phrase "Someone has to take care of – "

Aladdin ended the sentence with "Maleficent."

Jasmine ended it with "Mozenrath."

They looked at each other in surprise.

"Where you go," Genie emphasized, "I go!"

Abu squeaked in agreement.

"Oh, and we're forgetting someone," Genie realized.

"Who'd we forget?" Sora asked.

A blur of blue fabric burst into the room, encircling Sora a few times before coming to rest on end. "Carpet!" Sora laughed, greeting the animate rug.

Carpet, despite having no face, returned an overall air of dissatisfaction.

"Sorry we didn't bring you to the Black Sands," Aladdin apologized. "But not all of us were going to fit on you, and you know it."

Carpet's posture put across a message of "Suuuuuure."

"The more, the merrier!" Sora cried.

"Now, about that hourglass," Sadira mused. "We're going to have to find some kind of crystal to power it. Like a blue diamond, but bigger."

"There's plenty to go around on Atmos," Stork offered.

"Those tunnels I saw in the hourglass were filled with crystals," Kairi added. "Maybe, once we find out where that is, we can pick something up there. We have to go there to find Even no matter what."

One of the royal guards scooted into the chamber. "Your Highness," he panted, "we have a slight…problem. There is an intruder trying to talk his way onto the palace grounds. He is resisting Razoul's authority and using incredibly foul language. We fear he may get violent."

"Foul language?" Yuffie repeated. "Oh, no. Has it been three Radiant Garden days ALREADY?"

"How do I know you are who you say you are?" Razoul growled, standing in front of the gates to the palace grounds.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Cid Highwind groaned. "I just came here to pick up the kids and bring 'em home. I didn't come here to get insulted and put through this shitshow of a wringer!"

"And I didn't claw my way to become head of this guard to be swayed by a foul-mouthed vagabond!"

"That's not a vagabond!" Yuffie yelled hurriedly as she rushed to the gate from the inside. "That's a friend!" She skidded to a halt, then glowered at Cid. "Did you REALLY have to make a big scene out of this?" The others fell into line behind her.

"I ain't the one makin' the scene!" Cid insisted. "That's all on this guy!"

"I am DOING MY JOB!" Razoul argued.

"It's okay," Sora said, stepping forward, hands out, palms up. "It's oooookay. Nobody needs to fight about it."

"Sora?" Cid's jaw dropped. "When'd you get here?"  
"Riku and I dropped off everybody's new weapons," Sora explained. "Can we hitch a ride back to Radiant Garden with you?"

"Eh, I got room for a couple more," Cid said with a shrug.

"What about six more?" Jasmine asked, gesturing toward Aladdin, Abu, Carpet, Genie, and Sadira.

"Just tell me you're not invitin' this guy," Cid growled, jabbing a thumb at Razoul.

"I won't abandon my duty to protect Agrabah," Razoul grunted. "And neither should you, Princess." His gaze turned to Jasmine.

"I'm not abandoning my kingdom," Jasmine told him. "I'm protecting it from the outside. Any action taken against whatever Mozenrath is doing will be good for us." She folded her arms, staring sternly at Razoul.

Razoul knew there was no fighting with her when she had her mind set. "Very well," he relented. "But stay out of danger."

"We'll see about that," Jasmine replied coyly.

"All right," Cid announced. "All aboard who are goin' aboard. This ship's leavin' the station. Next stop: Radiant Garden."

...

Mozenrath, the Huntsman, Xayide, and Yzma had hiked until the sun went down, at which point they found themselves in the midst of a desert. Fitting, the Huntsman thought, though he realized the familiarity was completely lost upon the one person it should have spoken to.

Xayide set up dual tents – one for males, one for females – and put a small campfire between them to light up the night after the sun set. The four travelers gathered in a sitting position around the fire for a while to warm themselves; the desert was hot during the day, but the nights cooled it to almost freezing. For a while, no one spoke.

Then Mozenrath, curious as to why he was still wearing only one gauntlet, peeled it away and flinched with surprise at the sight of his stripped, bony right hand. "Why is my hand like this?" he asked, horror tinting his voice.

"It is a sacrifice you chose to make," the Huntsman answered.

"Every time you use that ridiculous glove," Yzma added, "it drains a little bit of you away."

"So I'm dying," Mozenrath realized. "I'm…killing myself by using magic."

"Essentially," Yzma said somberly.

There was a silence before Mozenrath stated, "If I understand you correctly about what I'm usually able to do when I know how to use magic…then for that kind of power, it's worth it." He sheathed his hand in the gauntlet once more, flicking it at the fire, hoping to make it grow. He flicked it again in hopes of dousing the flames entirely. Neither happened. "Still nothing," Mozenrath sighed.

Yzma, the Huntsman, and Xayide looked to one another nervously. Hearing Mozenrath say the cost of the gauntlet was worth its yields was a good sign insofar as it pertained to Mozenrath's sense of self being where it should have been. However, it was still a pledge on his behalf to keep destroying himself. At least he seemed unable to do that altogether now, but that brought on still more concern regarding what he had lost. Xayide was the only one with any idea of how to even begin teaching him to regain his power, but they had discussed the matter earlier, and she couldn't describe how she cast her own spells; they simply happened as she willed them. This was of no help to Mozenrath.

The four stared into the flickering flames a while longer, momentarily hypnotized. "Well," Yzma decided, "I'm tired out for the day." She rose, disappearing into her tent with a flourish.

"As am I," the Huntsman said, rising to enter the opposite tent.

That left Mozenrath and Xayide. "I really don't think this is fair," Mozenrath said lazily. "You don't have to kill yourself in order to use magic."

"I am fortunate, I suppose," Xayide replied. "As many are."

"Did I have a contingency plan in place for when I ran out of time?"

"I am the person here who would have the least knowledge of that," Xayide reminded him. "After all, you have only known me for a short while."

"I've only known about all of you since the City of Old Emperors. You're the one who's known me least."

"Quite true," Xayide admitted.

"What made you want to follow me anyway?"  
"We explained this. You recruited me and gave me little choice."

"But you never fought back. You went right along with our plan. You sounded like you even enjoyed it."

Xayide smiled at the fire. "You had power. Power I respected. You had drive, and a dream. I felt it was similar to my own. I believed – we believed we could both get what we wanted by allying with each other."

"I'm guessing you regret that right about now."

"No," Xayide realized. "I don't."

"Good. Because I refuse to apologize."

"You aren't an apologetic person. It's something I admire about you."

"Sounds about right," Mozenrath said with a small nod.

Xayide rose. "I too am tired," she announced. "Douse the fire before you take your leave."

"How?"

Xayide handed Mozenrath a canteen she had acquired in one of the small pockets of civilization they had encountered on their journey. "There. Now you are equipped." She disappeared behind the curtain.

Mozenrath stared at the fire for a while longer, wondering if the next sunrise would mark when he would finally return to the place he supposedly called home: the place that, no matter what, would be alien to him. Everything was. There was nothing he could truly say was familiar.

But the Huntsman, Yzma, and Xayide were beginning to get close.

He tipped the canteen over the fire, extinguishing it. Then he entered the men's tent, lying down at the opposite end from the Huntsman.

The Huntsman lay still awake, unable to surrender to the darkness of slumber. Mozenrath must have been able to guess as much; his voice sounded from across the tent. "Huntsman."

"What do you want, Mozenrath?"  
"You're awake. Good."

"I repeat: what do you want?"  
"Tell me about you," Mozenrath demanded.

The Huntsman was caught off guard. "I beg your pardon?"

"You've already told me most of what I need to know about me. Now tell me about you. I need to know why I can trust you."

"You realize the more time we spend speaking, the less time we spend sleeping."

"If you have a problem with that, then go to sleep."

The Huntsman, after a pause, began, "I was born with a mark that decided my destiny." He related the story of his abduction and training by the Academy: the same story he had told Mozenrath not too long ago, before the Ivory Tower. Only now, unlike before, they were separated, lying apart in the dark.

...

The following morning, they came across the oasis.

It was practically a small forest, with tall trees in bloom with multicolored flowers. Smaller flowers sprang up from the moist sands below. The sounds of animals could be heard cavorting amongst the vegetation. Knowing there had to be a pool of water inside, Mozenrath, Xayide, the Huntsman, and Yzma entered in order to fill their canteens.

"Have I ever mentioned how much I hate the jungle?" Yzma groaned as she swatted at small insects.

"This isn't a jungle," the Huntsman informed her. "It is merely an oasis."

"Is there any environment you DON'T hate?" Mozenrath teased.

"The interior of a palace," Yzma answered.

"As soon as we get water, I'll drink it to that," Mozenrath replied.

When they came upon the small pool of clear water in the midst of the trees, the quartet stopped, for it was already occupied. Xayide gasped in shock and recognition.

Kneeling by the water was a young girl, one who did not look any older than ten years of age. Her white-gold hair hung down long past her shoulders, and she was clad in a snow-pale gown. She splashed the water upon her face to wash it before looking up at the four who had interrupted her; her eyes, bright gold, pierced all four of them.

"Hello," she said simply, smiling.

Xayide immediately dropped to one knee knowingly. Mozenrath, Yzma, and the Huntsman found themselves stunned by what followed. If asked, they would have said there was no one they would bow to, save perhaps each other. But, beholding this girl, they were struck with a sense that she was not, in fact, the tender age of ten, nor was she as human as she looked. She was something else entirely. Something old and strange and powerful. This compelled them all to follow suit with Xayide, going down on a knee each, wondering why on earth the sight of this girl prompted such a reaction.

"Your Highness," Xayide greeted. "Golden-Eyed Commander of Wishes."

That was when the others knew: this was the missing Empress. The Empress of the land where all stories were born: stories they, apparently, were parts of, acting as characters in a grander tale. Now they understood slightly better why they were showing her respect.

"This is a strange sight," the Empress, known more intimately as Moon Child, remarked. "Only one of you is Fantastican. The others are all from different Realms of Storytelling, but all of you are parts of stories. It seems that by coming together, you have made a completely new story. It is very odd indeed, but I am glad it has happened."

"There seems to be no escaping the fact that our meeting is odd," the Huntsman muttered.

"You are lost now," Moon Child realized. "Seeking your way in Fantastica. Seeking a way out of it. You won't find it by simply wandering. Fantastica is infinite: a land of no boundaries. You will find land after land within it, and more wonders than you can imagine – "

"Yes, yes, your world is full of magic and wonder and rainbows," Yzma snapped. "Now HOW DO WE LEAVE IT?"

She then realized who she'd just snapped at, and she cast her eyes to the ground sheephisly.

"I cannot offer you an exit," Moon Child stated.

"But…Your Highness," Xayide protested, "you are all-knowing and all-powerful. Surely you could…"

Moon Child shook her head. "I cannot. But I believe I know the first step toward the exit you seek, and I am more than willing to help you. Before you can go home, you must complete the story that needs to be told of your time here."

"I've already apparently tried to take over the entire world," Mozenrath told her, "failed, and lost my memory. What else could I possibly have to do here to finish our story? Please tell me it involves me getting my memory back. Or at least my magic."

"That may very well be a tale for another Realm to tell," Moon Child informed him. "However, there is one other tale to be told here. You, Mozenrath, seek the components of a spell that you believe will bring you ultimate conquest. You have already gathered several of these components. One you still lack is a concentration of Entropy.

"Far away, and yet closer than you think, is another desert: Goab, the Desert of Colors. At least, it is so by day. By night, it is Perilin, the Night Forest. This desert was formed by Bastian Balthazar Bux himself when he rebuilt Fantastica from a single grain of sand. Prior to that, the Nothing had swallowed the entire world, leaving nothing but that one grain. Buried somewhere in Goab is that single grain of sand. It, unlike the sand that surrounds it, is colorless. Because it has survived this world ending and being reborn, it contains an immense amount of entropy, all within a tiny grain. Collect it, and you will have what you need to fulfill that part of your spell. And then, once it is in your possession, you just may find the way back to your home…or it may find you.

"But be warned. Goab only exists because of Grograman, the Many-Colored Death. None can stand in the desert so long as he is there, or they will perish from his mere presence. But the desert does not exist without Grograman, so there is no way to approach Goab without encountering the death Grograman brings. Bastian was protected by my intervention, but I cannot do the same for you. You must find your own solution to survive that which cannot be survived."

"Are there phoenixes in this world?" the Huntsman asked suddenly.

"Yes," Moon Child replied. "Quite many."

"Then I have found the solution," the Huntsman stated cryptically.

"Wait," Mozenrath broke in. "Why are you so willing to help us? We aren't exactly the good guys from your perspective."

"From my perspective, bad is as important as good," Moon Child replied. "Villains are as necessary to a story as heroes are. You, Xayide, should know that more than anyone. It is the reason for your very existence."

"I am aware now," Xayide replied.

"You have a story that needs to be told and finished," Moon Child concluded, "and that is what I wish to help you accomplish. Whether it is a tale of good or evil matters not to me. I do look forward to perhaps hearing one day of the entirety of your strange tale and how it spanned the Realms."

"Well, I may not be sure exactly what it was I was planning on doing," Mozenrath told her, "but I plan on everyone knowing about it once I pull it off."

"If I may ask another question," Xayide interrupted, "why are you here, and when do you plan on returning to the Ivory Tower?"

"I am here because there is still a story to be told about Fantastica in my absence," Moon Child stated. "I shall return when it is my time to return. That is not yet. But it will be soon."

"What kind of story are you talking about?" Yzma asked.

"Another sort," Moon Child replied, "that shall be told another time." She rose. "I must continue on my way, and you must continue on yours. Proceed in any direction and you shall find Goab after some time."

"And where are YOU going?" Yzma asked.

Moon Child breezed past her. "Another time," she repeated. "Another time."

Then she was gone, though in her absence, the oasis still felt strange and sacred.


	35. The Answer in the Sands

35\. The Answer in the Sands

A phoenix crowed, perched atop a sturdy branch in a tree with lavender leaves. It was unaware of its present peril until a bolt of green pierced neatly through its chest, causing its stone-dead corpse to drop to the ground.

It had been far from the first phoenix the Huntsman had killed. He knelt over the phoenix body and began to pluck its feathers.

As he had explained before the great phoenix hunt, "The power of the phoenix is that of restoring and extending life. Phoenix tears are known to act as antidotes to otherwise fatal venoms. And it is said that the down of the phoenix, if applied to an intact corpse within a short span of time after death, can even return the dead to life."

"And can it do anything about my hand?" Mozenrath had asked at the time.

"I do not know," the Huntsman admitted. "I am, however, certain that the feathers of a phoenix should protect us from the aura of death that permates Goab."

And so the hunt had begun. The Huntsman already wore a vest of shimmering red-orange feathers. Mozenrath had traded his cape for one made of the fire-colored plumage, and Xayide wore a layer of feathers over her skirt.

"Can you make this one…fabulous?" Yzma asked.

Xayide flicked her hand, and the feathers the Huntsman had plucked swirled upward into a small cyclone, where they spun and spun before binding together. They settled around the back of Yzma's neck, sprouting into a grandiose collar.

"We are ready," the Huntsman announced.

"If we are ready to enter Goab," Xayide pointed out, "that means we shall find it soon enough."

...

Ursula had called Cruella's squad to action, lining up Medusa, McLeach, Clayton, Sykes, Terminus, the Baduns, Snoops, Hoagy, Edgar, and Cruella herself in one of the dungeon halls. "Maleficent has a special mission for all of you," she chuckled.

"And what manner of mission does she deem befitting our little alliance?" Clayton asked.

"You may have been told of one of our more persistent annoyances," Ursula told them. "A little brat named Mozenrath. His power lies in the manipulation of the Black Sands. Simple Earth magic tied to a substance that was already quite magical. And that got us thinking: what if we had Black Sands of our own? What if we had something better?

"There is one world in particular that we all know is dangerous to mess with. They call it Fantastica. One of the oldest worlds there is. Now, I know what you're thinking. 'Wasn't Radiant Garden the first world brought back after everything was swallowed by Darkness?'"

"Nobody was thinkin' that," McLeach corrected. "Nobody knows what all this Darkness talk even means!"

"Fantastica doesn't play by the rules of other worlds," Ursula went on. "It's disappeared, reappeared, disappeared, reappeared, disappeared…you get the picture. That's where you're going. I wouldn't stray off the path of the mission, if I were you. If you do, well, then you've made your own seabed and you're going to have to lie in it."

"What exactly are we doing, in simple terms?" Sykes asked.

"In the world of Fantastica, there is a desert," Ursula explained. "Goab. The Desert of Colors. Exactly what it says on the label. It's full of sand of all colors, and with magical properties, to boot. Your mission is to collect some of every color of sand and bring it back here so I can use it to give our overall magic a bit of a boost."

"SAND?" McLeach repeated. "You want us to pick up a bunch of SAND? I could do that on my own! Except I'm not going to, because the whole thing is stupid! I'm not wasting my talents on – "

Ursula wagged a finger. "Someone wasn't listening! When I said Fantastica was dangerous, I meant it. Goab is guarded by a monster that is said to be unkillable. Now have I got your attention?"

Most nodded silently; only Terminus spoke, with an unsure "…Unkillable?"

"A lion, to be exact," Ursula stated. "Grograman, the Many-Colored Death. It will take a team of trained hunters to subdue him. The biggest hurdle is getting past the death aura he casts over the whole desert. See, the catch of the whole mission is that if you step into the desert at all while Grograman is alive, you die. And even if you somehow managed to survive that initial encounter, which you will, Grograman himself is no slouch."

"So we kill him first," Medusa decided, "then take the sand for ourselves!"

"Magic has this nasty little habit of playing by complicated rules, I'm afraid," Ursula informed her. "You see, without Grograman, Goab doesn't exist at all. No bloodthirsty lion, no magic sand. Sand first, kill lion later. And you're going to have to deal with him eventually. He's not a fan of invaders. Are we clear so far?"

"Crystal," Cruella answered.

"Fortunately, you're going to have a few aces up your sleeves," Ursula explained. "First of all, you're going to be wearing these."

She brought her hands together, clasping them, then spread them apart, a puff of blue smoke erupting from them. Eight pendants, each consisting of a round, clear crystal on a chain, hovered in the air between her palms. "One for Cruella, Medusa, Percival, Clayton, Bill, Horace, Jasper, and…the Doc," Ursula explained.

"B-b-but…" Edgar stammered. "What about – "

"You, Ernie, and Hoagy?" Ursula finished for him. "You're not going. You'll only bungle the whole operation. Your talents are going to be put to better use here. No offense."

Edgar wiped his brow on the back of his sleeve; Snoops and Hoagy felt similar relief that they wouldn't be dispatched to deal with a literal aura of death.

"I'm not wearin' this girly necklace!" McLeach growled.

"Too bad," Ursula told him. "I guess you'll just die upon arrival in Goab, then. These pendants are crystallized phoenix tears. So long as you wear them, the death aura won't affect you, and you can walk through Goab. Lose one, and…well, from our point of view, you were fairly expendable anyway."

"Expendable!" Medusa barked.

"Bring back the sand," Ursula told her, "and you'll prove us wrong on that account."

The chosen eight reached out to take their pendants and settle them around their necks. Clayton, McLeach, and Sykes were not fans of this particular fashion statement, but knew their lives were far more valuable than their objections toward jewelry.

"As for the other ace up your sleeves," Ursula continued, "are you familiar with the Huntsclan?"

No one answered. Then McLeach barked, "None of us know your dang fairy tales, lady!"

"Perhaps we should have found more experienced mercenaries for the job," Ursula huffed. "No matter. The Huntsclan is – WAS – a society of hunters and huntresses devoted to slaying magical creatures. They were native to one particular world, and the vast majority of them were slain by some upstart brat of a dragon. One of them is reported to be alive again, and working with Mozenrath, no less. The point of the story is that they had developed all sorts of weapons designed for the express purpose of killing monsters. And when they died – " Ursula turned and shoved a wide grate cutting off one of the larger prison cells open. "They left all of those weapons up for grabs." She clapped her hands again, and a light spilled from the ceiling, illuminating the contents of the cell.

There were bows, swords, and axes. There were spears, huntstaffs, and guns. There were even a couple vehicles.

"Take your pick," Ursula offered.

Cruella, Medusa, McLeach, Clayton, Sykes, Terminus, Horace, and Jasper descended eagerly upon the armory, their eyes practically sparkling.

"And what about us?" Edgar asked, gesturing to himself, Snoops, and Hoagy. "What are we supposed to be doing?"

"Well, you're a butler, aren't you?" Ursula asked. "I've got lots of very intense magical work to do, and I could use someone to bring me drinks. The three of you are going to be at my beck and call until your superiors return."

"Well," Snoops remarked, "it beats fighting deadly lions." And Hoagy and Edgar couldn't disagree with that.

...

Snatcher and Wuya were put in charge of giving Garfield and Peter the grand tour of the base. They began by locating Neo in one of the communal downstairs kitchens; she was in the process of making herself a sandwich.

"This is Neo," Wuya introduced. "Short for Neopolitan. Our most dangerous assassin. Just take my word for it and don't cross her."

Neo smiled and waved.

"Miss Neopolitan," Snatcher explained, "meet Misters Peter Merkel and Garfield Lynns. They are new additions to our operation."

"THAT'S your most dangerous assassin?" Garfield reiterated, stunned. "She's about half your size, Archie."

Neo gave Garfield a playful wink.

"First of all, you're not allowed to call me that," Snatcher grunted. "Second, don't judge Miss Neopolitan by appearances…in more ways than one. Her 'superpower,' as you'd put it, is being able to change the looks of things."

Neo slowly shifted her appearance from the top down, taking on her old favorite guise of an emerald-eyed woman with two black ponytails, clad in all black.

"Well, that looks handy," Peter commented.

Neo's face then twisted into a frown. She stormed right up to Snatcher, looking up at him; despite the stark height difference between the two in Snatcher's favor, Neo's emerald gaze was unnerving. Snatcher knew exactly what she was angry at him about. "I tried to stop him!" he argued. "He just went barreling into danger of his own accord!"

"Technically, I flew him up to the ship," Garfield broke in before immediately realizing why that was a mistake.

Neo slowly turned to glare at Garfield. She pointed two fingers at her eyes, then jabbed them back at Garfield.

"But it WAS his idea," Garfield said hurriedly.

"Mr. Vexen is patching him up in the laboratory," Snatcher explained. "He'll be right as rain soon enough."

Neo rolled her eyes.

"I'm even less happy about this than you are!" Snatcher emphasized.

Neo turned on a heel and went back to fixing her sandwich.

"Let's move on, shall we?" Wuya suggested.

As she, Snatcher, Peter, and Garfield left the kitchen, Peter remarked, "With a name like 'Neopolitan,' she must be quite the fan of ice cream."

Wuya hurriedly made a slicing motion across her neck with a pointed stare in Peter's direction.

"Ice cream," Snatcher muttered. "Never cared for it. No particular reason why."

Wuya fell back to the rear of the group, then grabbed Garfield and Peter by the shoulders, drawing them close enough together that she could hiss in their ears, "We don't bring up ice cream here. And we especially don't eat it. I'll explain later."

The next stop was the spacious room that Ravess had designated her practice studio due to its superior acoustics; the group came upon her in the midst of her playing a particularly fierce piece on her violin. All knew better than to interrupt her in the midst of the piece, so they waited as Ravess, with her back to them, played out the final notes. Once the piece was finished, Peter began to clap furiously, startling Ravess.

"Who are THEY?" she barked as she spun round.

"New recruits," Wuya explained. "This is Ravess, our resident archer and musician. Ravess, this is Garfield, our new arsonist, and Peter, our…"

"Master thief and unparalleled contortionist," Peter filled in.

"Charmed," Ravess said haughtily.

"You and Vexen must make quite a pair," Peter commented, realizing where he'd heard that greeting before.

"Really?" Ravess squeaked, suddenly blushing. "You think? I mean, of course, in the logical way. We make logical partners. Battle partners, that is."

"Suuuuuure," Garfield told her. "I gotcha. Like me and Peter are battle partners."

"Exactly!" Ravess said with a nod.

"They're dating," Wuya clarified.

"I take that 'exactly' back!" Ravess said hurriedly, beet red.

"I've never seen you get so worked up before," Wuya remarked. "Whatever's going on between you and Vexen is new – "

"THERE IS NOTHING GOING ON BETWEEN VEXEN AND ME!" Ravess practically shrieked. "Now, if you could please leave me alone, I am in the midst of a very important practice session."

"Question," Garfield brought up. "Do you actually think playing the violin is more important to practice than marksmanship?"

"I can land an arrow at any distance, no matter the circumstances, and I know it," Ravess replied. "This piece, however, is one I only recently learned, and I'm still refining it."

"Would you happen to know where we might be able to locate your brother?" Snatcher asked.

"My brother?" Ravess' grin turned positively diabolical. "Why, I've no idea. I haven't seen him in a while. I'm sure he'll turn up eventually."

"You're not missing much by not meeting Snipe right away anyway," Wuya explained.

As the quartet left Ravess to her practice, Snatcher remarked, "I've obviously missed a lot. There's most definitely something going on between her and Vexen. Care to give me the details?"

"You know as much as I do," Wuya said with a shrug.

The next stop was the trashed reading room. "What happened here?" Garfield asked.

"Snipe was an idiot," Wuya replied, not caring to mention that she was responsible for a large part of the damage.

Irmaplotz was absorbed in a rather large book, tucked away on a plush chair in the corner, behind the downed bookshelf. She looked up and said, "Hey. You the new guys?"

"Yeah," Garfield replied.

"Peter Merkel," Peter introduced, "and my ever-faithful and talented companion, Garfield Lynns. Who might you be?"  
"Princess Irmaplotz," Irmaplotz replied.

"Did…your mom hate you or something?" Garfield asked.

"Sometimes I wonder," Irmaplotz sighed. "Well, welcome to the team."

"That book any good?" Peter inquired.

"Terrible," Irmaplotz said, but her smile widened as her eyes returned to the page.

"One last stop," Wuya announced, turning to walk down the hall. "Now, if you'll follow me, you can – "

"All be free?" Peter finished, keeping pace with her as Garfield and Snatcher fell into step. "Free, you can all be free…"

He broke into song, and Garfield joined him, "As a bird on a big T.V. if you dream, if you dream, if you dream…MY DREAM!" Then the pair collapsed into laughter.

"What's going on, then?" Snatcher asked, very confused.

"It's this stupid, STUPID meme Peter loves," Garfield explained. "So there's this weird kids' show that no one knows anything about. It just kinda plays on one of the fringe channels, and it has all these weird songs. And people took this one song and started putting videos on the Internet of it with weird stuff done to it. Like speeding it up or making it switch to other songs."

"I have NO idea what you've just said," Snatcher admitted.

"I'll explain it later," Wuya told him. "Too much time around Jack Spicer gave me quite the experience with…" She gritted her teeth hard. "MEMES."

They arrived at the pair of levers that marked the entry to the laboratory. "Pull it," Wuya commanded.

Peter reached out and touched one of the levers, but Wuya and Snatcher quickly yelled "NOT THAT ONE!" in synchrony.

"Also…" Wuya steered Garfield closer to the levers, gripping him by the shoulders. "You should probably stand here."

Peter and Garfield traded expressions of confusion before Peter reached out and pulled the correct lever.

They were flipped around the wall and into the cart of the coaster behind it. "What the – " Garfield blurted as the safety bar clicked into place.

Then the coaster took off, careening down the sliding track. At some point, Garfield surrendered to the ridiculousness of it all and just threw his hands up in the air and whooped. Peter did the same not long after.

The cart halted, dumping them both into the laboratory. They found themselves unable to do anything but laugh for a solid two minutes.

"Best base EVER!" Garfield managed in between guffaws.

A second cart came to halt behind the first, spilling Snatcher and Wuya onto the same floor. "I take it you like the coaster," Wuya said coyly. "It was mostly my work, but Yzma's idea."

"Yzma?" Peter repeated. "Interesting name. Is she who we're here to meet?"

"We're unsure if she's even still here," Snatcher answered. "She, Lord Mozenrath, and the Huntsman left for an enigmatic quest of their own shortly before we departed for Gotham."

"Yzma, Mozenrath, Huntsman," Garfield counted off. "Guess that finishes spelling WHAM ARMY. It's Yzma with a 'Y,' right?"

"Correct," Snatcher confirmed.

"That name makes a lot more sense now," Garfield admitted. "So, who do we meet here?"

"It isn't so much 'meet' as 'reunite with,'" Snatcher clarified, beginning a trek deeper into the laboratory. Intrigued, Garfield and Peter followed, with Wuya bringing up the rear.

They found Roman sitting on an examination table, shirtless (much to Snatcher's delight), with Vexen looking over him and raising and lowering the previously broken arm. "I'm fine, Iceman," Roman sighed. "I didn't think you cared this much, anyway."

"I don't care about you in particular," Vexen confirmed. "I care about doing a thorough job for my own sake, I care about NOT having you storm back into this laboratory with any complaints about my medical work, and I respect certain members of this organization who wish to see you healthy. I will decide whether or not you are 'fine.'" He stepped back, giving Roman one more glance. "…You're fine."

"He's FINE?" Garfield reiterated as Roman slid off the table. "He had BROKEN BONES. That was an HOUR ago. What did you DO?"

"My job," Vexen answered dryly. "I see you are from a world that is primitive in the ways of magic. It always is amusing to see how easily impressed such people are with such mundane procedures."

"So I take it you're doing the grand tour," Roman stated.

"Last stop," Wuya confirmed. "Unless Yzma, Mozenrath, and the Huntsman are back."

"Those three have been gone a suspiciously long time," Vexen realized. "I suppose this would be cause for concern."

"I'll check on them," Wuya resigned.

"How are you going to do that?" Vexen asked. "You don't even know where they are!"

"No, but I have all the tools I need to figure it out," Wuya replied, sauntering into Yzma's side of the laboratory. "If anyone needs me, that's what I'll be doing. You don't think Yzma will mind – no, she probably won't." She plucked implements from cabinets, setting them out on the table. "Snatcher, you can finish showing them to their rooms, can't you?"  
"Certainly," Snatcher replied, "though I can't shake the feeling we've forgotten to introduce someone."

Wuya shook her head. "We looked for everyone. We didn't forget anything."

"If you insist," Snatcher said with a shrug. "Gentlemen, the exit is this way."

Roman debated putting on a shirt, but he rather wanted to show off so long as his significant other was in the vicinity. "We should get you guys some scrolls," he decided as he took Wuya's place in the touring party. "That way, you can keep in touch, AND I can text you guys unwanted memes."

"Who said memes were unwanted?" Peter replied with a wink.

Snatcher didn't even bother pointing out, yet again, that he still had no idea what a "meme" was.

A small blur zoomed around the corner as the touring party passed one of Vexen's worktables. As this blur got close to Garfield, Garfield gave a scream and leaped onto the table, knocking over several beakers and flasks in a rain of glass that Vexen would be none too happy to clean up later. "WHAT THE HECK IS THAT?" he yelled at what he perceived to be an unholy abomination.

"Mozenrath?" Xerxes asked, looking over Garfield and Peter. "…Not Mozenrath."

"Xerxes!" Snatcher realized. "KNEW we were forgetting someone! Gentlemen…this is Xerxes. Sort of a team mascot, if you will."

"New people!" Xerxes observed, flying and bending in a vertical circle.

"I can do that too, you know," Peter told him. "Just not in the air." He bent over backward, rolling into a wheel for a few feet before straightening back up into a standing position.

Xerxes chuckled. "Xerxes like you!"

"Garfield doesn't like you," Garfield muttered, still of the mind that Xerxes was nothing short of creepy.

The eel was left behind, and Garfield and Peter were shown out of the laboratory and to their quarters. "You'll be staying here," Snatcher introduced.

"Seriously?" Garfield stepped into the network of rooms. "I was expecting a bedroom or two. This is like our own apartment."

"This entire ship was its own kingdom once," Roman informed him. "Everybody gets digs. Figured you two would wanna share."

"You figured right," Garfield confirmed.

"We'll let you two get settled in," Snatcher told them. "Give you what I'm sure is some much-needed privacy…if you catch my meaning."

"Yeah, about that…" Garfield very nearly corrected Snatcher's implication before realizing it was none of Snatcher's business. "What time is it, anyway?"

"We don't really have 'days' or 'nights' around here," Roman said as he withdrew his scroll from a pants pocket, "so we all collectively kind of just decided on a time to start synchronizing our scrolls. And right now, on WHAM ARMY time, it would be…" He glanced at the screen. "Eleven p.m. Night's still young."

"Night owls as we are," Peter told him, "it may be a night to actually turn in early. We've had quite the day."

"Agreed," Garfield said with a nod.

"Suit yourself," Roman said as he turned to leave the apartment. "Don't you kids have TOO much fun, now."

"We'll reconnect tomorrow," Snatcher vowed as he also took his leave, shutting the door behind him.

The kitchen in the apartment was not as large as the communal facility where Neo had been spotted, but it still contained many of the essentials. Garfield cracked open the refrigerator and read the label on one of many bottles that stood in a neat line in the back of the upper shelf: "'Yorka juice.' Do I wanna know what a yorka is? Don't answer that; I'm too thirsty to care." He removed the bottle, slammed the refrigerator door shut, procured a pair of glasses from a cabinet, plopped them on the counter, and split the bottle's contents evenly between both glasses before taking a long swig. After Peter watched Garfield down his portion of juice without gagging, he took a deep draught from his own glass; the yorka juice was incredibly sweet, and if Peter had to equate it to the taste of a fruit to his own world, the closest he could get was mango tinged with blueberry.

The pair put their glasses down on the counter at the same time. "So this is our life now," Garfield sighed, looking directly into Peter's eyes. He couldn't help but smile.

"Our rather hasty and unceremonious retreat from the new Joker aside," Peter replied, his usual wide grin in place, "things seem to be looking up. We've certainly found ourselves among an eccentric crowd."

"Do we run with any other kind?"

They clinked the lips of their glasses against each other. Garfield lifted his arm to take another drink; Peter quickly and lithely wrapped his arm through the crook of Garfield's elbow before doing the same so that they both drank with arms linked.

...

"WE'RE BACK!" Sora cried as he ran through the doors of the Radiant Garden castle with his large entourage in tow.

Aerith and Leon had been on their way down the stairs; Aerith broke into a run the rest of the way when she saw that the group had returned. "Welcome back!" she said joyfully as she spread her arms; she and Sora exchanged a brief hug.

"Should I find the usual people?" Leon asked.

"Yeah," Sora told him. "Let's get everybody into the library. We have a lot to talk about!"

The adventurers and the Committee were arranged, and the adventuring party took turns telling their tale. The Committee listened in interest.

"We may not have found Even," Kairi said, "but if the hourglass is right, he's probably still alive."

Lea let out a sigh of relief.

"And that's why we're thinking of putting our own hourglass in THIS castle," Sadira concluded. "Which is NICE!"

"Having a way to scry for answers to our questions is a good idea," Leon said with a nod. "You're welcome to stay for as long as you need to in order to complete it."

"I can stay? HERE?" Sadira gaped.

"We let you stay over at the palace all the time," Aladdin teased.

"Yeah, but that's in our homeworld," Sadira reminded him. "I've never seen anything like THIS before!"

"I wonder if the Moogles will help us forge the glass and build the receptacle for the crystal," Aerith volunteered.

"I KNOW Merlin can help out with some of the magic part of it," Yuffie egged on.

"Oh, all right, all right!" Merlin huffed. "If you so insist!" Yet it was rather obvious he was eager to help.

"Merlin!" Sora realized. "We need your help with more than just that! We were hoping you would know what the things we saw in the hourglass in Agrabah mean."

"Remind me again of your first vision," Merlin commanded. "The one you saw when asking about Mozenrath."

"There were six eggs," Jasmine explained. "Each was a different color. When they hatched, a dragon came out of each one, followed by a baby that looked human but had wings sprouting from its head."

"Why, that one's obvious!" Merlin realized. "My dear girl, you were shown the Eliatropes! More specifically, their leaders, the Twelve."

"What's an…Eliatrope?" Sora asked.

"Eliatropes are a mysterious people with the ability to create portals at will," Merlin explained. "An ancient war with a hostile army caused them to flee from world to world. They were ruled by the Twelve: six Eliatropes and their dragon siblings. The Eliatrope leaders hatched from dragon eggs, you see, and each has a twin. The Twelve are immortal in a way. Each time they die, they reincarnate and hatch from their eggs, called 'dofus,' once more, with their memories erased. I believe I know the exact world upon which the Eliatropes make their home to this day: the World of Twelve. I can give you directions to reach it by Gummi later."

"And how do you know all this?" Stork asked.

"I've been around quite longer than you suspect," Merlin answered, "and I've traveled across nearly all of time, to boot. Except the frustrating thing about time is there keeps being more of it made, and that means more of it to explore, and it begins to be a chore."

"WAIT A MINUTE!" Papyrus realized. "IF YOU CAN TRAVEL THROUGH ALL OF TIME, THAT MEANS - !"

"That means you know the answers to all of our questions already!" Ruby gasped.

"Not necessarily," Merlin told her. "In my trips to the future, it seems to be different each time. I have seen a hundred possible futures, and in none of them did I encounter you having traveled to the World of Twelve or building a scrying hourglass in Radiant Garden. Believe me, I've tried to go forward and figure out what some of our more persistent enemies have been planning and what the outcome will be, but it turns out the flow of time is far more complicated than that, and sometimes, even I can't make heads or tails of what just happened! One great big mess, is what it is!"

"Is there anything that ain't a great big fuckin' mess to you?" Cid groaned.

"Well, the library at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, off the top of my head," Merlin answered. "The rest of the school and its surrounding world are an absolute tangle, but the library seems well-kept no matter what." He cleared his throat. "And what was the second vision? The one that apparently told the location of Even?"  
"It was a world full of tunnels and crystals," Kairi replied. "The people working in the tunnels were…hard to describe. They were gray."

"Hmm, I do think I know what you might be describing!" Merlin realized. "There is a rather large world composed of an absolute myriad of planets. It is, unfortunately, referred to as Galra Space nowadays, as it is currently mostly under the control of an army of warlords by that name. It is there that you will find the celestial body known as the Balmera. Not a planet, mind you, but a planet-sized living creature that produces crystals as secretions! Its people harvest the crystals and give back energy in return. Though the last I saw of it, it was a prime target for the Galra to capture and harvest the crystal energy."

"Do you think the Balmera would let us have one of its crystals to power the hourglass?" Kairi asked.

"If you paid it back in kind," Merlin replied. "And, of course, if you spoke of the matter with its people. The crystals belong to them first and foremost! You will need not only coordinates to find Galra Space but also to navigate within it. It seems a wizard's work is never done."

"If the Balmera doesn't have a crystal that works," Stork reminded Kairi, "there's a small chance Atmos may have something that fits what you're looking for. Maybe. Small chance."

"Atmos…" Merlin hung his head, shaking it slightly. "I am afraid that when I journeyed to that world to return Huginnmuninn to his true shape, I came across a rather distressing sight. Much of the Atmosia side had been attacked by some sort of warship, leaving most of the Terras in states of destruction and disarray."

Stork flinched as though he'd been hit by a large and heavy object. "You…saw…what?"

"Most of the reports were that of the Cyclonian warship regaining power and carving a path of destruction before leaving the world entirely," Merlin said somberly. "I was able to trace the destruction to Terra Atmosia, where the all-important Aurora Stone's shards had been taken."

"Don't tell me," Stork said through gritted teeth. "Maleficent."

"Not by description," Merlin corrected. "The Atmosian guards claimed the shards were stolen by a younger man with raven hair, brandishing some sort of magical gauntlet."

"MOZENRATH!" Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, Stork, and Jasmine cried as one.

Ruby turned to look at Stork. "Do you wanna go back to Atmos? Try and fix things?"

"I'm afraid the damage is far greater than you can fix," Merlin announced.

"I…don't even know if I could handle seeing it," Stork admitted. He clenched his fists. "If Mozenrath is the reason everything's ruined…then I'm going after him."

"It may give you hope to know that I did meet with a young man on Atmos who seemed determined to right the wrongs that had occurred," Merlin recounted. "We met in a Wasteland, and he was piloting a skimmer to who knows where. I've no idea what he thought he could do, but he seemed to have faith he could make some sort of change. He had a most intriguing name. Aerrow, I believe it w – "

"AERROW?" Stork practically screamed. "You found Aerrow? He's ALIVE?"

"Maybe all the Storm Hawks really did survive!" Ruby chirped.

"I wonder if he'll find Finn or Piper," Sora commented.

"DOESN'T THAT JUST LEAVE TWO?" Papyrus asked.

"Junko and Radarr," Stork said with a nod. "I'm not gonna get my hopes up. What matters NOW is that we track down Mozenrath in this World of Twelve and…" He knew Papyrus wouldn't want to punish Mozenrath with death. Perhaps it wasn't the best way to go about things after all. "…make him give back the shards."

"So who's all on board for the Mozenrath-chasing team?" Sora asked. "Because I think that's my team. Me, Stork…"

"Gotta bring me along," Ruby told him.

"ME TOO!" Papyrus insisted.

"So the usual team, then!" Sora laughed. "What about you, Riku?"

"I…don't know," Riku admitted. "There are so many other places that need help. Atmos. Remnant. I feel like they're all calling for me."

"Me too," Nick and Xander said as one.

"Above everything else, I think we have to keep an eye out for Maleficent," Riku went on.

"Same here," Aladdin agreed.

"I think chasing Mozenrath is just as important," Jasmine broke in.

"I'd love to go with you, Sora," Riku said at last, "and I'd love it if you could stay with me. But I think we're after different things. Not to mention Kairi's probably going to Galra Space. Even if we don't have our Keyblades, this makes three teams, each with a Keybearer, and that's probably safer."

"I guess that makes sense," Sora relented. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too."

They stepped toward each other, clasping their right hands in each other tightly. Then they closed the distance, using that touch to pull each other closer for a kiss.

"AAAAAWWWW!" everyone else in the room cooed.

"Like we didn't all see this coming!" Nora followed up.

As Sora and Riku parted, Sora said cheerfully, "It won't really be like we're that far apart. After all, we always have each other, don't we?" He tapped his chest, where his heart was. "Right here!"

Riku folded his hand over the same place on his own body. "Where we can keep each other safe."

"Are…we splitting up too?" Aladdin asked Jasmine. "To different teams, I mean."

"I can't just stand back and ignore Mozenrath," Jasmine stated. "Even with Maleficent and Jafar out there. You remember what Mozenrath did to us. He tried to dominate the whole Seven Deserts. If he knows about other worlds, that can't mean anything good."

"I agree," Aladdin said with a nod. "But Jafar is even more powerful."

"Then maybe we do need to split up," Jasmine realized. "Both of these threats need our attention."

"They might be just about as important as each other," Aladdin conceded. "But it'll be okay. It's like Sora and Riku said. I'll be keeping you with me right in my heart."

"And you'll be in mine," Jasmine replied.

They, too, had to share a kiss, drawing out another "AAAAWWWW!" from observers.

When they parted, Jasmine turned to Sora. "Looks like I'm joining your team."

"And I'm with you," Aladdin told Riku.

"So…are you going to Galra Space?" Madison asked Kairi.

"I have to," Kairi confirmed. "That's where Even is. I have to save him. And I can finish the hourglass while I'm there."

"Then that's where I'm going," Madison decided. "Blue buddies, remember?"

"BLUE BUDDIES!" Genie broke in, wrapping Madison and Kairi each in an arm and squeezing them in a tight but not uncomfortable hug. "Let's set a course for Galra Space!" As he let go, he transformed into the shape of a man wearing a yellow shirt that would have been recognized by many as a Starfleet uniform. "The final frontier!"

"Hey, now," Vida broke in. "I've gotta look after my little sister. Count me in."

"And me," Jaune added. "Because…well…I want to."

"Can I come?" Chip asked. "After, you know, those errands we talked about."

"I think all of us have errands we have to take care of before we can leave, anyway," Kairi said with a smile. "Anybody else for Galra Space?"

Cadance stepped forward. "I, too, want to rescue Even. I know we've never met, but he seems so important to you."

Carpet tapped Genie on the shoulder. "You want to come along too?" Genie asked. "You and me, just like old times!" He smacked Carpet's tassel in what passed for a high-five.

"Carpet is mostly blue," Madison realized. "He can be a blue buddy too!"

"Luna?" Cadance asked.

Luna shook her head. "As a princess of the night, I feel I must attend to where the Darkness is strongest. And that means following Riku."

"Riku hasn't steered us wrong yet," Nora added, and Ren nodded. "We're stickin' with him."

"Nick?" Riku asked. "Xander? You two seemed to agree with what I thought I should do."

"And we're with you!" Xander confirmed.

"Sure are," Nick added.

"Yuffie?" Cid asked. "You gonna run off on some adventure with 'em again?"

"I think I'm adventured out for a bit," Yuffie admitted. "Besides, I'm the glue that holds this Committee together!"

"I thought that was me," Lea joked.

"I think that's everyone," Sora realized. "All right, everybody! Let's go! To the World of Twelve!"

"To Galra Space," Kairi added.

"To a place I don't know yet," Riku contributed, "but somewhere we can make a difference."

...

Garfield dreamed of the entire warship exploding.

He awoke breathing shallowly. His transformation into the monstrous Phosphorus and back had left him with a few souvenirs, one of which was heavily intrusive thoughts about destruction. During the daytime, he had gotten better at dealing with them, but at night, they ruled his mind whenever they chose to enter.

It always proceeded the same way. He would first have the vision, the dream, the thought of causing the utter annihilation of his surroundings. Then he would briefly enjoy it, an unbidden reaction. Then he would realize that he'd been happy, yet again, at the thought of whatever good he had going for him going up in flames. His mood would quickly gel into fear and disgust. As much as Gotham had irked him, there were things in it he cared about; things he knew should be protected, not destroyed. And here on the WHAM ARMY battleship, there were even more. Peter was the apex of it all; Garfield had vowed never to try and harm him the way he had almost done when he was Phosphorus, and realizing he'd had a fantasy of an event that would culminate in Peter's demise made him shiver with revulsion.

First he took stock of his location. He had woken up in a soft bed with a set of spindly limbs wrapped tightly around him. He thought back to Snatcher's early assumption that what he and Peter would get up to behind closed doors would be sexual. What he hadn't thought it any of his business to mention – and obviously Peter had agreed, as he hadn't said anything either – was that Peter was completely asexual, having actually had his genitalia removed so as to not have to concern himself with it when bending into impossible positions. Garfield had no qualms with this. After all, when he had become Phosphorus, he had learned that he was willing to give up his ability to even touch another human being in exchange for power, though he was determined not to go to those lengths again. He was also perfectly capable of fulfilling his carnal desires by his own hand, so to speak. He and Peter did prefer, all the same, to sleep in the same bed, at least half-clothed if not fully so. That particular night, due to the abruptness of their move to new quarters, Garfield was stripped down to the thin underclothes he had worn beneath his battle suit while Peter had settled into bed in almost full costume as Ragdoll. The arrangement benefitted Peter greatly in terms of temperature; another leftover aspect of Phosphorus was that Garfield's body temperature was ever so slightly higher, and he radiated a small amount of comfortable heat even in cool environments. Peter was a chronic cuddler, preferring to wrap both arms and legs around Garfield in a tangle that, often times, only he knew how to undo, effectively trapping Garfield in place until Peter woke up.

And Peter was a heavy sleeper.

This was far from the first night Garfield had awoken needing to clear his mind from unpleasant dreams, yet the task of getting Peter to let go of him never seemed any easier than in past nights. Garfield first tried to squirm out of Peter's grip without untangling him, but Peter's grip was vise-tight. He then tried to undo the knot that Peter had made out of his arms, but with little success.

"Well, I hope you're comfortable," Garfield huffed. "Peter. Wake up and let me go."

He was met with a wordless mutter of half-formed syllables.

"Will you just wake up?"

"Nnnnnnnnn…no."

"I need to…" Garfield didn't want to admit that the dream had happened to him again. "Use the can, okay? Let go."

With a half-awake and very dissatisfied grumble, Peter loosened his grip enough for Garfield to leave him behind in the bed. "Was that so hard?" Garfield whispered as he left the bedroom.

The apartment didn't have a fireplace. His previous Gotham safehouse, Peter's personal apartment, had a fireplace, and that was the key to defeating past instances of the dream. However, it did have a stove with four burners that looked relatively old-fashioned. Garfield figured they would work.

He vaguely recalled where the reading room was where he'd met Irmaplotz, and he found his way there with some trial and error. To his surprise, Irmaplotz was still there, now sprawled out on the floor with what Garfield was sure was a different book splayed in front of her. "Uh…hey," he greeted.

"Hey," Irmaplotz replied without looking up.

"So…" Garfield asked awkwardly, "you read a lot of the books in here?"  
"Yup."

"Found any really bad ones?"

"Oh, you want bad books?" This got Irmaplotz to look up from her tome, scrambling to her feet. "I'll show you some bad books." She plucked one from one of the still-standing shelves. "This here is your typical romance story between a teenage girl and a supernatural creature. Purple prose, forced dialogue, limited characterization, and dysfunctional concepts of 'love.'" She took down another one. "This poet gives Ped Xing a run for his money." Another. "A history of the world this ship came from, and it's boring, boring, boring." Another. "Grammatical errors." Another. "I'm pretty sure this one was badly written on purpose by somebody who wanted to try and get the worst book possible published as a joke. Happens more often than you'd think." Another. "Author tries to put his point across by just having as many bad things as he can think of happen to his main character with no payoff and a one-dimensional theme. The last chapter of the book is just his political philosophy, and then it ends with no clear resolution." Another. "This would be well-written horror if every single twist wasn't predictable." She reached for yet another –

"I'm good," Garfield told her. "That should do."

Irmaplotz transferred the stack of books into Garfield's hands. "If you need more, just ask."

"Oh, I will."

Garfield had almost made it out the door before he heard Irmaplotz say "Let me know what you think. Oh, and just put them on that table when you're done. I don't know which one I want to re-read first, but I want to get back to all of them eventually."

Garfield stopped. He then turned back around with a sigh, dumping all the books on the aforementioned table. "Let me rephrase. Which books around here will no one miss?"

Irmaplotz raised an eyebrow. "What were you going to do to my books?"

"You don't wanna know."

Irmaplotz was only able to produce one book. "It's the dictionary," she explained as she handed it over to Garfield. "Nobody here will miss the dictionary. Everyone here either doesn't need it or will refuse to use it."

"Guess I owe you one for this. You ever need something burned with no evidence of who did it left behind, just call me up."

"Duly noted."

"Also, why do you like terrible books?"  
"Why do you like setting things on fire?"

"Point taken."

Garfield returned to his quarters with the dictionary, trying to be fairly quiet despite the knowledge that Peter was likely to sleep through the apocalypse. He turned on one of the burners of the stove, unaware that it was powered by a small red crystal rather than gasoline. He was delighted to see small flames ring the burner, and he set the dictionary down, watching the fire work its way through the thick book, curling and blackening the pages, disintegrating the cover to ash.

"Using the bathroom, hm?"

Garfield was startled into turning around to see Peter leaning against the door frame. "You're awake," he said, kicking himself for stating the obvious.

"And you had the dream again."

"Yeah," Garfield admitted. "About this place, this time. Blowing it all up." He switched the burner off; he didn't want to risk losing the book while he wasn't watching.

"Creative solution," Peter commented. Usually, in his safehouse, he let Garfield make use of the fireplace to burn a book. Once he'd discovered what Garfield needed in order to clear his mind – which was, in clear terms, to watch something small burn, to watch the fire he so loved consume something inconsequential – he had acquired, through means both legal and illegal, the romance novels of the worst repute he could dig up, largely of the pornographic genre: novels he would never read and never miss. Whenever Garfield awoke from the dream, he could simply pluck one out of Peter's bad book stash and throw it on the fire.

"Look," Garfield sighed, "we both know this is something really good. I don't wanna screw it up. I don't even wanna think about screwing it up." And I don't want to think about hurting you, he didn't add.

"I know," Peter said in understanding. He took a few strides across the kitchen until he stood near Garfield; he gently grasped Garfield's shoulders and turned him back around to face the stove. Keeping one hand pressed lightly on Garfield's left shoulder, he slid his right hand to surround Garfield's, guiding his fingers back to the burner switch. Garfield fired the burner back up, and in silence, the pair watched the dictionary turn to ash.

...

Goab, the Desert of Colors, was aptly named. Its sands stretched out in striations of every hue, a swath of plum adjacent to hot pink, citrine near lime, sky blue with blood red. Its dunes rose and fell in rainbows, creating high hills and low valleys.

Crossing onto these variegated sands, Mozenrath, the Huntsman, Yzma, and Xayide all felt a chill pass over them. It was a reminder of the aura that they should not have been able to survive, but that the phoenix feathers kept them safe from.

"How are we to find a single grain of sand in all of this?" Xayide asked.

"I've been thinking about that," Yzma replied. "The best I could come up with begins with us acquiring an enormous feather duster – "

"No," the Huntsman said sternly.

"I wanted to hear her out," Mozenrath stated.

"No," the Huntsman corrected. "You didn't."

"I have a question that may or may not be related," Mozenrath then said. "What's this?"

He held out an open palm upon which rested the Amulet of Avalor. The gem's violet depths pulsed with a faint glow of light blue.

"The Amulet of Avalor," the Huntsman explained. "A trinket that belongs to an accomplice."

"That's what brought us here, isn't it?" Yzma realized. "That botched locator spell caused it to lead us right here. That spell was SUPPOSED to lead us to an element of concentrated Entropy – "

She halted herself. Realization sank in.

"It's been pointing us here all along, hasn't it?" Yzma said rather sheepishly. She thought to add that they would have found the grain of sand much, much earlier if someone hadn't decided to try and take the throne of the entire world, but that seemed somehow inappropriate, given the current circumstance.

"It just started getting warmer," Mozenrath announced.

"Perhaps it will lead us to what we seek," Xayide suggested.

Mozenrath dangled the amulet from its chain, holding it at arm's length. "Where do you want us to go, you little trinket?" He slowly swung his arm in an arc, noting the exact position at which the blue glowed just a little brighter. "That's better."

As Mozenrath, Xayide, Yzma, and the Huntsman ventured into Goab from one end, a pair of small off-roaders and a disc-shaped skimmer careened over the sands from the opposite direction. Cruella de Vil was at the wheel of one car, with Terminus in the passenger seat and the Badun brothers sitting folded up in the back. The other car was driven by McLeach, with Clayton occupying the passenger seat and Sykes taking up the back. Medusa piloted the skimmer. All involved were more nervous than they cared to admit, given who was driving each vehicle, as it was general knowledge that a crash between all three vehicles was only a mistake away. Cruella had already nearly overturned her own car on a steep dune, McLeach had almost flipped his riding downhill, and Medusa had endured near misses with the rooftops of both cars and the explosive missiles strapped to them.

They stopped at the edge of a high dune where the striations of color were particularly thin, offering a variety to collect. Cruella slammed her brakes so hard, Terminus was flung rather jarringly against the dashboard. McLeach's car spun a 180 as he halted. Medusa all but crashed.

"Everyone to a different color!" Cruella barked. "Now, now, now! Who knows how long we'll have before that lion comes after us!"

"We have nothing to fear from the lion," Clayton tried to reassure her.

"Yeah!" McLeach insisted, readying a Huntsclan standard-issue crossbow that released green beams of energy. "I'll give it a mouthful of this!"

"Or we could kill it with a man's weapon," Clayton argued as he hoisted a cannon above his shoulder.

"It's not the lion she's worried about," Sykes reminded them. "It's the fact that once we kill the lion, our time in the desert is up, and Maleficent will want us to pay up."

The eight split up, each finding a different color and filling a small pouch full of it. They all stood almost simultaneously upon finishing. "Everyone's done?" Cruella confirmed. "Back in the cars, all of you! We'll find another spot – "

"SHHHHHH-sh-sh-sh-sh-shhhhhhh!" Medusa hushed. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear?" Terminus repeated. "I don't hear anyth – "

"Because you are TALKING!" Medusa hissed.

A silence fell, and the squad of eight could hear voices from the other side of the dune:

"We're definitely getting closer."

"We still have to find a single grain of sand, you know. Even if the Amulet leads us to the general area, it's going to be buried."

"Then we'll make you dig for it."  
"ME? Why ME? You're the one who actually LIVES in a desert! If you could remember it, this would feel just like home to you!"

Cruella and her companions crept up to the peak of the dune to see Mozenrath, the Huntsman, Yzma, and Xayide some distance away, trekking toward a goal Cruella couldn't discern. She slowly covered her mouth with a hand, knowing that if she laughed, she would give away her position. Yet she so desperately wanted to laugh. She had come for the sand, and, if all went well, was about to leave with Mozenrath in her possession, alive or dead; either would satisfy Maleficent.

"What are you looking at?" Sykes grumbled.

"One of Maleficent's most wanted," Cruella replied, her grin wide.

The Amulet gave a sharp tug at Mozenrath's hand, suddenly wishing to fly forward of its own accord. The second time it tried such a thing, it succeeded, with Mozenrath losing grip completely. The Amulet surged forth until it planted itself in the sand without warning, glowing brightly blue against a backdrop of deep green. Mozenrath, the Huntsman, Yzma, and Xayide ran after it, dropping to their knees where it landed.

They all saw it at the same time. One single speck of the sand that had covered half the gem was not green at all. To the untrained eye, it at first appeared white.

"We must pick it up without losing it," the Huntsman stated.

"I'll make it easier." Xayide's hand passed over the grain, and it enlarged to the size and shape of a rough pebble. It was now clear that the grain was not, in fact, white. White was a color, and the grain lacked all color whatsoever.

"Pure entropy," Mozenrath said as he gathered what was now a stone into his hand.

"Well?" Yzma huffed. "We found the grain of sand. The Empress said we'd find a way home after this." She stood up to get a look at her surroundings. "But all I see is – "

Her eyes widened. Her lips pursed. "Oh…no," she muttered.

Xayide, the Huntsman, and Mozenrath turned to see a missile soaring directly for them.

Xayide snapped her fingers, and the missile exploded in the air before it could reach its target; the shockwave caused all four to stumble. Both off-roaders barreled down the dune, with the skimmer floating above, and while the Huntsman didn't recognize any of the vehicles' occupants, he was well aware all were hostile. "PREPARE FOR BATTLE!" he commanded.

Yzma drew her atlatl. Xayide raised both arms to stretch out, prepared to cast heavy magic. Mozenrath, not quite sure what he could do to contribute, simply shuffled to the back of the group awkwardly.

Xayide shoved her arms forward, and a tidal wave of sand surged over the three vehicles, burying them and upending both cars. Medusa's skimmer erupted out of the pile of sand; the others all struggled out of their cars and surged forth on foot. McLeach started to fire green bolts from his crossbow; Clayton sent out larger projectiles of energy from the cannon. Horace and Jasper drew back twin longbows, and arrows of lime-colored energy appeared in both before letting loose.

Xayide tried to stop each with a small barrier, but instead of deflecting, the projectiles were only slowed, as though they'd been fired into hot glue. They lost enough momentum that they were easy to dodge, but Xayide still screamed in horror, "WHY IS IT CUTTING THROUGH MY MAGIC?"

The Huntsman visibly flinched. "Those weapons are built to resist most types of magic," he explained. "They belong to the Huntsclan!"

As he said this, Sykes and Terminus descended upon him. Sykes swung a double-bladed axe that blazed with green aura, and Terminus brandished a mace – nowhere near as big as Snipe's, but still threatening – with the same light. The Huntsman parried blows from both, and the three became locked in a close-range duel.

Cruella faced off against Yzma; the former had a shining black purse slung over one shoulder. "What do you WANT from us?" Yzma hissed.

"We want to bring you back to Maleficent so you IDIOTS can stop being underfoot from her every scheme," Cruella replied. She opened the purse, and a small laser mounted on a snakelike neck popped out, locking onto Yzma's heat signature and shooting. Yzma forwent going on the offensive with her weapon, instead cartwheeling out of the way of the blast. The fire kept coming, and Yzma found herself trapped in a series of backflips and cartwheels to save her skin.

Medusa flew her craft above Mozenrath, shooting at him from a dashboard-mounted gun. Mozenrath ran, panicking. "What's the matter?" Medusa taunted. "Aren't you going to use your little gauntlet to try and stop me?"

Mozenrath skidded to a halt, deciding to try and hold his ground with a bluff. "Keep going," he dared, raising his right fist, "and you'll find out just how painful my powers – "

Medusa didn't wait for him to finish the sentence before firing again. Mozenrath dove, faceplanting in the sand to avoid the blast.

"You can't use your magic, can you?" Medusa realized; it was the only reason a sorcerer of the repute she'd been told wouldn't be returning fire at her. "HE CAN'T USE HIS MAGIC!"

The words echoed as a fanfare of joy among Maleficent's mercenaries and a death knell to the Huntsman, Xayide, and Yzma.

Medusa turned the skimmer around, ducking low near the Badun brothers. "Why don't we pull off what we called capture plan alpha?" she asked sweetly.

Jasper and Horace boarded either side of the skimmer, standing on the edges with a wobbly balance as Medusa took it back up into the air. They flew behind Xayide; she knew she couldn't take her attention off holding back Clayton and McLeach's fire. Medusa ducked to let the Baduns equip their arrows; they strung a specially constructed net between the bows in such a way that the next bolts of energy would catch it. They drew back and fired.

Mozenrath wasn't fast enough to outrun this one. The net enveloped him, tangling him up completely so he couldn't move.

"Now SHOOT HIM!" Medusa cried.

The Huntsman, in a panic, spun and kicked his boot into Terminus' chest so hard that the so-called doctor was sent sprawling and rolling across the sand. As he turned back to Sykes, he noticed a sparkle of light at the man's chest; Sykes' pendant had escaped from beneath his shirt. While the eight mercenaries weren't versed enough in the magical protection arts to recognize phoenix feather "fabric" such as was draped over Mozenrath's team, the Huntsman knew a phoenix tear when he saw it. He slid the blade of the huntstaff beneath the chain of the pendant, and Sykes froze anxiously. "I know how you're surviving this desert!" the Huntsman yelled at Medusa. "Fire at Mozenrath and I will sever your strongman's pendant!" They were likely all wearing pendants, he realized, and he could have a potential strategy of simply cutting down each one.

"Kill him!" Cruella yelled at Medusa. "I'll get a new one!" Three more lasers erupted from her purse, all of them tracking Yzma, who was beginning to tire of constant acrobatics.

The Baduns drew their bows. Medusa's grip tightened on the dashboard gun of the skimmer. And Mozenrath might have met his end then and there if it weren't for the lion.

The beast was immense, and the same color as the sand around him at all times; as he leapt from a topaz-blue dune to where Medusa hovered over carnation pink, his coat changed from blue to pink as a reflection. He sank teeth into the skimmer, bringing it down hard into the sand; the Baduns nearly lost their balance.

"You dare steal from ME?" he roared. "Grograman, the Many-Colored Death!"

Clayton and McLeach trained their weapons upon the lion. Medusa and the Baduns were stunned. Cruella was startled into inaction. Terminus was still regaining his balance, trying to determine if the Huntsman had cracked a rib. And Sykes was still held at bay by the Huntsman, who realized if there was any window to escape, it was now. The Huntsman tried to sever the pendant chain as he turned and dashed toward the bound-up Mozenrath, but in his haste, all he managed to do was graze it with the blunt end of the staff. Killing Sykes was nowhere as important as saving Mozenrath, anyhow; he scooped up the young sorcerer and threw him over a shoulder. "RUN!" he yelled; as he took off, Yzma and Xayide were quick to follow.

"AFTER THEM!" Cruella yelled. "AFTER THEM, YOU IDIOTS!"

"But what about the – " Jasper interrupted.

"NOT ALL OF YOU!" Cruella roared as she gave chase after the Huntsman, Yzma, and Xayide. "KILL THE LION! THERE ARE MORE THAN ENOUGH OF YOU FOR THIS JOB, AREN'T THERE?"

Jasper and Horace followed her obediently, as did one other.

Grograman lunged at Sykes, who swung his axe. Grograman did not expect the axe to be able to harm him, and was surprised to feel a sting carve through his chest. "You thieves should not even have survived this desert," he growled through the pain as he pinned Sykes down, batting the axe away.

A sudden sharp pain in his shoulder diverted his attention. McLeach had fired a well-placed shot from his crossbow, and was loading up for another, now trained on Grograman's heart. While Grograman turned his head to face McLeach, Sykes took the axe back in hand, now aiming for Grograman's neck.

The skimmer was downed, but its guns were still in working order. Medusa forced them to point at Grograman's face.

As all three weapons loosed, the last thoughts that crossed Grograman's mind were these: first of all, that he had believed himself invincible, and was now awoken from that illusion ever harshly. How could he not have known that of all the stories to be told, one would eventually be woven that would contain the weapons designed for his demise?

Then his memories of the first friend he ever had, and of the one who returned to him in the first's name: the only two people he had ever enjoyed the company of. He would never enjoy the company of another again.

Terminus smacked the side of Grograman's head with his mace, getting in one final blow.

A pained roar crossed the sky of Goab. Grograman's body dissolved into dark gray sand, which was caught up by the wind and dissipated over the desert, marring the rainbow of its earth.

Not a moment later, the entire desert was swallowed up by a forest that erupted from nowhere, trees reaching for the rapidly turning black-colored, star-studded heavens and flowering vines reaching up through the trunks and branches. The mercenaries were engulfed.

And so were the Huntsman, Yzma, Xayide, and the bound Mozenrath.

"This should give us some cover for a while," the Huntsman grunted, looking about; he couldn't see a sign of any pursuer. "All the same, do not slow down."

They couldn't see Clayton stealthily making his way through the upper branches of the trees above, having taken several of the sphinx-hair nets from the Baduns and attaching them to his cannon. He was used to hunting prey from thick forestation, and if humans were the most exhilarating prey, then sorcerers were on another level altogether: a challenge worthy of only the most courageous and talented men, in Clayton's eyes.

BOOM.

The next net bowled over Xayide, pinning her to the ground. She attempted to sever it with magic, only for her magic to rebound upon her, filling her body with intense physical pain.

BOOM.

Yzma was sent head over high heels tangled in another net.

BOOM.

The Huntsman sliced right through the net intended for him. Foolish, he thought, to assume Huntsclan technology could not be ripped through with Huntsclan technology.

Knowing he had to take a more direct approach, Clayton leapt from branch to branch down the tree until he had landed upon the ground. "Surrender now," he cajoled with a greasy smile. "It will be far less painful."

The Huntsman tightened his grip both on Mozenrath and on the huntstaff.

"Certainly, you don't think you can take on all four of us by yourself?" Clayton taunted.

Jasper and Horace emerged from the trees, drawing their bows and aiming at the Huntsman. Cruella stepped into view as well, her purse now spilling forth a spinning circular saw blade.

"Put the staff down, my good man," Clayton went on.

"Forget it!" Cruella hissed. "Just kill him already! Kill all of them!"

"I want him to acknowledge that he has lost to the better man," Clayton seethed, his grin disintegrating.

"I DON'T CARE!" Cruella shrieked. "I JUST WANT THEM ALL DEAD!"

It was their arguing that gave salvation just enough time to descend from above. It plummeted from the sky, breaking into the world's atmosphere from interspace shoes-first, and, like a torpedo, planted right next to Yzma on the soil of Perilin, the Night Forest, managing to avoid being impaled by any branches on the way down. And it came in the form of a redheaded woman who took a battle stance.

"So you WERE having fun without me," Wuya remarked.

Clayton pulled the trigger on the cannon, firing not a net this time but pure destructive energy. Wuya pirouetted before slinging a bolt of magic of her own directly at the plasma cannonball; the force of her spell overpowered the might of the cannon and sent the energy of both ricocheting right back at Clayton. Clayton dove to the ground to avoid it; the deadly energy went sailing over him, radiating heat as it went. As he dove, he had flung the cannon up into the air upon instinct; the energy collided with it and obliterated it in a rain of shrapnel.

The Baduns fired both bows in succession; the Huntsman was able to cut down both arrows easily with his staff. Wuya performed a handspring that brought her close enough to the brothers to grip the limbs of both bows in her hands and crush them in a burst of magic.

"Let's get outta here!" Horace sputtered in horror.

"Right!" Jasper went chasing after him as the two got themselves lost in the brush.

"IDIOOOOOOOTS!" Cruella screamed as she rushed Wuya, holding up the purse, which had sprouted all of its lasers once more. They latched onto Wuya, but as they fired, Wuya danced around each shot, getting close enough to Cruella to reach into the purse, snap off the circular saw blade, and hold it up to the fashionista's throat.

The blade was slung straight back instead once Wuya was aware of Clayton rushing her from behind. The teeth bit right into his shoulder, causing him to halt and wince. Wuya backflipped, her feet – normally bare, but now clad in a pair of sparkling purple high heels – catching Cruella upside the chin before coming down the other side and whacking Clayton back. Clayton wrenched the blade from his shoulder, casting it at Mozenrath; the Huntsman deflected it with the huntstaff and it stabbed harmlessly into the soil. Clayton tried to rush Wuya again, swinging both fists right through the pain, but she expertly ducked each blow, returning her own to him with fists and feet.

She then stepped back, bouncing a ball of white-hot magic in each hand, glancing between Cruella and Clayton with a soft smirk. "If I were you," she said, "I'd run now."

To emphasize the point, the Huntsman pointed his staff outward.

Cruella and Clayton didn't need to be told twice. Finally ready to admit defeat in the name of saving their own skins, they turned tail and bolted.

The Huntsman lay Mozenrath down on the ground, cutting through first his net, then Xayide and Yzma's. "I can see I've missed a lot," Wuya stated as she watched.

"You have no idea," Yzma huffed as she stood. "How did you even find us here?"

"With a locator spell," Wuya answered. "I just had to use something that belonged to one of you. Something I could hitch a ride on across the multiverse." She gestured downward.

Yzma spied the shoes. "Are those MY heels?"

"Is there a problem?"

"No," Yzma admitted. "What just happened with those hunters was worth it. Besides, you make them work almost as well as I do."

"It is fortuitous that you have arrived, Wuya," the Huntsman related. "We are trapped on this world, and there seemed to be no way of escape in sight."

Wuya raised a brow. "Can't Mozenrath just take you back in a Corridor?"

"I would," Mozenrath stated, "if I knew how." He looked to the Huntsman nervously. "She's…one of ours, right?" He hadn't let go of the colorless pebble; his grip tightened around it as his nerves prickled from unfamiliarity.

"WHAT happened?" Wuya asked, aware something was terribly amiss.

"We'll fill you in when we get back to base," Yzma replied. "All you need to know right now is that Mozenrath doesn't remember any magic – or anything worth remembering at all – and Xayide is coming with us."

"Xayide," Wuya repeated, turning to look at the newcomer. "Well, hello."

"It is a pleasure," Xayide said with a curtsy. "I suppose I am speaking either to Mad Madam Mim or Wuya."

"If you think I'm Mim, then obviously, they haven't told you much about Mim," Wuya replied. She wasn't going to argue with bringing Xayide into the fold; she trusted Mozenrath, the Huntsman, and Yzma to know what they were doing…even though Mozenrath was currently suspect for not even recognizing who Wuya was. "Welcome to the fold."

The sound of approaching voices signaled that the group didn't have much time until the next wave of mercenaries came; McLeach was shouting rather loudly about what he was going to do to Mozenrath when he got ahold of him, and Terminus was insisting vehemently to Sykes that yes, he did have a hand in killing Grograman and had in fact dealt the final blow; Sykes was convinced Terminus had only lightly bopped the lion on the head when he was already dead.

"We had best leave," Xayide insisted.

"Way ahead of you." Wuya cast a Corridor, and all five slipped through; the portal melted away before any trace could be found.

...

The Corridor opened into the control room of the warship, where Mim, Aghoul, Roman, and Snatcher sat in a circle, holding out their hands with fingers extended.. While sitting on the floor looked to be a natural position for the former three, Snatcher had an air of awkwardness that stemmed from trying to look altogether too formal. "Hmm…let's see," Mim mused. "Never have I ever…died!"

The three men groaned, lowering a finger each.

"My turn?" Aghoul said next. "Never have I ever worn a skirt."

"You're wearing a skirt right now," Roman groaned.

"This is a thobe!" Aghoul huffed, offended. "Learn the difference!"

Wuya cleared her throat rather loudly, and all four looked up to see her, Mozenrath, the Huntsman, Yzma, and Xayide. "You're back!" Mim chirped.

"You won't BELIEVE what we've been through," Yzma groaned.

'Try me," Roman retorted. "In fact, you'll have to beat what WE'VE been through."

"You've brought home a new ally, I see," Snatcher observed.

"This is Xayide," the Huntsman introduced. "She is a part of our army now."

"Was it absolutely necessary to bring home a redhead?" Snatcher groaned.

"You'll like her," Yzma encouraged. "She's got the same ability as you to talk her way out of anything."

"Oh, so now you're trying to make me redundant?" Snatcher grunted.

"I would argue it better that two silver tongues are better than one," Xayide said calmly.

"I suppose that's true…" Snatcher admitted, well aware that Xayide had just used her powers of persuasion on him, and to a degree, they'd worked.

"You've been oddly quiet, Mozenrath," Aghoul stated.

Mozenrath was still trying to take in the environment into which he'd been thrust and the people he was expected to know. He clutched the colorless pebble tighter as a form of comfort. "Remind me again which one's which…?" he muttered.

"Wait, what?" Roman flinched. "Did he just say – "

The Huntsman cut Roman off with a stern nod.

"I am afraid we have somber news to deliver."


	36. Enchantment and Disenchantment

36\. Enchantment and Disenchantment

The intruder barreled toward Villain's Vale at midnight, his trenchcoat flapping behind him. He knew to approach through the front door was foolish. Instead, he opted to climb the wall, using the blades strapped to his wrists as implements to dig holds. He continued upward until he found an open window, then deftly slipped inside.

He let out a low, quiet giggle as he reveled in his success in breaking in. He then set about the errand he had come for.

The sound of voices drew him down a hallway. "…Never found the sorcerer or his friends," a deep baritone complained, "but we did slay the lion and make off with the sand."

"What 'we'?" a scratchy voice rasped. "I shot the thing in the heart while you were getting your hindquarters handed to you on a platter by some girl!" The sound of a wooden "thump": a fist pounding onto a tabletop.

"Are we about to have a lover's quarrel?" a third voice, much higher and almost musical but definitely also male, interjected.

"It ain't like that," the second voice growled, "and next time you say stuff like that about me, I'm gonna show you the business end of my crossbow!"

"I suppose in the end, we had a success for every loss," the baritone continued. "Jafar and Hades may have been overrun by demons, but at least they brought home those books Maleficent seemed so interested in. Pity we weren't there, Percival. We'd have made quick work of those felines."

"No kiddin'," the harsh-voice man rasped. "And like you said, we killed the lion and got the sand. What that octopus broad is gonna do with it is another thing. How do we know she's not gonna stab us all in the back once she's done with us?"

"We simply have to be sure we're too valuable to stab," the baritone said confidently. "And what about you? You're even newer to the fold than we are. You must have impressed Maleficent a good deal."

"You sound surprised," the high voice lilted.

"You just don't seem like you cut it the way we do," the harsh voice admitted. "All that prancin' around wearin' purple. Sounds more like a Mozenrath thing than one of us. You gotta be tough to make it around here!"

"I suppose I could give you a little demonstration of my skills…" the high voice practically laughed.

It was probably a good thing for Clayton and McLeach that the intruder turned up when he did, coming across the two sitting on either side of a long, thin table, Clayton picking the dirt out from under his fingernails with a knife and McLeach peeling a hard-boiled egg to stuff into his mouth whole. For if the conversation had carried on, the Joker, sitting cross-legged on the table, might very well have maimed one or both of them in his "demonstration." However, as the intruder stepped into view, the attention of all three men was drawn to him instead.

"Why, hello!" the intruder greeted before any of the others could speak. "I am here on quite important business, and I was hoping one of you fine gentlemen could give me some directions."

"Only thing we're gonna show you is the door!" McLeach growled as he stood up hastily, grabbing the crossbow that had lain at the side of his chair and aiming it at the intruder. "Actually, we ain't even gonna let you get that far!"

He let a bolt of energy loose. The intruder ducked beneath it easily, rushing McLeach, slashing out with the blades upon his wrists. McLeach fired again and again, but to no avail; the intruder zigzagged and was soon right next to him, a blade swinging out toward McLeach's throat. McLeach fell over backward; the strike passed far overhead. The intruder, however, took the opportunity to plant a boot in McLeach's chest to hold him down, turning both blades downward upon the poacher, and McLeach could now see that the blades contained small guns.

The intruder became aware of Clayton hoisting up his cannon. As it fired, the intruder backflipped out of the way, performing a whole series of flips and losing his trenchcoat in the process. It was then that his secret appendage, a rather unique tail, was revealed; Clayton and McLeach gaped. The Joker had seen stranger.

"What manner of beast are you?" Clayton gasped.

"Well, that's rather rude, don't you think?" the intruder replied. "Where ARE your manners?" He opened fire with his guns: one pointed at McLeach and the other at Clayton. The two men scrambled to leave the room and get to safety before any bullets could hit home, disappearing down the hall.

"You haven't answered my question!" the intruder said, singsong, before simply letting loose with a laugh that required him to throw his head back, his dark braid swinging over the small marbles that were rolling across the floor.

Just before the marbles exploded, the intruder leapt into the air, sailing toward the Joker, crying out, "THE FLOOOOOOOOR IS LAVA!" He landed on his hands, swinging his legs to avoid an array of thrown knives, then sprang up to his feet, backing the Joker against the wall with his wrist-blades crossed at the Joker's chalk-white throat. The stinger of his scorpion-shaped tail curled up over his shoulder, pressing against the Joker's forehead, just not enough to pierce.

"I'm sorry," the Joker sputtered, "we seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot. What exactly did you say you needed directions to, again?"

"A little lost lamb that wandered away from the flock," the intruder stated, smiling widely.

"Well," the Joker replied, grinning just as widely, "I'm sure they'll be more than happy to tell you." His eyes flicked back over the intruder's shoulder.

The intruder swiveled his head around to see Hades, Cyclonis, the Dark Ace, Ursula, Grimhilde, Cruella, Sykes, Terminus, the Badun brothers, and Harley Quinn lined up behind him, weapons or hands filled with magic all pointed at his back.

"Lay off Puddin'," Harley growled, "or we'll make ya INTO puddin'."

The intruder removed both blades and his tail from the Joker's skin. "Now, now, there's no need for this to end in violence," he said quickly, hoping to avoid biting off more than he could chew. "I just want to know where my little lost lamb has wandered off to. The shepherd is getting dreadfully worried, and sent me to bring her home."

There was a shuffling among the crowd; they parted to let Maleficent through. "Intriguing," she said with a sly smile. "And whom is this 'lost lamb' of which you speak?"

"Why, Cinder Fall, of course," Tyrian stated. "Her fairy godmother was adamant she be home before midnight, and yet it seems she is still at the ball."

Orange flames erupted from floor to ceiling, and two shadowy figures were visible within. As the fire settled, Jafar and Cinder were revealed. "WHAT manner of disturbance is going on here?" Jafar snapped.

The intruder needed only a glance at the pair of them to know all he needed to know. Jafar's crooked headdress. Cinder's hair, which she'd obviously tried to smooth down but remained slightly tousled. The way her red dress hung just a bit to the side, as though it had bee pulled on hastily.

A giggle escaped the intruder's lips, followed by "…And she's found a Prince Charming."

"Tyrian Callows," Cinder said coldly, hatefully. "What are YOU doing here?"

"The better question is this: what are YOU doing here?" Tyrian asked. "Salem has been ever so worried about you. We thought perhaps you had died, and what would have become of our Fall Maiden then?"

"If Salem was so worried," Cinder seethed, "where were all of you when I was frozen atop Beacon?"

"We thought you could handle things yourself," Tyrian replied. "It was, after all, something you ALWAYS assured us you could do. We were simply taking you at your word." He glanced around the room. "Seems to be quite the crowd you've fallen in with."

"Leave," Cinder growled.

"I don't think I will," Tyrian chuckled. "I think I want to see what makes your new friends so special that you won't come home to see your family."

"Maleficent promises power," Cinder told him. "Power is something all of us have in common. Those of us who do not have power are aware of their place. The rest enjoy the spoils of war. We have our losses, but hardly ever are we set back permanently. We are not confined to the relics of Remnant. There is so much more to discover outside of that world, Tyrian, and Maleficent has shown us a glimpse of it. But then again, you're here. Salem must have known about the other worlds before, it seems. And she never saw fit to tell any of us until she needed an errand boy."

Tyrian appeared shocked, though it was difficult to tell if it was genuine or mockery. "Do you mean to tell me you've given up on Remnant? The four relics? The four Maidens? But we were making so much progress, Cinder!"

"And we will make more," Cinder stated. "But you should be well aware it is wiser to bet on more than one horse."

"Hmmm." Tyrian appeared pensive, though, again, it was difficult to tell what of his actions were truly reflective of his feelings and what was simply for show. "Perhaps I'm interested in these…spoils of war you have found on other worlds."

"And perhaps," Maleficent broke in, "I am interested in these relics of which you speak. And four Maidens of power…subjects Cinder has only hinted at. There is much we can learn from each other, Tyrian Callows…if you prove yourself worthy."

"Don't waste your time on him," Cinder growled. "He – "

"SILENCE!" Maleficent barked, and the sound of thunder crashed in the distance. "You DARE speak to me in such a manner? I shall make this judgment for myself."

Cinder bit her lip, silently fuming.

"It would be an honor, Mistress," Tyrian stated, breaking out into an even wider smile, punctuated by a longer, louder laugh.

...

The colorless pebble, the enlarged grain of sand that had once held the end of all Fantastica, had been placed in the twelve-faceted design. With its addition, the spell was half complete, and this pleased the WHAM ARMY. But they knew they still had a long way to go, and in order to continue, they would have to figure out where to find the next element, as well as give Mozenrath a primer in magic so he could at least defend himself.

And in between, life went on.

Mozenrath had really wanted to eat his breakfast in his personal kitchen that morning – at least, what passed for "morning" in a place where time was artificial – but two things steered him toward the communal kitchen. One was a sense of obligation to get to know better these people who seemed to be strangers to him, but whom he had apparently known for a duration of time. The other was that he had run out of bagels in his quarters, and he was in quite the mood for a bagel.

That led him to the communal kitchen, where, as he retrieved a bagel, he found Roman leaning over the table, watching something on his scroll. As the video progressed, Roman broke out into laughter. Mozenrath did his best to actively avoid Roman until the redhead beckoned, "Hey, Righty! You gotta watch this! It's hilarious!"

"O…kay…" Mozenrath relented.

Roman placed the scroll in front of him. Mozenrath could now see the title of the video Roman had been watching: "Cruel World from Floop's Fooglies but every time Floop says Dream it gets faster." The content was a rather eerie song accompanied by a music video that seemed equally at home in a children's television show and a horror film. True to the title, every time the word "dream" was uttered in the song, the entire thing sped up until the singer was as high-pitched as the cry of a mouse.

"What…am I watching?" Mozenrath asked in disbelief.

"It's 'Cruel World' from 'Floop's Fooglies,'" Roman said by way of explanation, "but every time Floop says the word 'dream,' it gets faster."

"I…can see that," Mozenrath replied, unimpressed.

"It's this meme Peter showed me," Roman went on. "Fegan Floop is the main character in this weird kids' show, and people took this song and did all kinds of stuff to it in videos. Here." He took back the scroll and switched videos, placing a new one in front of Mozenrath. "This one's better. Watch."

This one was entitled "Cruel World but every 'dream' is Isle of Dreams, every time Floop asks a question it gets louder, and 'free' is slowed down 500%."

"And the purpose of this is?" Mozenrath asked.

"It's funny!" Roman said with a light laugh. "Come on, Righty! Don't you have a funny bone in that skeleton hand of yours?"

"I don't get it," Mozenrath said dryly. "Would it make more sense if I remembered things from before?"

"No," Roman sighed, swiping back his scroll. "Just forget it." As Neo entered the kitchen, Roman immediately rushed to show her the video, which made her face light up with delight.

Xayide practically floated into the kitchen. "Good morning," she greeted.

"I guess it is," Mozenrath said as he popped his sliced bagel into a crystal-powered toaster.

"You really shouldn't need things like that," Xayide told him. "Here." She flicked a hand and the bagel halves levitated up into the air. They spun around, and flames whooshed around them, toasting them to perfection. They landed back on Mozenrath's plate.

"Thank you for reminding me that I still lack the basic knowledge of magic required to toast a bagel," Mozenrath droned.

"Hey, while you're doing that, can you toast one up for me too?" Roman asked. Neo nodded and pointed to herself to indicate that she wanted a bagel as well.

"Very well," Xayide sighed. "Roman Torchwick and Neo, correct?" Two more bagels soared through the air.

"The two and only," Roman confirmed. "So, Righty. You're getting back on the horse today with the magic?"

"I have to get my powers back," Mozenrath insisted. "I just…" He felt useless. Having to be carried to safety during the battle against Maleficent's mercenaries was bad enough; his helplessness being used as a bargaining chip by the enemy was even worse. And now he couldn't even toast a bagel when apparently, that should have been a simple task. He bit back waves of rage and inadequacy. Maybe, in the part of his life he couldn't remember, he would have told Roman how, exactly, he felt. But he didn't trust Roman. Roman was still new to him, as was Neo. As, for that matter, was Xayide. He finished his thought: "…have to for the sake of practicality."

Xayide lowered the toasted bagels before Roman and Neo, and Mozenrath decided he wanted a condiment on his. "Where do we keep peanut butter in this kitchen?"

"Just stocked up on it," Roman informed him. "Thank Mim and Aghoul for that. That cabinet right there." He gestured.

Mozenrath opened the cabinet only to find Peter curled up inside it, practically upside-down, swirling the dregs of a jar of peanut butter with a celery stick while watching a video on his own scroll. "You're out of peanut butter," he said casually, crunching the celery stick between his teeth and never taking his eyes off the scroll.

Mozenrath shut the cabinet door, turning to Roman with a scowl. "Is he always this infuriating?"

"Now, that's a trick question," Roman replied. "You actually didn't know him before the whole amnesia thing, so, specifically, no. But you generally ARE infuriated with the stuff that goes on around here on a daily basis."

"Good to know," Mozenrath said with a pensive nod.

"Roman," a muffled voice sounded from within the cabinet, "you may want to check your ph – I'm sorry, your scroll."

Roman glanced at the device, opening up a new text that consisted of a link to "Isle of Dreams but a sped-up version of Cruel World plays after every question." As the music started up and Roman began to laugh, Mozenrath figured he'd had enough social interaction for the moment and attempted to slink off with his bagel. He was thwarted when Garfield walked through the door from the opposite direction, crashing into Mozenrath and causing him to drop the bagel on the floor.

Xayide sighed, flicking a new bagel into the air and heating it up.

"Heard 'Cruel World,'" Garfield commented. "Is it meme o'clock already? Also, you got the stuff for waffles in here?"

"Ask Boat Lights," Roman told him. "She's been doing the bagels."

"What did you just call me?" Xayide asked indignantly.

"Boat Lights," Roman reiterated. "You know, because of the…" He wagged his finger back and forth between his eyes.

"Neo appears to have mismatched irises as well," Xayide observed. "Why isn't she 'Boat Lights'?"

"Because Neo is already Neo."

Neo nodded, though she made a quick gesture between her eyes followed by a thumbs-up at Xayide; she approved of having a teammate with heterochromia.

"So are we having waffles, or what?" Roman asked.

"I suppose," Xayide sighed, beginning to search out the ingredients for waffles; it wouldn't take much to fling them together into a baked good. She was starting to think that perhaps there were some things too mundane to rely on magic for, but she felt it would be more diplomatic to indulge her teammates.

There was only a slight rumble of warning before Snipe crashed right through the ceiling and landed on the counter. "HA!" he yelled. "I KNEW I could punch my way out of that stupid forget-me room! Like that room could actually make anyone forget me!" He stood up on the counter, turning to look at Mozenrath. "Hey! You're back!"

Mozenrath stared blankly before asking, "And you are…?"

"Oh, no!" Snipe yelled. "You didn't forget me, did you?"

"I honestly don't know you," Mozenrath replied, still trying to process the fact that a man had just punched his way through the kitchen ceiling.

"NO!" Snipe practically shrieked. "The forget-me room! It WORKED!" He turned to Xayide in a panic. "You remember me, right?"  
"We've never met," Xayide told him, which was true.

"What about you?" Snipe asked Garfield.

"I've never seen you before in my life" was the answer, and it didn't even occur to Snipe that he didn't recognize Xayide or Garfield.

"ROMAN!" Snipe leapt off the counter, grabbing Roman by the shoulders, his fingers digging in uncomfortably. "You remember me, right? It's Snipe!"

By that point, Roman was having too much fun with the entire situation. "Snipe?" he replied, unable to hold back a sly grin. "I don't know a Snipe. Have we met?"

"NOOOOOOOOOO!" Snipe bolted from the room.

"Aaaaaand that's my cue to leave," Mozenrath grumbled as he stormed out through the same door.

"You're evil," Garfield told Roman.

"Newsflash," Roman replied. "We're ALL evil. So, Boat Lights. How about fixing that hole in the ceiling?"

Xayide scowled at the newest request in what seemed like a barrage of them, but she wanted a giant hole in the kitchen ceiling about as much as everyone else did. "So you are one of the new recruits brought back from that city called Gotham," she identified; at her will, the plaster of the ceiling began to reform. "Are you the arsonist or the limber thief?"

"I'm the pyro," Garfield said proudly. "My doll-licious partner in crime is currently emptying out the contents of that cabinet over there."

A muffled "Hello" sounded from the cabinet.

"And you're the witch from Fantastica," Garfield continued.

"None other," Xayide said with a smile; the ceiling was finally patched up. "It seems there are all sorts on this team."

"It's rather too bad that our esteemed leader is currently suffering amnesia," Peter voiced from the cabinet. "I'm sure under normal circumstances, we could truly enjoy the variety that has gathered to work for him."

"Whoa, now," Roman said rather sternly. Then, in a rather quiet tone, "I'm not exactly sure Righty is fit to be leader material right now. He's still getting to know all of us. He doesn't even remember who he is or what he can do. It's nothing against him, but should we really be giving an entire army over to a guy who can't remember who he is and has no magic to speak of?" He sighed, and Neo sighed with him. "I like Righty. I really do. And I hate that it had to come to this. But Archie, Eyeliner, Lavender, Mimsy, Corpsey, and Huntsy and I have been talking over this when Righty isn't around, and we're all kinda in agreement on it." He stared after the door Mozenrath had left via. "I couldn't even tell if today was him being regular stick-up-his-ass or amnesia stick-up-his-ass."

"At least he is training to regain some of his power today," Peter pointed out.

"Yeah, some," Roman huffed. "We're just going to have to answer the million-lien question sooner or later: if Righty doesn't run the WHAM ARMY, who does?"

...

Tucked away in a patch of interspace that was seemingly empty for quite a wide radius around and where you hardly ever ended up unless you knew where you were going, there was a small celestial body, far too small to be called a world, a planet, or even a moon. It was just big enough to hold one moderately sized building and give enough room around said building for potential patrons to park their flying vehicles and take a small walk in the front yard. The building that occupied this floating body was a shop with wooden walls and a bright red roof; a hand-painted sign proclaimed in gold-leaf script that the name of the building was "The Liminal Space."

This was where Dr. Wesley Terminus did most of his work when not in the service of Maleficent.

A door in the back of the shop led out to any of four worlds of Terminus' desire, depending on the settings of a magical dial. He had only just set the dial so that the door could open out into Villain's Vale, offering him easy passage back and forth between his temporary Radiant Garden home and his place of work. Usually, when he returned to the Liminal Space from Villain's Vale, he made sure to twist the dial so that the back door simply led into a storage closet. The day of Tyrian's intrusion, however, he simply forgot, leaving the passage connected.

He had just finished completing a deal with one of his most reliable suppliers, who had brought him a bundle of unique tools. Terminus shook hands with the supplier, then forked over the payment he'd promised. The inventory he'd just been delivered would sell for a much higher price anyhow. He planned to present some of the more deadly options to Cruella and see if he could pique her interest, but not offer anything for free, never offer anything for free. If Maleficent herself asked, he would have been far too petrified of her to say no, but Cruella could be bargained with.

As he watched his supplier's black cape swish out the front door, setting off the little bell that rang anytime a person entered or exited that way, he was suddenly startled by a female voice greeting from behind him, "Hi hi, Doc!"

Terminus whipped around to see Harley standing in the middle of one of the aisles of the shop. "Harley!" he practically yelped, his heart rate racing. "How did you get in here?"

"You left the door unlocked, silly," Harley replied casually. "Is this another part of Maleficent's castle?"

"Er…no," Terminus told her. "Not really. This is elsewhere in space entirely. Which means you are VERY FAR from home and should be getting back – "

"Is this some kinda shop?" Harley asked, missing what was more than a hint. "Looks neat! Whaddaya sell here?"

Hoagy, who had been updating some of the wall displays, slid down off his ladder to approach Harley. "We'd be more than happy to show you around," he said cheerfully.

Terminus cleared his throat loudly. "What we'd be more than happy to do is have you go back through that door and forget where it took you – "

"Doc," Hoagy protested, "is that any way to talk to a potential payin' customer?"

Terminus saw the light.

"Payin' customer?" Harley thought the label over. "Well, I guess if I see somethin' I REALLY like…I got a little money on me, after all!"

"How rude of me!" Terminus completely switched gears. "Let me show you around! This is meant to be a one-stop shop in many regards, see. We began by simply selling Potions and other remedies." Of varying veracity. "But then we realized we could increase our traffic if we diversified. And so we sell Gummi parts…." He led her past an aisle containing exactly such things. "Assorted snack foods for long rides through interspace…" Harley was shown the corresponding aisle. "Accessories of all sorts, boosts your ability to last a battle like no one's business…" Some of them were legitimately as powerful as advertised while others were costume jewelry that Terminus had made up "facts" about. "Of course, we never lost sight of our roots." The aisle containing legitimate Potions as well as false remedies for such things as zombification and spray bottles of "Bee Repellent (Effective on Up To 60,000 Bees!)."

"But the heart of our shop is right here," Terminus explained as he led Harley to a corner of the shop dedicated to weapons of all sorts. Swords hung upon the wall, axes were lined up in a side display, and bows were featured prominently upon a rack. Unlike everything else in the shop, which had a 50% chance of being defective or falsely advertised, the weaponry all appeared well-crafted and polished to shining. "The armory. We have something to fit every need, from traditionalists to those whose tastes run to the more…exotic. What was your weapon of choice, again?"

"Well, I got a couple," Harley explained. "I started out with grenades, and I always keep a bag of 'em around as a backup. But after a sabotage job in a toy store, I picked up a baseball bat, and I've been kinda likin' it."

"A baseball bat, hm?" Terminus repeated. "A formerly uncommon choice that has been gaining in popularity by leaps and bounds! I believe I have just the thing for you!"

Hoagy knew exactly what Terminus was going to go for, and removed the item carefully from the wall display. It was based on the simple principle of wrapping barbed wire around a baseball bat, but the wire was embedded into the bat's metal rather than simply being loosely attached, creating a bat spangled with small spikes. "Give this one a swing," Hoagy encouraged. "Just not too close to the merchandise. Or the salesmen!"

"Huh!" Harley took the bat into her own hands gingerly. She swung it lightly; the weight was perfectly balanced. "Maybe…" Such a weapon would leave its victims far more grievously injured than her previous weapon, which was both blessing and curse, depending on what sort of circumstances Harley found herself needing a weapon in. "I'll think on it. In the meantime, ya got anythin' for Mr. J.? I wanted to get him a little gift! Thank him for everythin' he did to get me back on my feet here with Maleficent after the last Mr. J. kicked the bucket."

"And what sort of weapons does he favor?" Terminus asked.

"Well, he ain't picky, that's for sure."

"I may have just the thing," Terminus told her. "Follow me!"

The new delivery lay on the checkout counter, contained in a bag that seemed about the size of a purse tied with a string. "It's more than meets the eye," Terminus explained, opening the bag. "These are very specialized weapons from a faraway world. They shrink when in storage, and grow when in use." He removed one that appeared in the form of a fingernail clipper with a hilt; it grew to the size of a broadsword. "They are called 'Magiswords,' and each has a different function, be it as a weapon or, well…" He looked to see exactly what he'd drawn out of the bag. "A…fingernail clipper, apparently."

"Lemme try!" Harley fished around in the bag until she withdrew a Magisword in the shape of a great metal burger; it expanded to the appropriate size. As Harley flicked her wrist, a host of small cheeseburgers with tiny propellers to spin and keep them afloat appeared at the end of the Magisword. "Neat!" Harley set the Excaliburger Magisword aside. "Mr. J. does love weapons that look kinda silly. But they gotta be more than just silly underneath."

"Then might I offer you…" Terminus plucked what seemed to be an ordinary black umbrella off the shelf. "This? A blade on one end!" He extended a long sword blade from the shaft. "A gun on the other! Though we won't demonstrate that indoors. And finally – "

"It works as a propeller!" Hoagy concluded, grabbing the umbrella from Terminus and holding it aloft. He unfurled the umbrella into the open position, then pressed a small button that started the ribs spinning. Hoagy was lifted gently into the air by keeping a grip on the weapon.

"Now, now, now, get back down here!" Terminus practically tackled his partner, swiping the umbrella from his hands and closing it. "Don't you know it's bad luck to open umbrellas indoors?"

"Hmmm…" Harley thought it over. "I already know a guy from Gotham who has somethin' like that, and Mr. J. ain't no copycat. But maybe the butler could use it. It seems kinda like his style, and we can't have all the fun without him! What was his name again? Edward? Edmund?"  
"Edwin," Terminus corrected.

"EdGAR," Hoagy amended.

"Edgar!" Harley snapped her fingers. "That's it! Maybe I'll stop back and get this for him. But it ain't Mr. J."

Hoagy was struck with inspiration. "Maybe we can actually finally get rid of that crowbar no one wa – "

"Everyone is practically tripping over themselves to get one of these!" Terminus interrupted, taking a crowbar off the wall. "It has a triple purpose! First, as you can see, it is perfectly capable of acting as an ordinary crowbar. Second, it carries a concealed blade." With a flick, he produced a sharp edge that extended from the bar, the bar itself now functioning as a hilt for a sword. "But from the OTHER end…" He tucked the blade back into place, flicking out another apparatus and extending a handle. The crowbar was now a pogo stick. This was the feature most customers had deemed too ridiculous and used as evidence as to why it was not worth their time.

Harley, however, broke out in a great smile. "He's gonna LOVE it!"

The transaction was quick; Harley decided upon the spiked bat as well, just in case. "This is gonna be just what Mr. J. wants," Harley stated, though almost mournfully, and when Terminus handed her the crowbar, wrapped in tissue paper and packaged in a paper shopping bag, she gave it a rather sad glance. "I hope, anyway."

Terminus could sense something was wrong, and he resolved to not ask about it. It wasn't any of his business, and he didn't need anyone else's tragedy ruining his day. His resolve was easily broken by just another quick look at Harley. "Something…amiss?"

"It's just…since we got here, Mr. J.'s been talkin' to the guys and tryin' to get in with the upper-class crowd," Harley sighed. "He ain't had much time for me. And when I tried to save him from that scorpion guy along with everyone else – "

"You mean Tiarnán Celestus?"  
"Tyrian Callows," Hoagy corrected.

"Whatever," Terminus replied.

"Well," Harley continued, "Mr. J. kinda…yelled at me after, about how he had it under control and he didn't need me to save him. I just thought…y'know, we're a team. So I thought maybe gettin' him a new weapon would cheer him up. Be my way of sayin' I'm sorry for gettin' involved when I shouldn't have."

"Seems to me that ain't no way to talk to a partner," Hoagy observed. "Look at me and the Doc. Sure, he sends me in as live bait for dragons sometimes, but we still look out for each other. Right?"

"Of course," Terminus confirmed. "After all, if you're dead, who am I supposed to do business with? Nobody else is qualified. And I'm certainly not going to be angry at you for making sure I don't die. Who would YOU do business with then?"

"I don't even wanna think about it," Hoagy replied.

"I know it don't sound right," Harley sighed, "but that's the way it is. He's the one who found me after the people I thought was my friends killed the last Mr. J. And he's the one who built me back up. He helped me get revenge, he showed me other worlds…I think he really cares about me. Even more than the guy before him. We just gotta get on the right foot, is all." She drew a deep breath, which came out as a heavy sigh. "But he said he wanted me to leave him alone for a while, so I can't give him the crowbar just yet. That's one thing that never changes with Puddin's. They always need a lot of time to figure stuff out without me. And I get it. Everyone needs their alone time. I can't smother him, y'know?"  
Both Terminus and Hoagy could tell that there was something sinister lurking beneath the surface of Joker and Harley's relationship. From what little they knew of the Joker, it was hard to imagine him caring for a partner. Perhaps they were mistaken, but all the same, it was difficult for them not to feel a soft spot for Harley.

"I guess I better get back to the castle and figure out where I can make myself useful until I'm needed again," Harley sighed.

Terminus could have kicked himself for being so easily won over by her pout. "All right, all right. You can stay here as long as you want to. Just stay out of our way."

"You can have a coffee if you want," Hoagy offered. "Or a hot chocolate."

"For five munny," Terminus hastily added.

"I couldn't just hang around without pitchin' in," Harley protested. "How 'bout I help you put some of those Magiswords on display?"

"Do that," Terminus told her, "and the coffee and hot chocolate are free."

Harley grinned. "Then let's get to work!"

...

The balconies of the WHAM ARMY warship were protected by a shield that formed a bubble of breathable air around them; one could stand on such a balcony and get a good look out at the swirling colors of interspace. Mozenrath took a moment to do just that, with Wuya beside him.

"Had enough yet?" she asked teasingly.

It was stunning, Mozenrath thought. Here he was, in a place between worlds, looking out at a wider existence than he had known possible since the City of Old Emperors. It was an inviting challenge, for him to reach out and grasp it all. But, as with Roman, he felt wary of Wuya. He was allowing her to teach him magic simply because no one else seemed as qualified, but he wasn't sure he could trust her. Her being directly responsible for saving him from Maleficent's mercenaries was the only evidence he had that she wouldn't turn on him and murder him during this training session.

"Show me what I apparently forgot," he demanded.

"First," she told him, "breathe slowly and listen to me. Count your inhaling on three and your exhaling on four. I want you to be as blank of an emotional slate as possible before we begin."

"All right, if you insist…" Mozenrath sighed, rolling his eyes before taking a long, slow breath to the count of three.

"Magic can be very complex," Wuya explained. "If you want to get into the specifics, there are countless potions, sigils, and implements to study. The way I heard it, you had control of one of the most complex magical powers of all: the ability to raise the dead. And somehow, you did it all inside your mind. That's practically impossible. You had a very organized mind before Fantastica.

"Now, in order to get down to basics, we don't have to deal with all that. That gauntlet allows you to channel energy from within yourself to the outside and makes it into magic. And at the heart of that is, well, the heart."

"This better not be heading for some cliché," Mozenrath groaned.

"You can take the clichés or you can walk away without even knowing how to block an enemy projectile," Wuya snapped. "Good luck against Maleficent."

"I get the picture. Cliché away."

"To summon the energy within you, isolate an emotion," Wuya instructed. "It can be any emotion. Anger works better for destructive spells, but joy can cause its fair share of fireworks. If it helps, think back on a memor – " She stopped herself.

"I don't have any memories – "

"I realize that," Wuya sighed. "Just…think of something that makes you angry in general."

Mozenrath nodded. He could think of just the thing. "Got it."

"Then consciously bring that emotion forward." Wuya flicked her hand, and a clay statue appeared at the end of the balcony: the form of a teenaged boy with slightly spiky hair, clad in a hoodie. "Hold it in your hands." She extended both hands, palms up, and a ball of energy crackled to life between them. "Then, it's a matter of conscious control." She took the ball into her hands and shoved it forward; it shattered the clay image of Raimundo Pedrosa into a million shards. She turned to Mozenrath. "Any particular target you want to take out your anger on?"

"Fegan Floop," Mozenrath growled.

"…Are you serious?"  
"You know what I'm talking about, right?"  
"Peter tried to show me some silly song involving him," Wuya answered. "I've been trying to put it out of mind."

"Well, I haven't been able to get that stupid song out of my head for the past hour, and the worst part is the first version I listened to SPED UP, and THAT is what has been playing over and over AND OVER INSIDE MY MIND – "

Wuya gasped. Mozenrath raised his right hand in awe. A blue aura was surrounding it.

Quickly, Wuya summoned a clay statue of Fegan Floop. Mozenrath mustered up all the annoyance he could think of at Peter, Roman, and their repetitive meme, and let a great sphere of blue fly.

Floop shattered.

A pair of hands clapping alerted Wuya and Mozenrath to their audience. Both spun sharply to see Irmaplotz and Xayide watching them. "Don't you have anything better to do?" they snapped as one.

"We were curious," Xayide explained. "I found it so difficult to put my method of casting spells into words that I was hoping you might offer insight to how exactly it is done."

"I just wanted to see if you were going to bring up anything about the method that my mom never did," Irmaplotz added.

"Flattering as this is," Wuya told the pair, "we are going to need privacy and quiet. This lesson requires concentration! So buzz off!"

Instead of Xayide and Irmaplotz leaving, a third person arrived. "Hello, then!" Snatcher greeted cheerfully, holding out a tray laden with teacups and one steaming teapot. "Just wanted to check how things were going. Back at full operating capacity yet?"

Wuya scowled at him. "What do YOU think?"

"Is that any way to speak to someone who's brought you tea?" Snatcher replied, a smile the others found somewhat inexplicable beaming across his face.

Wuya jerked the tea tray away. "THANK you. Now leave us ALONE."

"As your majesty pleases," Snatcher said with a dismissive shrug. As he turned to leave, Irmaplotz followed.

Xayide turned to walk after them, but Wuya stopped her with "Xayide. A word."

"Yes?" Xayide responded.

"Be careful around here," Wuya warned. "Once they learn you have magic, they'll ask you to do EVERYTHING for them. Draw your boundaries."

"I shall cross that bridge when I come to it," Xayide replied before turning to exit.

"Now." Wuya let the tea tray levitate in the air while she turned back to Mozenrath. "Lesson two."

"You've already shown me how to destroy," Mozenrath told her. "How do you CREATE? Like those statues you made for us to be able to make believe we were finally getting rid of the banes of our existence."

"You think Fegan Floop is the worst thing in your life," Wuya commented. "That's adorable."

"I WOULD be more scared of Maleficent if I knew who she was," Mozenrath replied. "And…I've been hearing something about a kid with a giant key? Is this something I need to worry about?"

"Later," Wuya said with a shake of the head. "To answer your question, creation relies almost entirely on being able to harness positive energy. Happiness. Tranquility. Think of something that makes you happy, and it will come to you."

"I…" Mozenrath looked worriedly out at the edge of the balcony, where the other two statues had stood. "Okay." He rifled through his memories. He knew fear and insecurity, the sort that came with unfamiliarity. He knew anger and frustration, the sort that came with being helpless despite apparently normally being competent in most situations. He knew disgust, distrust, and annoyance. But ever since the City of Old Emperors, nothing had made him truly happy. He had a sense of what the emotion should feel like, but no reference point for how to achieve it.

As he stalled, Wuya realized exactly what was occurring, and she bit her lip. There was nothing she could offer Mozenrath to assist him. Besides, if she tried, she would likely leave a mark on his large but brittle ego.

"What was lesson two?" he growled at long last.

"Mastering control over destructive energy," Wuya replied. "It can come in more shapes than just bolts. Though we may want to skip ahead to lesson three, which is deflection shields." Shields, she knew, could be created out of pure fear, and that was surely something Mozenrath had in spades, whether or not he wanted to admit it.

Just down the stairway leading to a lower floor, Irmaplotz observed of Snatcher, "You seem cheerful lately. I would have thought with everything that happened, you'd be a writhing mass of pure, unadulterated anger right now."

"Oh, things aren't optimistic in the slightest," Snatcher assured her. "True, we may have acquired one of the necessary pieces for our overall plan, but as it stands, our former leader is in a mental limbo, that leaves us in a state of anarchy, we weren't able to hold our own against Maleficent in Gotham, her side has collected an assortment of extremely powerful players we can only hope to be able to stand against, and I can't seem to get that repetitive song Torchwick has been listening to out of my mind. And so, to avoid becoming completely nonfunctional in our desperate hour, I have found my own way of maintaining sanity."

"Does it have anything to do with your shoes?" Xayide asked; the clicking said shoes were making on the floor hadn't escaped her. Snatcher was in fact sporting a pair of three-inch heels.

"As a matter of fact, it does," Snatcher answered, smiling more broadly. "I find it rather difficult to be in a state of complete distress while wearing such fashionable articles."

As they reached the bottom of the stairway, Yzma darted across their path. "WHERE IS HE?" she seethed.

"Where's who?" Irmaplotz asked.

"That infuriating, impossible, aggravating, vexatious little – "

A Visayan warty pig, stormy gray with eyes of asymmetrical size, went charging down a perpendicular hall. Yzma leapt to tackle him, but he was faster, leaving Yzma to crash onto the floor. "XERXES!" she screamed. "He's gotten into my potions AGAIN!" She peeled herself off the floor. "He has NO concept of changing size or of losing the ability to fly, and if he isn't caught soon, he'll either break everything in the ship or kill himself by leaping off a balcony! There MUST be a way to be able to rein him in whenever – " She cut herself off, startled by her own inspiration. "Actually, I'm beginning to get an idea…" She took off running down the hall after Xerxes, muttering to herself.

"Her heels were even higher," Irmaplotz pointed out, "and she's FURIOUS."

Snatcher shrugged. "Obviously, she's wearing them wrong."

While neither Irmaplotz nor Xayide could find any evidence to agree, neither could they find any evidence to argue.

Snatcher's shoes chose that moment to absolutely fail him; he took a step and his right heel completely snapped off, sending him crashing to the ground. Xayide and Irmaplotz both had to bite their lips hard to keep from laughing; Xayide may not have known Snatcher long, but she had gleaned immediately that he was the sort of person who might very well try to strangle you if you laughed at him.

With his good mood beginning to dissipate as of the introduction of frustrating humiliation, Snatcher pulled himself around into a sitting position, scooping up the broken shoe. "Miss Xayide," he grunted, "if you would…"

Xayide was beginning to see what Wuya had meant. It should have been clear since breakfast, come to think of it. With a sigh, she flicked enough magic at the shoe to reattach the heel.

...

Some time later, after Yzma had rounded up Xerxes, put him back to his original form, and stuffed him in an ornate gold birdcage in her laboratory, she walked out to the edge of one of the ship's balconies, looking out at the eternity of colors before her. In one hand, she gripped a small loop of leather and rhinestones. She tossed it up into the air to catch it on the fall once before hurling it off the edge of the balcony. It phased through the protective bubble that marked the end of breathable air and spun out into infinity, falling so far it would likely never be seen again.

"Test alpha," Yzma muttered to herself before turning and bolting back into the ship.

As she rounded the corner to the laboratory entrance, she found Xayide heading the same way. "Xayide!" she greeted. "Care to accompany me for a very important test?"

"Are you going to ask me to do something incredibly mundane for you with my magic?" Xayide asked derisively.

"I may ask you to pitch in with something complicated that involves magic," Yzma replied.

Xayide's stare made Yzma reconsider her stance. "Or…I could…rely on my own skill while you kick back and relax. Either way."

"I just need to get away from everyone else until they run out of favors to ask me for," Xayide sighed.

"Then come with me," Yzma encouraged. "Just pull the lever! Ahem…" She tapped the correct lever. "THIS lever, to be precise."

At the end of the rollercoaster ride, Xayide found herself at a loss for words. She mouthed a few syllables before finding her voice: "What…was the purpose of that?"

"It's just for fun," Yzma remarked.

"Fun," Xayide repeated as she followed Yzma deeper into the laboratory.

She was surprised to see a thick wall of ice cordoning off half of the available space. "Is this also for fun?" she asked.

"It is because MIM is roaming about the other half of the laboratory," Vexen's muffled voice sounded from behind the ice, "and I dare not let her anywhere NEAR my work."

Mim peered out from behind the table set up with Yzma's equipment. "I didn't touch anything," she said sweetly.

"Because I didn't let you," Vexen grumbled.

"Stop being such an iceberg and chill out," Aghoul encouraged, stepping into view. Spotting his opportunity for a three-pun combo, he went on: "I swear, most of the time, it seems he has an icicle lodged halfway up his – "

"I should KILL you," Vexen grumbled. "Really, I should."

"Well?" Aghoul asked Yzma. "Is it good and lost?"

"If test alpha fails, we'll never see it again," Yzma said dryly. "The recall stone, if you please."

Mim lobbed a sparkling crystal across the room at Yzma; she fumbled it briefly before catching it with a "HA!" Yzma then raised the crystal into the air and yelled, "RETURN!"

The loop of sparkle-studded leather materialized in the midst of the lab, dropping onto the table. "IT WORKED!" Yzma crowed as Aghoul and Mim burst into applause. "Now bring out the test subject!"

Aghoul produced the golden cage holding Xerxes. "This is for your own good," Yzma muttered as she popped open the door and slipped the leather collar onto the eel.

Xerxes shook his head. "Too sparkly."

"But this ensures that no matter where you go, even if it's halfway across the multiverse, we'll be able to call you right back here to where you can't make trouble," Yzma stated as she tapped the recall crystal. "If Mozenrath remembered who you were, he would be VERY pleased with us right now."

Xerxes hung his head. "Mozenrath forget Xerxes for real this time," he moaned. "Xerxes miss Mozenrath."

"We are all concerned," Yzma assured the eel. "Now keep that collar on and try and stay out of trouble."

Xerxes flew off slowly and sadly.

"Are you sure there's no spell we can put together to give Mozenrath back his missing memories?" Aghoul asked. "We're capable sorcerers! Surely we can think of something!"

"Take it from someone who has encountered a case of magic-induced memory loss," Vexen said from within the ice wall. "It is nigh impossible. What I witnessed was a calculated effort by a witch with specific power over memory. What she removed, she was able to store and replace as data. When Mozenrath's memories were removed, they were not stored. They were erased. Permanently. It would take nothing short of a miracle to restore them."

"This team seems inclined to believe in miracles," Xayide pointed out.

"Just be glad HE wasn't with you when you were crossing the swamp," Yzma muttered. "He would have talked you into sinking." She raised her voice. "At least we have made progress on the OTHER project. Largely because SOMEBODY finally decided she wanted to be helpful."

"If you didn't have the locator put together," Mim reminded Yzma, "you were likely to just keep using my amulet." She ran a finger over the purple gem, which hung suspended from her own neck once more. "And I'm not in the mood to let you have it again! You almost LOST it! Then I'd have to track down a whole new archnemesis to imprison in another piece of jewelry!"

"Well?" Aghoul suggested. "Let's see if it works!"

"It just needs one finishing touch…" Yzma approached a device that lay slightly disassembled on the table. She used a pair of tweezers to implant an arrangement of tiny crystals inside, then clamped the cover shut and turned it over to reveal it as a compass. "There! Our locator compass is ready for the next test!"

"What is the purpose of this?" Xayide asked.

"What we were trying to accomplish when we accidentally enchanted the Amulet of Avalor," Yzma stated. "A compass that could point us in the direction of whatever we wished and show us where what we wanted is hidden. The Amulet led us to a concentrated element of Entropy. But what we need now…" She raised the compass dramatically. "Is a concentrated element of TIME!"

Yzma then lowered the compass, and she, Mim, Aghoul, and Xayide could all see that it was spinning. At last, it ground to a halt, pointing at the far wall. "It's THAT way!" Yzma crowed, pointing at the wall.

"There are countless worlds in that direction," Xayide reminded her. "You told me so yourself. How do we know which one we are looking for?"

Yzma opened her mouth to answer…and realized she had no answer.

"Not to mention it operates on a two-dimensional plane," Xayide went on. "What if the world that holds the element is above or below us?"

"STOP POKING HOLES IN MY LOGIC!" Yzma screeched. "Do you know how difficult it was to put this together? Are you suggesting I start all over?"

"Not start over." A segment of the ice wall melted away, and Vexen stepped through to the outside, bringing with him a larger device. "Add to it. I had a feeling you would overlook such crucial details. That is why I went to work immediately on crafting the other half of what you need."

The object he carried appeared to be a glass globe set upon a pedestal with a slot carved in it exactly the right size and shape of the compass. He lowered the globe onto the table, holding out a hand. "If you don't mind."

Yzma gritted her teeth as she handed over the compass. Vexen inserted it into the lower half of the globe, then stepped back, suggesting the others "Watch."

The globe filled with black, then with stars: a celestial map. One star was twinkling much more brightly than the others: a bright blue color. Vexen placed a finger on the side of the globe, and the area around the star enlarged. "Not only will this pinpoint the world the compass points to," he explained, "but it shows where in interspace the world lies. From there, the compass can be removed, and once the search party is on the ground of the indicated world, it will function as a decent locator with little worry about the three-dimensional plane." He turned his attention back to the globe. "Fascinating. I don't believe I have been to this world before. I MUST take notes to give you the proper coordinates." He stepped back into his circle of isolation to rustle up a pad of paper and a writing utensil.

"And all this time, I thought you hated us," Yzma commented, suddenly realizing how unprecedented it was for Vexen to contribute to one of her creations.

"You are going down a path I don't particularly appreciate," Vexen snapped back. He returned, beginning to take down measurements to pinpoint the exact location of the World of Twelve.

...

Grimhilde, alone with her mirror, decided it was finally time to ask it the question she had been longing to ask.

She summoned the spirit as usual, and it asked her what she wanted. To which she replied: "Magic mirror, on the wall. Once I asked you the name of the fairest of all. 'Twas only one world on which you could seek, and thus you found the fairest unique. But now you see 'cross many worlds, a landscape new that has unfurled. Who in all these worlds can the fairest be, and how many exist whom are fairer than me?"

The mirror didn't miss a beat. "The answer, my Queen, I most certainly fear is not the one which you wish to hear. As the eyes open wider, the more I see, and it becomes increasingly clear to me that when the multiverse is put to the test, there is not but one fairest. Beings of all colors, short and tall, share the title 'Fairest of All.' Look hard as you can into my glass to see those who remain fair steadfast." A million images flashed in quick succession, more than Grimhilde's eyes could even process. "And all of the faces reflected in me have proven themselves far fairer than thee."

Red-hot anger boiled up through Grimhilde as she watched the images of innumerable "fairest of all" cross the glass. She wished to be rid of all of them, or to ascend above them. But how would it be possible with so many that needed to be eliminated to pave her way? The anger took shape, and she spun quickly so that the lightning that exuded from her spilled into the hall rather than destroying anything in her chamber. It very nearly hit another living being, however, as she was informed by the cry of "WHOA!" that sounded from the hallway.

Hades, having nearly been struck by Grimhilde's tantrum, peered into the room. "What's got your cape in a knot, Queenie?" he asked. "That was some anger management issues right there."

"I knew I would not be the fairest of all," Grimhilde growled, "but those that stand in my way to become such are innumerable! I must learn a way to either destroy them all or rise above them."

"Y'know, weird thing," Hades responded. "I'm not usually the one to go to for beauty tips, but when Jaffie and I were lookin' through the Black Sands libraries, we found a book that just might be of interest for you." He spread out his hands, and a leather-bound tome appeared in midair. "Cosmetic spells. Oy. Guess we know why Mozzy's such a pretty-boy now. You're gonna want the last page, babe."

Grimhilde seized the book, gripping it tightly as she flipped through its pages. The last page contained a spell entitled "To Become the Fairest of All Worlds."

A slow smile spread across Grimhilde's face. "This is exactly what I seek."

"Knock yourself out, babe," Hades told her. "Meantime, I gotta make like a tree. Malef's got me on chaperone duty for Scorpion Boy soon as she thinks up a good mission for him. That's gonna be more fun than a dory in the eye at least." With that, he vanished, the air around smelling slightly of smoke.

Grimhilde read aloud the passage she had found, hardly taking note of Hades' parting words. "If it is in the mind of thee to the ultimate fairest be, 'cross every plane and every star, to kingdoms near and dimensions far, then thou must craft this darkest art: remove two genders of fairest's hearts…"

Her reading distracted her when the smell of smoke intensified, and another column of flame delivered yet another guest to her chambers. She was snapped out of her reverie by Maleficent's declaration of "Grimhilde."

"Yes, Mistress," Grimhilde said stoically, setting the book on a nearby table.

"I require the use of your scrying power," Maleficent stated. "I believe I have devised the perfect test for our Tyrian. Perhaps we can fell two beasts with one blow."

"What is it you wish to see?" Grimhilde asked.

She should have known what Maleficent was going to ask for: "Find what Mozenrath seeks next."


	37. A Guide to the World of Twelve

A/N: I'm intercepting Wakfu canon after the "Quest for the Eliatrope Dofus" OVAs, assuming season 3 happens after them. Also, there may be kind of a mishmash of English vs. French terminology – the English subtitles based on the dub are most of what I have to go on, but I refuse to call Tristepin "Percedal." I outright refuse.

...

37\. A Guide to the World of Twelve

Seven figures gathered in a dark basement room, standing in a circle. Six of them wore flowing cloaks of black with hoods pulled up; in the shadows of the room, lit only by stray candles, this was enough to shroud their faces.

But the Huntsman had ruined the entire aesthetic by refusing to wear the cloak.

"I don't see why you requested we wear such ridiculous clothing," he grunted, holding up the piece of paper that had served as his invitation: "We meet in the basement in secret tonight to determine the next step. WEAR A BLACK HOODED CLOAK!"

"Because," Yzma replied, "it emphasizes the secrecy of our meeting. It's for ambience. You can't have a gathering such as this without the right ambience."

"It does give it a more cryptic feel," Wuya added.

"Is there a point to obscuring our faces?" the Huntsman went on. "We all know each other's identity."

"Yeah, and we also all know you're a killjoy," Roman huffed. His "cloak" consisted of a black bedsheet that had been given some convenient stitches. Snatcher's was exactly the same.

"Your face is always hidden by all that headgear anyway," Aghoul pointed out.

"Hence a cloak is redundant," the Huntsman insisted. "I propose we cut to the quick. Why are we here?"

"Well, since Mozenrath is…er…memory-challenged at the moment," Yzma stated, "one might question whether he is fit to command. …The answer is no. No, he's not. One of us is going to have to step up and do it in his place."

"I hate to agree," the Huntsman sighed, "but I must."

"All right, don't all nominate me at once!" Mim volunteered.

"Literally no one was going to nominate YOU," Yzma huffed.

"And why not?" Mim put her hands on her hips defiantly. "Our goal is evil and chaos, and I'm the most chaotic evil one here!"

"We need a degree of order so that we may function," the Huntsman informed her. "Your methods of command would be directionless and self-destructive. We need to focus on our larger goal and strategize a route to it. I feel as though in Mozenrath's stead, I am the one best suited to that path."

"Remember what I said about you being a killjoy?" Roman sighed. "I agree that Mim is the LAST person who should be our leader – "

"Hmph!" Mim folded her arms. "You just don't know a good leader when you see one! You think I'd be a great leader, don't you, Ghoulie?"

"Well, I, uh…" Aghoul found himself trapped. "Not to change the subject, but did you see the weather today?"

"There IS no weather," Yzma reminded him. "We're floating in the middle of interspace!"

"As I was saying," Roman picked up, "Huntsy is probably the SECOND to last person who should be our leader. He's all work and no play. We'll finish the spell, all right, if we don't all get bored to death on the way."

"And who would you nominate?" the Huntsman asked, already knowing the answer.

"Well, I WAS in charge of the mission to Gotham," Roman reminded the group, "and we all saw how THAT turned out."

"Yes," Snatcher, Mim, and Aghoul said dryly and pointedly. "We did."

"Oh, come on!" Roman groaned. "It wasn't THAT much of a train wreck!"

"Torchwick," Snatcher sighed, "I admire you greatly. Truly, I do. But the position of command requires finesse and diplomacy. And while you do indeed have intellect and drive, make no mistake, I believe that I put both of those qualities in better context in a leadership role."

"So you'll be leading us into the next battle, then," Aghoul prodded. "I'm sure your YEARS of combat experience and ultimate skill with weaponry will come in handy."

"There's no need to be sarcastic," Snatcher muttered.

"How about instead of putting our faith in someone who barely knows how to fight," Aghoul suggested, "we put someone a little more durable at the frontlines? Someone like…why, how about little old me?"

"How about we put someone in charge who doesn't drop everything to chase the tail of the nearest pretty woman?" Wuya snorted. "If I could manage the other warriors of the Heylin, I can manage the rest of you."

"Didn't you backstab most of the Heylin warriors?" Aghoul pointed out.

"Didn't YOU lose most of your victories on your homeworld because you were bested in intellect?" Snatcher retorted.

"Maintaining control over idiots is no precedent for maintaining control over an intelligent and functional army," the Huntsman stated coldly. "That goes for both Wuya and Mr. Snatcher. Need I remind you I was in command over the entire Huntsclan: a band of highly trained warriors schooled in the ways of the supernatural?"

"Oh, yeah!" Roman retorted. "Now I remember! You did a GREAT job! Especially with Rose! She really respected you, there! Now, Neo and me, on the other hand – "

"Oh, like we don't all know how it really works," Mim huffed. "Neo only lets you give her orders because she finds you amusing. She's the one who's ACTUALLY in charge of the partnership."

"NOT true," Roman snapped.

"So if she told you she was the boss starting tomorrow, you'd be able to put her in her place?"

"Well…" Roman coughed. "'Put her in her place' is a bit of a strong term, isn't it? I'm only saying that because it's still a partnership. One where I just happen to make most of the decisions. I am NOT scared of Neo. Nooooooo waaaaaay."

"Tell yourself that all you want, fraidy-cat!" Mim scoffed. "I'm taking charge myself, starting now!"

"All right, then," Wuya taunted. "Tell us our next move, o great leader."

"We transport to the World of Twelve," Mim stated, "and we destroy everything in our way."

"And then what?"

"Well…we…"

"Do you even remember what we're looking for on that world?" Wuya raised a brow. "You WERE there when we put together the compass."

"It's an Element," Mim stated. "Of…something. It's really the destroying part that matters, anyway."

"No, it isn't," Snatcher and the Huntsman grunted.

"I'm just saying this team has to be run by somebody with knowhow AND swagger!" Roman insisted.

"Which is exactly why I should do it!" Wuya emphasized.

"You're a smart-aleck with delusions of grandeur!" Snatcher snapped.

"Your FACE is delusions of grandeur!" Mim contributed.

This got Mim, Aghoul, Roman, Snatcher, Wuya, and the Huntsman in a six-way shouting match until Yzma waved her hands in the air, yelling, "SILENCE! SILENCE, ALL OF YOU!" Once she'd gotten everyone's attention, she stated authoritatively, "We are getting NOWHERE with this senseless fighting! Clearly, there is only one way to solve this dilemma!"

"You're going to nominate yourself, aren't you?" Aghoul said.

"No, no, no," Yzma replied, waving her hand, not actually having paid attention to what Aghoul had said. "I was merely going to say that as a former advisor to an emperor and therefore the de facto ruler of an entire empire, I should be the one to take charge! I'm nominating myself!"

Even beneath the hoods, Yzma could make out the derisive glares of the other six.

"All right," she sighed. "Here's the deal. The party for the next mission should just be the seven of us and Mozenrath. He needs to learn to trust all of us. We're his inner circle! We're his best friends! And while we're there, in this 'World of Twelve,' we can each have a go at being in charge. At the end of the day, we'll pick whoever did the best job to lead the team. Does that sound fair?"

"A viable solution," Snatcher commented.

"I see no problem with this," Roman said with a pensive nod.

"What could go wrong?" Mim said with a shrug.

"It is the most productive plan suggested thus far," the Huntsman admitted.

"It's brilliant!" Wuya complimented.

"It really ought to settle things!" Aghoul said as he nodded fervently.

Of course it was a good plan, Yzma thought to herself. They were all going to go along with it because each of them thought they would come out on top at the end of it, and Yzma knew this.

Though she herself was sure it would be her who would take home the coveted title of team leader when all was said and done.

...

"All right, Scorpion Boy," Hades said as he stared Tyrian down. "Listen up, 'cause I am NOT, repeat, NOT gonna keep telling you this."

Tyrian replied by cracking a smile and giggling softly. Hades already hated him. They stood as close to each other as they could abide in the chamber Tyrian had been temporarily given to stay the night: a cell in the dungeon. In Villain's Vale, you had to earn your right to comfort.

"We're trying to take over the cosmos," Hades went on. "We have eggs in a bunch of baskets. There's a book we're after that could let us change the future, there's this whole Keyblade thing, and now there's whatever you've got going on with the seasons and the relics. But every time we get close to something good, someone gets in our way. Two someones, actually. You've got the spiky-haired kid on the permanent sugar high who seems like he should be dumb enough to take out in one blow, but makes up for it in his sheer unwillingness to just die. And then, on the other hand, you've got Mozzy. Annoying little wannabe sorcerer who tried to play with the big boys, got thrown into time-out, and is now claiming his own friends are better than we are anyway. You'd think he'd be easy enough to take out, especially since he, unlike the spiky-haired rainbows and sunshine brat, is actually literally killing himself by using his magic. But for some reason, no matter how hard we try to get rid of him, he keeps turning up wherever we go like a bad denarius. So, naturally, instead of waiting for him to burn himself out, we wanna speed up the process and get rid of him NOW before he becomes an actual PROBLEM. Thanks to Queenie, we know where he's going next and what he thinks he can pick up there. Some kinda green box. I dunno, doesn't look that important to me. The point is, we want you to prove your salt by offing Mozzy for good. Sending him to MY realm, where he'll have to deal with ME. You with me so far?"  
"Kill the upstart sorcerer," Tyrian reiterated. "It sounds simple enough…then again, if it were, one of you would have already been able to do it."

Hades snorted, literal puffs of smoke exuding from his nostrils. "Is that really the note you wanna start on? Because I don't think that's the note you wanna start on."

"My apologies," Tyrian said with a grin that implied he didn't quite mean it. "Do go on."

"Anyway, we figured out where Gauntlet Boy is planning to strike next," Hades explained. "For whatever reason, he wants something on the World of Twelve. Don't know why, don't care. I'm taking you on a little road trip to see what you can do. You kill the guy, you're on the team. You blow this…well, we'll get back to what happens if you blow this. Sound fair?"

"I'm all for it," Tyrian replied, smiling broadly. "But before I agree to your terms, I'd like to know what happens to me if I fail. I'm guessing I perish slowly and painfully before my soul becomes yours to command?"

"See, I suggested that to Malef," Hades responded, "and she actually said she had a better plan in mind for ya." He flung out a hand, casting a Corridor of Darkness. "Walk with me, talk with me."

Hades strode into the portal, and Tyrian leapt right in after him.

On the other side was blank nothingness. Not Darkness, but instead an empty white that stretched for all eternity. It wasn't even possible to distinguish the ground Hades and Tyrian stood on from the rest of the realm.

They only looked forward, not bothering to turn around after the Corridor had closed. Otherwise, they might have taken notice of a curious figure some ways back.

"Welcome to the White Dimension," Hades introduced, spreading his arms wide. "Nothing but white, white, white, as far as you can possibly think of to go. No furniture, no landmarks, no sights to see, no food to eat, no water to drink, and NO ONE to talk to. THIS is what happens if you blow it. Best part? You'll get hungry. You'll get thirsty. But the White Dimension takes care of all your mortal bodily needs for you so that you never die. You CAN'T die. Don't even think about impaling yourself with that tail. The place won't let you. It's just going to be you wandering around, looking for things you'll never find. I was going to say you'll probably lose your mind, but babe, don't take this the wrong way, but lookin' at you, noooooot so sure that didn't already happen somewhere along the line. Now, think of what would happen if you WEREN'T mortal! Wouldn't wanna be in those shoes! Anyway, screw up the job, and it's the White Dimension for you. Capisce?"

"We are understood," Tyrian stated, his expression souring. It was not at all a desirable punishment. But he hadn't expected there not to be stakes.

"If we're clear," Hades stated, "then let's mosey for Mozzy." He cast another Corridor.

The ears of both were pierced by a desperate cry of "Wait! WAIT!"

They turned. There was a man there, a man they hadn't noticed before. It had taken him some time to run up to the newcomers; when he had seen them in the distance, his heart had begun to pound. He wore tattered garments of white, his long brown hair a messy tangle. His left arm was missing; the spot on his skin where it would have been connected glowed a brilliant sea-green.

"Okay, maybe you WILL have somebody to talk to in here," Hades sighed. "Memo to self: put Scorpion Boy as far away as possible from this guy so they can't entertain each other. It is, y'know, infinity."

"You're acting as if I've already failed!" Tyrian scoffed.

"How…is this possible?" the stranger rasped. "How are you able to enter and leave the White Dimension? You…you don't have the Eliacube!"

"I'm a god," Hades taunted. "Doi. I can go wherever the me I want."

"Take me with you," the stranger begged. "Please. Please, don't leave me here alone…"

"Sorry," Hades huffed. "No hitchhikers."

"It's adorable how sympathetic he thinks we are," Tyrian giggled.

"I don't care about sympathy!" the stranger said hurriedly. "I can help you! There must be something you want. I can help you get it! Just please, please don't leave me alone again! Are you going to the World of Twelve? I know it! I know it well! Do you want it destroyed? I can help you do that! I can help you conquer it! I can help you – "

Tyrian held up a hand, and the stranger fell silent. "I'm getting the strangest feeling…that we're on the same page," he laughed.

"'Destroyed' and 'conquered' are two of my favorite words," Hades added.

"All I need is the Eliacube," the stranger panted. "It will give me back my powers. Then I can help you with whatever you need." Insofar as it suited him, he added in his mind. He was desperate, but even desperation didn't rob him of his right to renege on a deal.

"I have business on the World of Twelve," Tyrian stated. "I've been ordered to complete a very specific task. Taking out the trash, if you will. And I've already got a slight idea of how to do it. But in order to work out the specifics, I'm going to need someone who knows that world. Someone to show me what I can use to my advantage. Are you that someone? Hmmmmmm?"

"Yes!" the stranger emphasized. "Yes, yes, yes! I am exactly what you are looking for! Just let me get my powers back, and I'll prove it!"

"Really?" Hades sighed. "You're just pickin' 'em up off the street now, Scorpion Boy?"

"Trust me," Tyrian stated cryptically, "and you'll be glad when it all pans out in the end. Just promise me that if he doesn't play by the rules, you'll help me get rid of him. What do you think? Back here? Or YOUR realm?"

Hades' eyes flicked up to the hood the stranger wore, with two large protrusions shaped like animal ears sticking up. He knew they weren't ears. "I don't think my realm's an option for this guy," he stated. "Eh. Might as well see where this goes. We'll take him."

"You won't regret it," the stranger said eagerly, not even knowing yet if he was speaking the truth.

"Might I know the name of my fortuitously met assistant?" Tyrian asked.

The stranger grinned, an expression that rather matched Tyrian's own face. "Qilby."

...

This time, when Yzma, Mim, Snatcher, Roman, Aghoul, Wuya, and the Huntsman gathered, in the control room, it was without black cloaks. More importantly, it was with Mozenrath.

"Does someone want to fill me in on what exactly we're doing?" Mozenrath asked, deadpan.

"Doing what everyone wants," Snatcher explained as he adjusted his tall red top hat. "Finding a little more time."

"The concentrated time element that will fill in our spell, to be precise," Yzma clarified. She held up the compass. "THIS will show us the way."

Mozenrath's discomfort was apparent to all present; he was physically retreating, leaning back, tense all over. He didn't want to admit that his distrust extended past the people currently around him – those who claimed to be his closest allies and best friends – and all the way to this spell they were putting together. How was Mozenrath to believe it was his idea? How was he to know it wasn't a pathway to his own doom?

He refused to admit it.

But they all knew that was how he felt anyway. It was written all over him.

"I promise you we are going to have a good time," Roman said encouragingly.

"Well, that or at least one of us is going to get horribly mangled," Wuya sighed dryly.

"Why not both?" Mim asked.

"I guess I'm going to have to learn why I run with this crowd one way or another," Mozenrath sighed.

"Then shall we?" Yzma asked.

"It is as opportune of a time as any," the Huntsman stated. "Cast the Corridor."

Mim took on that particular duty, and the Corridor opened up, inviting and intimidating at the same time.

"I still don't like the thought of all of you leaving," a cold voice broke in. All turned to face Vexen, who stood at the edge of the room. "Who, exactly, will keep order in your absence?"

"You, I guess," Mozenrath said casually.

"Is that smart?" Aghoul wondered out loud.

"We don't exactly have a lot of options," Wuya reminded him.

Vexen nodded. "I will make sure this ship is kept, if you'll pardon the wordplay, shipshape."

"We better not come back to find everyone else deep-frozen," Yzma grunted.

"You better not come back with more injuries than I can handle," Vexen retorted.

"Is…that something that happens often?" Mozenrath asked.

"Better not to think about it," Roman replied.

Mozenrath flinched. "How is THAT supposed to make me – "

"Chill, Righty!" Roman groaned. "If it makes you feel any better, it's USUALLY me who ends up getting mangled for some reason. …Why is it always me?"

"Because you run into situations without assessing them," the Huntsman explained. "You end up in over your head more often than not."

"Maybe we shouldn't have let Roman have the first turn in charge," Yzma whispered to Wuya.

"Too late," Wuya whispered back. "He made us swear no backsies."

"Can we just stop gabbing and go?" Roman urged.

And because the other six who had been present in the clandestine meeting had agreed indeed to let Roman have the first go, they all had to obey his order, and Mozenrath found himself forced to follow the crowd.

It didn't occur to anyone to pay attention to Snatcher's hat. After all, it seemed the least important thing to observe.

...

The Corridor emptied out at the edge of a tall, imposing-looking wall. Some ways down, a long line of people in all shapes and sizes, including some with fur and some with leaves covering their skin, were lined up at an aperture in the wall, waiting their turn to get in.

"Where…are we?" Mozenrath asked.

"We're not exactly sure," Yzma admitted. "This is where Vexen's coordinates took us."

"Does anyone else feel like maybe we shouldn't have trusted Iceman to show us the right way?" Roman pointed out. "He does have it in for most of us for being 'too loud' and 'distracting me from my work' and 'smoking in the lab' and 'breaking all of my highly sensitive lab equipment because you were exactly as drunk as you said I thought you were and decided my tools were your playthings.'"

"If this leads us to a dead end," Aghoul vowed, "we'll just have to arrange a little payback."

"Don't kill him," Mozenrath said quickly. "If I've been paying attention, he's our only medic."

"I wasn't going to kill him," Aghoul said defensively. "Just hide a bomb under his mattress."

"That would kill him," Mozenrath stated dryly.

"I keep forgetting what actually counts as mortal peril to you people with pulses," Aghoul muttered.

Yzma held up the compass. "Well, the needle seems to be pointing – "

Roman made a great show of faux clearing his throat. "I'm sorry, but WHO should have the compass right now?"

Yzma rolled her eyes, making a guttural noise as she forked over the compass.

Roman took a look at the needle. "Right through this wall," he announced. "The thingamabob is probably right on the other side."

"Or several thousand miles in that direction," Yzma reminded him.

"Are you the one with the compass or am I the one with the compass?" Roman snapped. "Anyway, I say we see what everyone's getting in line for."

"A surprisingly solid plan of action, coming from you," the Huntsman commented.

The eight set out for the gate in the wall. "This is rather refreshing," Snatcher pointed out. "The eight of us together like old times, with no one else to interrupt."

"It would be better if I actually knew you people," Mozenrath huffed under his breath.

"You left your hat behind," Wuya informed Snatcher.

"My hat…?" Snatcher did an about-face to see the red headwear lying on the ground, upright. "Could've sworn it was only just upon my head." He backtracked, bending to pick up the hat.

He intended to sweep it up by the brim, but found that it was much heavier than expected, and refused to simply budge off the ground. He pulled harder at the brim, this time managing to lift the hat off the ground and spill out the crumpled-up person who had been hiding inside of it.

All eight gaped as the stowaway unfolded, standing to full height. Snatcher looked back and forth between him and the hat, trying to figure out how it was even physically possible for him to have fit inside.

"Hellooooooooo," Ragdoll greeted, waving and beaming.

There was a silence before Mozenrath simply said "NO" and thrust out his hand. A circle of blackness fizzled into existence, then winked out. "Wuya! How do you make this WORK? I need to send him BACK!"

"But I only just got here," Ragdoll argued.

"We are NOT taking YOU," Mozenrath growled, trying again and again to open the Corridor.

"Mr. Merkel – " Snatcher began.

"Please, call me Ragdoll when we're on a mission," Ragdoll implored.

"…Ragdoll," Snatcher corrected. "Why were you inside my hat?"

"Because I knew if I asked to come along, you'd say no," Ragdoll replied cheekily.

"I'M SAYING NO RIGHT NOW!" Mozenrath growled as he struggled with the Corridor. "No, no, NO!"

Wuya put a hand on Mozenrath's right arm. "We'll work on Corridors later," she promised. She then put up the Corridor herself. "Ragdoll. Home. Now."

"But I don't want to," Ragdoll argued. "Am I not part of this team?"

"Not the inner circle, Mister Twister," Roman reminded him. "We're the original eight, okay? The real deal. You need to go back home and make sure Iceman doesn't flash freeze the entire base."

"I was so itching for an adventure," Ragdoll retorted. "I could help you, you know. You're looking for a highly valuable artifact, are you not? It sounds like you could use a master thief on your side."

"For the LAST TIME," Yzma said through gritted teeth. "GO HOME."

"Oh, can't we let him play along for now?" Mim implored. "He is quite the barrel of fun!"

"I don't see anyone else on your team who can fit inside a top hat without using magic," Ragdoll added. "You might need that, you know."

"When are we going to need specifically that?" Mozenrath groaned.

"Ehhh…" Roman thought it over. "Mister Twister, I'd LOVE to have you along. Really, I would. You've got swagger. But this was supposed to be kind of a team bonding thing."

"I won't get in the way," Ragdoll promised. "You'll hardly even know I'm here."

"Somehow, I doubt that," the Huntsman groaned.

"We're seriously wasting time arguing this," Roman sighed. "I say we just let him tag along."

"Or we could just throw him into the Corridor by force," Mozenrath suggested.

"Which I am willing to do," the Huntsman stated.

"If you must," Ragdoll replied. "By all means, do leave me alone with your personal belongings. I haven't yet explored just how intricate of a labyrinth our headquarters' ventilation system is. I'll put that on my to-do list after trying on Yzma's shoes and reading that book I saw Mozenrath leafing through earlier. Though, to save time, I could probably just take both of them into the ducts. It's a good thing I wouldn't be bitter at any of you for excluding me from a mission, or else I might just be tempted to leave them there."

The eight knew they were compromised. Wuya dismissed the Corridor.

"Mister Twister," Roman sighed, "you're terrible."

"That's why we get along," Ragdoll reminded him.

"We DON'T get along," Mozenrath grunted. "Not you and me."

"Well, this will just have to be the mission where we change that," Ragdoll stated as he set out for the gate.

"Just promise me one thing," Mozenrath pleaded. "No memes."

"You're a killjoy, Mozenrath."

"NO. MEMES."

"All right, agreed."

"WHAM ARMY, move out!" Roman declared, taking the lead of the group that was now of nine and striding confidently toward the gate.

...

Errands within Radiant Garden had been completed. Sora had taken his team consisting of Ruby, Papyrus, Stork, and Jasmine in one ship out to the World of Twelve. Kairi had led Jaune, Cadance, Madison, Vida, Chip, Genie, and Carpet on another ship bound for Galra Space. Sadira had immediately involved herself in the construction of the hourglass, and was spending a late night working on it. That left Riku, Aladdin, Nora, Ren, Nick, Xander, and Luna to stay in a block of guest rooms in the upper level of the Radiant Garden castle.

Xander settled into his bed: a plushy piece of furniture situated in a spacious room decorated in shades of dark green. He found it almost thrilling: that same experience one got while bunking in a hotel room on a vacation. He couldn't have known how long it had taken Riku to get used to the idea of inhabiting these chambers once more, and how thoughts of the near identical room Maleficent had given him were keeping him awake, forcing him to pace back and forth in the hall outside. He couldn't have known that Luna lay awake settled upon her own bed, used to night as her domain and utterly perplexed as to the idea of sleeping through all of it. All Xander knew was that he was tired out, he wanted to sleep, and the bed they had given him was more than conducive enough for that. He lay back, closing his eyes.

He did not, however, fall asleep right away. He simply lay still for a while, waiting for sleep to come. And had it arrived on schedule, far worse would have happened than what did.

Grimhilde, seeing Xander through her mirror, believed him to be asleep. She created a Corridor leading from her chambers into Xander's room. He was, after all, one of the Fairest of All she had seen in her mirror: specifically a male Fairest she had asked the glass to focus on.

She was sure she could take him unprepared. All the same, she was well aware he was surrounded by powerful allies and would have a weapon nearby, despite his wand having been stripped from him by Ursula. She planned to take the second required Fairest heart immediately after her capture of Xander, as well, and she did not yet have an estimate of how difficult that would be. So she had brought backup. The Dark Ace strode out of the Corridor behind her, sword blazing brightly in his hand. The raven Diablo rounded out the trio, flapping his way through to perch on Grimhilde's shoulder, ready to act as another set of eyes when it came to the next mission.

Things might have gone very, very wrong indeed. But when the Corridor was formed in Xander's room, Luna felt the energy of it in her own chamber. She flinched. "Something is not right," she muttered to herself. And when she opened the door, she found Riku in the hallway outside immediately.

Grimhilde and the Dark Ace seized Xander. His eyes flew open, and as he realized he was being kidnapped, he tried to scream. The noise came out muffled by the Dark Ace's hand clamped over his mouth. "Don't even try," the Dark Ace mocked in a whisper. "Your friends can't help you now."

A rope braided of magic-resistant material was coiled around Grimhilde's arm; she removed it and tied it tightly around Xander, binding his limbs.

The door burst open, Luna's horn glowing as Riku raised his sword in a battle-ready position. "LET HIM GO!" Riku yelled.

"I don't think we will," the Dark Ace responded, his own blade lighting up.

With a yell, Riku surged toward the Dark Ace, his sword clashing against the Inferno blade. The noise was loud enough to wake everyone else in the block, and soon, Aladdin, Nora, Ren, and Nick were outside the door, their own weapons in hand.

Grimhilde knew she and the Dark Ace were outmatched for the moment. "Follow me!" she commanded, dismissing the Corridor she'd used to enter and opening a new one.

The Dark Ace slashed out at Riku, forcing him to jump back a step, before scooping up the struggling Xander in the crook of his arm. Suddenly struck by inspiration, Riku darted forward, intending to land a very specific blow. The Dark Ace was caught off guard as Riku struck, making a small tear in his clothing, just over his stomach. He could feel a tiny rivulet of blood dripping down.

Grimhilde had already disappeared into the Corridor, Diablo clutching her shoulder tightly. The Dark Ace turned and dashed after her, taking the helpless Xander with him. The Corridor began to fade.

But Luna reached out to it with magic, forcing it to remain open and betray the escape route the villains had used. "Go now!" she commanded. "Follow them!"

Riku, Aladdin, Nora, Ren, and Nick charged into the Darkness, and once she was certain all were through, Luna followed.

...

The other side of Grimhilde's Corridor opened up into a jarringly different landscape. For one, while it had been nighttime in Radiant Garden, it was noon on this world, the sun at its apex in a bright blue sky. For another, Riku and his companions were surrounded by tropical vegetation. Riku was reminded of the Destiny Islands, though he was sure if that was where he had been taken, he would know. The sound of the ocean was audible in one direction and the vague noises of civilization and people enjoying the outdoors emanated from another.

"Where are we?" Nora wondered out loud. She turned to Luna. "You brought us here. Any ideas?"  
"Not a clue," Luna admitted, shaking her head.

"She's gone!" Nick growled as he scanned the surrounding forest. "Stop just standing around staring at everything! We have to find Xander!"

"We don't even know if he's on this world," Ren pointed out. "They could have made another portal as soon as we showed up."

"Well, we can't just give up!" Aladdin emphasized.

"We aren't going to," Riku insisted. "I might have a way we can track where they are. I'm not sure how to use it, though."

"What are you talking about?" Nora asked.

"When Sora and I were sabotaged by Xehanort during the Mark of Mastery exam," Riku explained, "Xehanort put a symbol on Sora that he could use to spy on him. An 'X' he called the 'Recusant's Sigil.' When I was fighting that swordsman, I remembered it, and I cut an X into him. Just a small one. I knew he was going to make an escape, and I thought it might give us a way to keep track of him. But I don't know how to use the Sigil to find him."

"I do," Luna broke in. "The Recusant's Sigil is a spell that is often forbidden among those who use Dark magic. It is seen as an intrusion of privacy. But in this case, I agree it was necessary. A small mark made in the skin with a sword will be hard to track, and it will heal quickly. But I can at the very least tell you whether or not the swordsman is still on this world, and perhaps even pinpoint which world he did escape to at last."

"So do it!" Nick growled.

"There's no use getting angry," Ren told him softly.

Luna closed her eyes, reaching out to sense familiar magic. At the edges of her perception, a faint beacon pulsed.

"The swordsman has not left this world," Luna informed the others, "but I cannot tell which way he has gone or where he and the sorceress are currently hiding."

"Then let's start looking," Aladdin suggested. "If they haven't left this world, they can't have gone too far, right?"

"Maybe we should check out where all that noise is coming from," Nora suggested.

Riku shook his head. "They won't have gone where there are people. They'll be hiding. We should search the forest first. If we don't find them there, then we'll follow the sound."

It was agreed upon that this was a good plan, and into the forest they ventured.

...

Alibert's pub was packed with guests, most of whose orders proved them to have voracious appetites. The proprietor's adopted son, Yugo, was kept busy in the kitchen, chopping vegetables, frying up meat, and dishing it all out over rice.

Cooking helped him keep his thoughts in order. When he was at work in front of the oven, he could rationally consider the recent quarrel he'd had with his brother Adamaï, the one that had caused the latter to storm away with someone Yugo wasn't entirely convinced wasn't evil. He could also rationally consider the feelings he harbored for one of his dearest friends…but found himself unable to act upon, as over the past few years, she had aged as most people do, but Yugo's own body had not, keeping him a child. It was something that came with the territory of being one of the ancient race of Eliatropes: they simply didn't age at the same rate as any other race on the World of Twelve.

Dishing out the next batch of orders, including five plates of various combinations of fish, rice, noodles, and cabbage, Yugo found his mood pleasantly improved by the smell of the perfectly prepared food. Thinking about the loss of his brother or the pining of his heart took a back seat. He didn't even have to be the world's hero. He could just be a cook's assistant.

"Order's up!" he cried as he exited the kitchen, bearing the five plates on a tray. He tossed the first plate at its intended table with a flourish.

"Got it!" the recipient, a teenage boy with spiky brown hair, remarked as he caught the plate of fish and rice.

Yugo spun a 360 before tossing the next plate, a spiced mixture of rice and vegetables; it landed neatly before a tall young woman with long, dark hair. A third plate, this one loaded with a filet of meat over noodles, landed in front of a teenage girl with dark brown hair tinted with red; she squealed at the sight of the food.

Yugo had to admit he had never seen anyone of either race of the last two people at the table. But on the World of Twelve, one saw all sorts, so he didn't give it much mind. To the one who appeared to be an animate skeleton, he lobbed a bowl of oatmeal. Then, targeted at the one with green skin and long, dark hair shrouding his face, Yugo let a plate of vegetables, heavy on cabbage, fly.

The oatmeal skidded gently into place in front of its customer. The vegetables, however, smacked right into the green man's face. As the plate slid to the floor and the food with it, Yugo could see very plainly that the man was not amused.

All the same, Yugo had to laugh. "Four out of five is better than I usually do! Sorry about that. I'll be back with another plate, on the house!" He disappeared into the kitchen.

Ruby bit her lip to keep from laughing as Stork picked peppers out of his hair. "Well, this is a great start," Stork sighed.

"Hopefully he'll just bring our food up to the table this time," Jasmine replied. "In the meantime, we won't eat until you get your food. It wouldn't be fair."

Ruby had a bite of noodles – the closest thing she could find to order to ramen – halfway to her mouth. She set down her fork, pouting a little.

"So has anyone thought of where we should even start LOOKING for Mozenrath?" Stork asked. "This is a pretty big world. We could spend years here trying to find him and not know what he's up to until it's too late."

"Mozenrath isn't hard to figure out," Jasmine told him. "If we find the most powerful magic in this world, he'll be after it."

"And hopefully, we can intercept him before he does too much damage," Sora stated.

"How badly does Mozenrath usually mess things up once he finds powerful magic?" Ruby asked.

"That depends on what he finds," Jasmine explained. "If it's a weapon, he's definitely going to use it to threaten powerful people into giving him what he wants."

"SO HOW ARE WE GOING TO FIND OUT WHAT POWERFUL MAGIC HE COULD BE AFTER?" Papyrus asked.

"Maybe we could ask?" Ruby suggested.

"Great idea," Stork replied sarcastically. "We'll just pick a person in this room and ask them, 'So, what incredibly powerful magical item could a maniacal evildoer potentially use to destroy the entire world?'."

"THAT'S A GREAT IDEA!" Papyrus cried, not catching the sarcasm. As Yugo, who admittedly had caught the latter snippet of the conversation as he approached the table with Stork's replacement order, drew near, Papyrus turned to him and said cheerfully, "THANK YOU FOR BRINGING US THIS DELICIOUS FOOD! IF YOU DON'T MIND, COULD YOU PLEASE TELL US WHAT INCREDIBLY POWERFUL MAGICAL ITEM A MANIACAL EVILDOER COULD POTENTIALLY USE TO DESTROY THE ENTIRE WORLD?"

Yugo had enjoyed taking a break from being the world's hero. But when it sounded to him as though his world was in danger again, he knew he couldn't refuse the call. "Is the World of Twelve in danger?" he asked.

"No!" Ruby said defensively.

"Yes," Stork stated. "It's doomed."

"May…be?" Sora contributed.

"There might be a small problem," Jasmine clarified. "We're trying to stop it before it turns into a big problem."

"What's going on?" Yugo asked. "Maybe I can help! I know what you're probably looking for is in the Sadida Kingdom. That's where most of the world's most powerful magic is kept." Aside from certain dofus, he thought, but he had no idea where the dragons who acted as their guardians had taken those, and that probably meant whatever villain these five were trying to head off didn't know either.

"THANK YOU FOR THE ADVICE," Papyrus told Yugo, "BUT WE CAN TAKE IT FROM HERE. WE ARE TRAINED PROFESSIONALS WHEN IT COMES TO FIGHTING EVIL! WE WOULDN'T WANT SOMEONE LIKE YOU TO GET HURT!"

"I've fought a lot of evil too," Yugo insisted. "You might not have known this from looking at me, but…I'm actually Yugo the Eliatrope."

He expected the name to be met with recognition. Instead, it was met with five blank stares.

"You…don't know my name, do you?" Yugo realized. "But I thought everyone in the World of Twelve had heard of…" He trailed off, his mind running wild. "Unless…you're not from…?"

"We're definitely not from around the area," Ruby informed him. "It's a long story."

"WHAT HEROIC FEATS HAVE YOU DONE?" Papyrus asked.

"Well…" Yugo puffed out his chest a little. "I stopped Nox the Xelor from sapping the Wakfu of the Sadida Kingdom and killing everyone in it. Then I stopped Qilby the mad Eliatrope from destroying our world. I would take credit for stopping the demon Rushu, too, but that was all my friends."

"You've always gotta be able to rely on good friends when you're fighting evil," Sora said with a nod. "Maybe you can help us!"

"We don't know the way to the Sadida Kingdom," Jasmine admitted. "Could you show us the way?"

"Of course!" Yugo said enthusiastically. "My friend Ruel can drive us there! I just have to let my papa know I'm going." Without a further word, he turned and dashed from the table.

Jasmine grinned. "I think we made a friend."

"GOOD," Papyrus commented.

"Isn't he a bit young?" Stork asked worriedly.

"Aren't Ruby and I a bit young?" Sora rebutted.

"Can I eat now?" Ruby whimpered.

"Well, we've all got our plates now, so let's dig in!" Sora suggested, and the quintet did so happily.

As Yugo raced through the kitchen, a small bird chirped to observe him passing by. "It's another adventure, Az!" Yugo called out to the bird. "Are you coming with?"

Az gave an enthusiastic peep and followed.

Yugo found a tall, thickset and bearded man deeper back in the kitchens, placing bread dough in the oven. "Papa!" he greeted Alibert.

"Yugo!" Alibert replied, noticing his son's aura of exuberance. "What's got you all excited?"

"I'm going to the Sadida Kingdom," Yugo explained. "The World of Twelve might be in trouble again. I think they need me."

This gave Alibert pause. "Who needs you?"

"They're adventurers from far away," Yugo explained.

"I don't know how I feel about this," Alibert admitted. "It feels like you only just came home after the quest for the Dofus. Maybe you should take a break, the way Ruel has."

"Ruel can afford to take a break," Yugo explained. "So can Pinpin and Eva. I know they said no more adventures for a while. Ruel is just an ordinary Enutrof, and ever since Pinpin gave up his powers, he and Eva are an ordinary Iop and ordinary Cra. But I'm the Eliatrope king. I don't think I can turn it down when I'm supposed to help. It's my responsibility." He paused. "I may need Ruel to help drive to the Sadida Kingdom, if he's willing to do it."

"You will have to ask him about that," Alibert sighed. "I suppose there's no stopping you from going, is there?"

"I'm sorry – "

"No, no, no." Alibert stepped away from the oven, bending down to meet his son's eye. "Do not apologize. I want you to stay safe, but I also want you to follow your heart. If you must go…then I give you my blessing."

"Thanks, Papa," Yugo said with a smile.

"But if it turns out the real danger is these adventurers," Alibert said sternly, "promise me you will get yourself to safety immediately."

"I will, Papa!"

Yugo rushed back out to where the quintet of heroes was finishing up the dregs of their food. "Ready when you are!" he announced.

"So who's this friend that's driving us?" Sora asked.

...

Ruel Stroud folded his arms decisively. "Absolutely not."

"But how else are we going to get to the Sadida Kingdom without your help?" Yugo asked. He and his five new companions stood outside the Enutrof's house, where a strange contraption shaped like a locomotive engine with a drill at its front end was parked.

"Do you even know for sure that there is a threat to the World of Twelve?" Ruel questioned.

"Yes!" Ruby insisted. "We saw it in…" She wasn't sure how to describe the hourglass. "Well…a reliable source said it was here!"

"A reliable source, huh?" Ruel raised a brow, staring Ruby down. "Have you actually seen evidence?"

"Not yet," Ruby admitted.

"Then I'm sitting this one out," Ruel insisted. "Call me when you're sure. Until then, I'm not getting dragged on another adventure without any money to be gained from it!" He sighed. "But you can take that if you want it." He motioned toward the odd vehicle.

"WOWIE!" Papyrus cried. "THANKS! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL GLADLY VOLUNTEER TO DRIVE…BUT I HAVE THE FEELING SOMEONE ELSE MIGHT WANT TO. AUDIBLE WINK!"

"You know me well," Stork said, pleased. "It's no airship, but I wouldn't mind giving it a spin."

"This all just sounds like a wild tofu chase to me," Ruel huffed. "Good luck, all the same."

"Thank you!" Yugo told him. "Hopefully, you're right, and we shouldn't have any problems."  
"Hopefully," Ruel agreed, wondering if deep down, he was so skeptical because he simply didn't want to think about another terrible threat that could put him or Yugo in danger. He ultimately decided it was better not to pursue that train of thought too far, and as the party of now six approached the train, Ruel muttered to himself about traveling adventurers and their tall tales.

The vehicle was no airship, it was true. But Stork found the controls maneuverable, and in very little time, he had the vehicle moving rather smoothly, picking up speed as it exited the town borders. "Where to first?" Stork asked.

"Turn a bit that way – yes – yes, now we're on the right course," Yugo replied. "The path stays straight for a while. In the meantime, I want to know who this great evil is we're trying to stop!"

"His name is Mozenrath," Sora replied. "We've been running into him and his friends for a while. It's kind of a long story."

"That's the second time you've said that," Yugo pointed out. "I would like to hear this long story, if you can tell it."

Sora, Ruby, Stork, and Jasmine all paused, trying to decide how much to share with their new companion. Papyrus, however, had no such inhibitions. "DO YOU KNOW MUCH ABOUT OTHER WORLDS?" he asked.

Yugo nodded. "My people came from one. Is that what you meant by not being from around here?"

The others all nodded.

Yugo's face lit up. "Tell me all about the world you're from!" he begged. "Please! I want to hear all about it!"

"Well, that's the thing," Sora admitted. "We're not all from the same world."

"Even better!" Yugo chirped.

"We'll tell you about our adventures," Jasmine resolved, "if you tell us about yours."

Yugo beamed. "It's a deal!"

...

No one was really happy with the way Vexen had taken charge of the base since the core WHAM ARMY had departed. He preferred to remain shut up in the laboratory, but ventured out just long enough to give orders about the maintenance of the base, which no one felt like actually carrying out. And for all Vexen cared about upkeep, he never seemed to want to do any of it himself, doling it all out to his teammates while he occupied himself with his experiments.

Garfield trudged into the lab to give Vexen a progress report on what he'd been assigned. "I cleaned all the crud off the bottom of the ship like you asked."

"Good," Vexen said without looking up from his work. "Who knows what detritus we've picked up floating through interspace? Left unchecked, it could give us problems that go beyond the cosmetic. Now, you are romantically involved with Peter Merkel, are you not? I haven't been able to locate him, and I need someone to dust out the air ducts."

"Actually, he stowed away on the big guys' mission," Garfield informed Vexen.

"And you know this how?"

"Because he's been planning it forever. He wanted to get out of the base. And now that I see what the current mission is of everyone who got left behind, kinda wishing I'd gone with him."

"Hmph," Vexen huffed. "I suppose the ventilation system can wait."

Garfield almost didn't want to show Vexen what he'd discovered during his cleaning, but he had no other way of figuring out exactly what it was. "I actually found something stuck to the side of the ship out there and thought maybe you could tell me how many figures it'd fetch."

That got Vexen to look up, albeit in a disgruntled fashion. "And what, pray tell, could you have found in the detritus stuck to the ship that could be of any value?"

Garfield extended his hand. In it lay what appeared to be a blue gem with a core of radiating light. Part of the stone seemed broken away, revealing a jagged piece of otherworldly ore, thin and bent like a lightning strike's shape.

Vexen flinched. "DROP THAT IMMEDIATELY!"

Startled, Garfield let the gem fall to the floor.

"What were you THINKING?" Vexen barked. "Holding a star shard in your hand like that!" He retrieved a pair of tongs with which he removed the shard from the floor in order to set it up on a high shelf.

"Well, sor-ry," Garfield huffed. "What's the big deal about it?"

"Star material is an unreliable method of inter-world travel at best," Vexen explained. "When in contact with one, one risks taking an unexpected journey to an unknown location at any time. You're lucky you weren't transported a hundred worlds away simply by carrying that shard in here." He left the shard on the shelf. "There would be no way to get you back from that, but knowing Mozenrath, he would put ME in charge of retrieving you."

"So I'm guessing we're not finding a good black market to hawk it," Garfield sighed.

"No," Vexen said sourly. "We most certainly are not. I am keeping it here in case it proves useful in my work. But it is far too dangerous for any of the rest of you to handle."

"But when YOU use it, it's fine, right?"

"I have devoted decades of study to handling such volatile magical materials. You didn't even believe in the existence of magic until a few short days ago."

"Y'know, if that thing ends up stuffing YOU a hundred worlds away, I don't think I'd actually miss you," Garfield grunted.

Vexen gave a slight snort in reply. He had heard such insults many, many times, but he still didn't appreciate the disrespect. "What is the condition of the bathrooms in the central quadrant?"

"The BATHROOMS? Are you KIDDING me?"  
"I most certainly am not," Vexen said dryly. "We are interdimensional criminals. That does not mean we have to live in filth. Report back to me when the toilets in the central quadrant have been scrubbed."

"You suck."

"So I've been told."

Garfield took his leave, thoroughly done with chores for the day and fully willing to see how long it took Vexen to notice that the bathrooms would be left unattended to all day.

No sooner had he gone than Xerxes, still bearing his new collar, came floating into the laboratory, looking for some means of entertainment while Mozenrath (and, for that matter, Snatcher, who he could usually count on to sneak him extra treats) was absent. "What Vexen doing?" he asked.

"None of your concern," Vexen snorted as his eyes were planted firmly on his work once more. "Leave."

"But Xerxes bored – "

"I said LEAVE!" Vexen swatted at Xerxes; he would have struck if Xerxes had not been faster.

Xerxes, pouting, floated up to the shelf above Vexen and curled up there, trying to think of what he could do to kill time. The star shard caught his eye; it radiated with its own light, sparkling enticingly. "What this…?" Xerxes muttered as he scooted closer to it. The shard almost seemed to beckon. Xerxes, not wanting to refuse the call, clamped his jaws around it, ready to claim it as his own and ferret it off to some secret place.

The shard activated in Xerxes' mouth, spiriting him out of the base altogether.

Vexen never noticed, for at that moment, the lights flickered. It was, in fact, a hiccup in the power that ran through the entire ship. Vexen wondered if this might be cause for alarm, and, knowing it was worth abandoning his work to know, set out to find the source.

...

As Mozenrath and his companions found their place in the line outside the wall, it became apparent that the line was leading up to a gate, and that gate was guarded by a tollbooth. An entry fee was required to gain access to what was beyond.

"We could incapacitate the man in the tollbooth easily," the Huntsman whispered.

"Or we could glamour our way in with some fake coins," Mim suggested.

"Still got the compass," Roman reminded the group. "So we're gonna deal with this my way."

"And that is?" Mozenrath asked.

"Watch and be amazed," Roman replied. In a louder tone, he said, "Hold my place in line, will you? I juuuuuust remembered I forgot something." He turned around, colliding with the person behind him. "Oh, I am SO sorry! You'll have to excuse me! I'm a klutz."

And a wallet discreetly slipped from that traveler's pocket into Roman's.

Roman managed to "accidentally" run into several more unsuspecting people, collecting their purses and wallets without their knowledge. By the time he returned to the group, they had reached the tollbooth.

"Nine tickets to entry, please," Roman said smoothly, placing well in excess of the entry fee on the counter.

The tickets were forked over, and the group was beckoned forth. "And we've got pocket money left over," Roman whispered.

Small cars, reminiscent of rollercoaster cars, were setting out on tracks. In preparation for the larger group, a car that could fit nine (technically, eight, but as the group settled in, Ragdoll folded himself up on the floor around the others' feet, and no one complained) was rolled out.

The car took the nine on a trip up, up, and up, to a point where they could finally get a good look at what lay within the walls. It was a haphazardly built city swathed in shades of orange and dark red, buildings stacked to the heavens and strewn about in streets that were only slightly less convoluted than those of the City of Old Emperors. The sight was breathtaking as seen from so far above.

"I don't know what it is," Roman observed, "but something about this place just looks…right. Like we belong here."

"The architect of these tracks certainly shares Yzma's penchant for amusement rides," Snatcher commented. "All it's missing is a drop."

"You were saying?" Aghoul gestured forward, to where the car was about to reach a peak just before a steep plunge.

"I don't like this," Mozenrath practically whimpered.

"Really?" Yzma said rather excitedly. "Because I think whoever designed this city was an absolute genius!"

As the car tipped, Mozenrath complained, "No, whoever thought a rollercoaster was a good method of transit deserves to be – "

The car plunged, and Mozenrath's threat was lost in a scream.

Yzma simply sat and enjoyed the ride in silence. It was much faster and more satisfying than the laboratory entrance rollercoaster. The experience could have been much improved without the squalling of her comrades, who apparently were used to much tamer rides. Mim and Aghoul were of course whooping with glee the whole way down. The Huntsman was trying his best to bite back his own scream, but a few strangled whimpers escaped. Mozenrath was pressed back into his seat at high velocity, going almost bloodless. Snatcher, without even really being conscious of what he was doing, clamped his arms around Roman in a vise-grip; Roman clutched right back at him as the pair screamed in the most on-pitch harmony they'd ever been able to accomplish. Wuya didn't scream or even flinch; she did, however, grunt "NO you don't" when Ragdoll was flung out of the car completely, reaching up to seize him by the ankle and pull him along like a waving flag.

Then the car reached the ground level and slowed to a more leisurely pace, giving its occupants time to get over their sudden shock.

"Now, THAT was a ride," Yzma commented, satisfied.

"It wasn't bad," Wuya agreed, flicking her wrist and slamming Ragdoll back down into the car right across her and Yzma's laps. "Just don't make me change the laboratory coaster to have a steeper drop."

"Eh, the lab is fine. Can't have too much of a good thing, after all," Yzma mused.

"It was exhilarating, was it?" Ragdoll commented. "Near-death experience notwithstanding. Actually, partially BECAUSE of the near-death experience."

"I wanted a near-death experience," Aghoul pouted.

"You're already dead, sweetie," Mim reminded him.

Snatcher realized he was still holding tightly to Roman as though for dear life. He quickly let go, straightening up in his seat. "That never happened and we aren't to speak of it," he insisted, not wanting to admit how panicked a simple rollercoaster had made him.

But as much as he wanted to protect his ego, there was one who wished to protect his own more. "I saw you do nothing," the Huntsman grunted. "Just as I did and said nothing." He turned to Mozenrath, who was still frozen with wide eyes. "Are you all right – "

"WE ARE NEVER DOING THAT AGAIN," Mozenrath growled.

Now that the car had slowed, it was taking a course through the city, showing off the urban underbelly. Roman's instinct had been correct: it was a hive for villains. Vendors stood out front of their shops, calling out advertisements for assassinations, weaponry, and potions and poisons of every kind.

"What did you say about us having some spending money?" Mim asked. "I see quite a few things of interest." She giggled as they passed a knife vendor.

"Believe me," Roman told her, "I want literally all of the stuff we're looking at. Is that a flaming harpoon gun? Yeah, I want a flaming harpoon gun. But right now, we're looking for information. We need to figure out just how far we're going with this compass, and the best way to do that is to get in with the seediest crowd we can find. We're looking for a bar. Bars attract bad guys like rotten fruit attracts flies. Also, I could use a drink."

Another salesman advertised potions that could temporarily change one's entire appearance, giving a glamour of being stronger, thinner, or taller. "It's adorable how some people actually need potions for that," Mim cooed.

The salesman went on to say that the potion could actually give one the appearance of another gender. "That's still cheating," Snatcher muttered.

The car halted after some time, and the nine passengers disembarked. It didn't take them long to find a tavern filled to the brim with hulking thugs armed with knives and guns. "This'll be the place," Roman announced. "SOMEONE here has to know what's worth stealing in this world. And look!" He held up the compass. "It's pointing right here. This thing knows what's up." He strode confidently into the tavern, and the others held their heads up high and followed.

The sound of very loud and off-key karaoke sounded from the corner. The bar at the far end of the building was crowded by people of all shapes and sizes, with only two barstools empty. The clientele muttered to each other about the multicolored crowd that had just walked in. For one, Wuya, Mim, and Yzma were the only women in the whole building; men sized up their attractiveness and whispered lewd suggestions. For another, no one could seem to tell whether or not Ragdoll was an underdressed Xelor.

In the corner, one man, thin and pale, took a swig from a pint glass, which he then set delicately on the table. "Look at this crowd," he observed. "They just don't seem like they fit in, do they? Look at that man in blue. What kind of idiot walks around Brakmar wearing something that shows off how rich he is?"

A fluffy black cat sat on the other end of the table, his tail twitching. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" the cat asked.

The pale man, dressed all in black, grinned. "Easy pickings to rob."

"Okay, first order, we hit up the bartender," Roman commanded. "See what he knows. Only two stools open. Righty, you with me?"

"I guess," Mozenrath said with a shrug.

As Roman and Mozenrath made their way to the bar, the others glanced around the tavern for ways to occupy themselves. Wuya, Mim, and Yzma all locked eyes upon the karaoke stage. They then glanced among themselves, needing only a nod to confirm their synchronized desire.

Roman smacked a handful of coins onto the bar. "One beer," he ordered. "And one…whaddaya want, Righty? My treat."

Mozenrath knew he wasn't much of one for alcohol. The smell of beer was already overwhelming him and making him slightly sick to his stomach. Besides, he wasn't about to let Roman get him in a state where he didn't have his wits about him, not when he didn't fully trust the man. "I'll just take a coffee," he said. "Black."

"WHOA, whoa, whoa!" Roman put up his hands. "You don't wanna do that."

"And why not?" Mozenrath raised a brow. "Are you trying to tell me what I can and can't order? That compass doesn't give you THAT much power over me."

Roman then decided he might as well throw caution to the wind. "Hey, what the hell? We're having fun. One beer and one black coffee. If nothing else, this should be entertaining." As he waited for the drinks to be delivered, Roman produced a cigarette and a lighter from his pockets and lit one up.

"You seem used to this," Mozenrath told him.

"Well, this is a little more extreme than I'm used to," Roman told him. "I'm generally more of a back-alley skulker kind of guy. It's pretty nice to have all the unsavories out in the open." He inhaled deeply from the cigarette.

"I've heard those can kill you," Mozenrath said.

"And we both know THAT can kill you." Roman tapped Mozenrath's gauntlet twice.

"Touché," Mozenrath replied. "You…don't use any magic at all?"  
"Nah," Roman answered. "Never needed it. I survive based on my strength and, more importantly, my wits."

"That begs the question of how you're still alive."

"Ha, ha. Real funny, Righty. No, all I really need is my Aura. Cleans up the minor wounds and all. Semblance comes in handy every once in a while, too."

"Your…semblance? What's that?"

"That is a secret," Roman informed Mozenrath. "I like to keep 'em guessing."

Drinks were laid before the pair. Mozenrath immediately set into his coffee, while Roman slid another coin across the table, his finger lingering on it. "Y'know, we're from out of town," he said, "and we were wondering what the sights were that we needed to see. Seven wonders of the world and all. My friend and I have a particular interest in magic."

"Tell somebody who cares," the bartender grunted.

Roman took his finger off the coin, then added four more. "Time magic, actually, if you want to get specific."

"You wanna know something about time magic?" The bartender scooped up all the coins. He then leaned in close to Roman and whispered, "I don't give a rat's tail about time magic."

Roman removed the cigarette from his lips and blew a cloud of smoke directly into the bartender's face.

The man backed off, hustling to serve patrons who wouldn't hassle him. "I see you have a way with people," Mozenrath teased.

"He didn't know anything," Roman sighed. "Trust me. At least one of the people in this fine establishment is gonna talk. We just have to figure out who. In the meantime…" He took a deep draught from his beer, smacking his lips. "Hits the spot."

Across the room, Wuya, Yzma, and Mim's names were called for karaoke. The trio hit the stage and began to belt out an anthem about murder and robbery in perfect three-part harmony.

"Is this what we do for fun?" Mozenrath asked.

"Drink, sing, and harass people?" Roman replied. "Pretty much. It must be killing you that you don't know the half of anything about us, isn't it?"

Mozenrath silently, bitterly sipped his coffee.

"Look," Roman told him, "I can explain things better if you want. What would you rather hear: the amazing tales of my dashing exploits or my interpretation of your various neuroses?"

"I want to hear about both you and me," Mozenrath stated.

"Whoa!" Roman teased. "A little forward, aren't you there, Righty? I'm a taken man!"

"You know what I meant."

"Okay, point number one: you have no sense of humor. None."

Mozenrath nodded. "Sounds about right."

They continued to drink from their respective vessels as the trio of women continued their song. After Yzma, Wuya, and Mim finished off one number, the crowd begged for an encore, and they indulged.

The pale man dressed in black and the cat who accompanied him were entranced by the three sirens. The man at first had his eye on Wuya in particular. "Now, there's a woman," he commented. "Bet I can sweet-talk that redhead."

"Keep dreaming," the cat snarked. "You might have a pretty face, but open your mouth and all three of them would spit in your eye."

"Hey!" the man snapped. "I have charm and you know it."

"I also know I see a better score than the redhead," the cat pointed out. "See what's tied around the fat woman's waist?"

The pale man took note of Mim's enchanted purse, which bounced along with her as she bopped to the music. Even without knowing its magical properties, he perceived the purse to be fat, most likely loaded with money.

As soon as his eyes alit upon it, so did those of his weapons, and a chorus of voices went up in commentary:

"How much you think she's carrying?"  
"Could be one of US in that purse. Now that'd be a twist."

"Now I'll be disappointed if it's just money."

"HEY!" the pale man snapped. "Nobody asked your opinions! Though if she DOES have a Shushu in that purse…" He grinned, now having convinced himself of the idea that the enchanted purse contained one of the magical items that bore a demon of immense power within it. One way or another, he was going to get a look inside that purse.

Meanwhile, Roman kept regaling Mozenrath with stories both of Mozenrath and of himself. He got progressively drunker while Mozenrath got progressively more caffeinated. "Yeah…I sing. All the…all the time. Aaaaaaaall the time. Except people tell me I'm baaaaaad at it? I'm not bad at it. Especially not when I'm Fiammetta. Fiammetta is the gooooood shit."

"Well?" Mozenrath asked, the coffee taking its toll. "Wellwellwell? I'm not just going to take your WORD for it. Sing! Sing for me right now! I SAID RIGHT NOW!"

"Okay," Roman hiccupped. "It's a cruel, cruel world, all you little boys and girls, and some mean, nasty people want to eat you for their sup – "

Mozenrath burst out laughing far too loudly. "You are TERRIBLE."

"Hang on…no. I did it wrong. See, I have to be wearing the dress. That's how Archie does it. That Archie, he's…he's a sexy beast."

"Well," Mozenrath remarked, his voice speeding up the longer he went, "he isn't really my type, but I suppose beauty is in the eye of the beholder, which, granted, isn't something I would have thought applied to him, but then I actually saw you two around the base together and while I generally find your public displays of affection disgusting, you apparently have some kind of chemistry, and looking at you almost makes me jealous that I don't have somebody like that for myself, though really, that would probably just be more of a hindrance than anything, and did I just tell you that I was jealous of you? Because I wasn't supposed to tell you that. After all, I still don't really trust you, aaaaand I wasn't supposed to tell you that either." He turned the coffee cup upside-down. "I think I need a refill."

It was Roman's turn to laugh too loudly for too long. "Y'know…Righty…" He leaned forward, clapping a hand on Mozenrath's shoulder. "You're all right. And I don't mean…I don't mean right like the hand. I mean like…you're good people. Nooooooooo…you're bad people. That's why I like ya. It's why we get along. You…you wanna take over shit and boss people around, and I wanna steal shit on fire and set shit. I mean set shit on fire and steal shit. Yeah. How…many of these have I had?" He turned his own glass upside-down before setting it next to several brothers. (Mozenrath, by contrast, had only had one cup of coffee.) "But that's how come we work. I'll set shit on steal for you – on fire for you, I mean – and you run things so I don't get arrested for it."

"Well, assuming the things you've told me tonight are true," Mozenrath replied, "which I almost have to, since you're drunk enough that I could ask you your most embarrassing secret and you'd tell me the truth – "

"I fucked Mercury Black once. Thassit. Thassthesecret. I hate it. He's hot, but he's…ew. No."

" – anyway, point proven – "

"Do NOT tell Archie."

"All right, I swear I won't tell your boyfriend about your past affairs, though really, you'd think that would be something you'd tell him about, but then again, you probably haven't even told him your semblance either, and I'm getting off track. Anyway, from what you've told me about me, combined with what you've told me about you, we do seem compatibly rotten. And everything you've told me about me sounds right so far, even though I don't actually believe any of what you've said about me and coffee. I've been drinking coffee this whole time, and I'm fine." His left hand was twitching. "You, on the other hand, are a mess."

"Am not." Roman planted another cigarette in his mouth, but fumbled with the lighter, clicking it fruitlessly thrice in a row.

Mozenrath pressed his right index finger to the end of the cigarette. The tobacco immediately began to smolder. Mozenrath lowered his hand.

"Thanks, buddy," Roman said earnestly.

"No," Mozenrath replied. "Thank you. For informing me that apparently, I have a love-hate relationship with karaoke and a nemesis with a genie." Mozenrath still had trouble comprehending that he had a nemesis he didn't even know about. "Among, of course, other things. I do wonder if the story would be altered if it came from any of the others, given that perception is relative, but really, didn't we get off track a long time ago? Aren't you supposed to be asking around for information?"

"Right!" Roman turned to the man in the barstool next to him. "Hey, you. Got a couple questions for ya…" He held up a coin. "About…tourism. Yeah, tourism. Friends and I are visiting, and we wanna know where to go if we want to see some real time magic." He produced a few more coins, inserting one between each pair of fingers to sweeten the deal.

"Time magic, huh?" the man replied. "Maybe I know something about that. Maybe I know about something that's generally considered a fool's errand to even think about stealing. Are you a fool?"

"No," Roman said, surprisingly smoothly given his level of intoxication, "but tell me anyway."

"Surprised you don't already know," the man stated. "The incident was pretty famous. If you don't even know what I'm talking about, then you really are a fool."

Mozenrath dropped off the barstool, his confidence surging with caffeine. "Stop insulting me and my friend," he growled, "and get to the point."

"Oh, I will," the man promised. "For…fifty kamas."

Roman rifled around in his pockets, but before he could pick out the proper amount of money, Mozenrath intervened, striding up to the man and grabbing the front of his shirt. "YOU'RE GOING TO MAKE WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT CRYSTAL CLEAR," he threatened, "OR I'M GOING TO MAKE YOU WISH I WOULD JUST KILL YOU QUICKLY."

"Okay, okaaaaay, Righty," Roman cautioned, "there's…there's no need to make a scene…I'll just pay the man, and – "

"You have until three to TALK," Mozenrath growled. "ONE."

The man laughed. "And you think a skinny, pretty boy like you can actually take me? If he's a fool, you're an idiot."

"FORGET IT!" Mozenrath's rage channeled into a blast of pure energy that sent the man flying across the room and bowling over a crowded table.

"WHOA!" Roman yelled, awed. Then he let out a bit of a chuckle.

Several other men stood up. "That was one of us," a particularly tall and burly man said. "You messed with the wrong crew."

"No, YOU messed with the wrong crew," Mozenrath insisted as he climbed up onto the counter of the bar. "DOES ANYONE ELSE WANT A PIECE OF US?"

"Ehhh, fuck it." Roman climbed up on the bar next to Mozenrath, brandishing the Cudgel. "Got your back, Righty."

He and Mozenrath looked to each other, then gave a synchronized nod.

Peace might still have been achieved if Ragdoll, caught up in the spirit of things, hadn't chosen that moment to yell "BAR FIGHT!" and smash a pint glass into the back of the head of a patron who had absolutely nothing to do with the scene.

Pandemonium ensued.

Fists flew; magic seared through the air. Wuya backflipped off the stage in order to deal out a series of hard kicks to the brawlers of the tavern. Aghoul spiced things up by lobbing some well-placed skull-shaped bombs into the mix. Ragdoll stood still until a particular opponent drew close, then deftly twisted to stand behind the man, bending over backward and punching his adversary's pressure points. Mim decided to keep it fun for herself by not breaking out magic just yet and instead simply using her fists to deck men twice her size. Yzma simply clambered behind the bar and threw bottles out at long-range targets. The Huntsman twirled his staff, sending three men flying at once. Snatcher brained a man with his mallet.

And in the center of it all, Mozenrath and Roman stood back-to-back, laughing maniacally as they fired magic from one end and incendiary ammunition from the other.

The fight was about fifty versus nine, and the nine were winning.

The pale man, with the cat perched upon his shoulder, ducked and slithered through the crowd, knowing now was his chance. He waited until Mim was occupied with punching another thug, then reached out and grabbed the enchanted purse, spinning on a heel and charging out of the tavern with it.

Mim had felt the tug of the purse coming loose. "THIEF!" she suddenly cried. "HE'S STOLEN MY PURSE!" She bolted after him, heading for the door. "He…will…PAY!"

By that time, Mozenrath, Roman, Snatcher, the Huntsman, Aghoul, Wuya, Yzma, and Ragdoll had knocked out pretty much everyone else anyway, so they decided to follow Mim and the action right out the door.

The thief, one Rémington Smisse, scrambled up onto the rooftop of the nearest building and hopped from structure to structure into the heart of the city, undoing the purse strings as he ran. "Now, let's see what we've picked up…" As he opened the purse, his eyes widened.

"Let me see!" The cat, or, more accurately, Rémington's human brother Grany in the form of a cat, craned his neck to get a look. "Let me see! …What is that?"

"It's…full of miniatures," Rémington observed, ducking into an empty alley. "Tiny tables, tiny chairs…this stuff isn't valuable!" He removed one such "tiny table" and rocked it between his fingers. "This was a waste of time!"

He chucked the table to the roof he stood on, at which point it expanded to its full size, revealing itself not only to be a perfectly functioning table but one with a marble top and ornately carved legs with gargoyle-head patterns: a relic Mim had picked up on an adventure long in the past because she knew the owners would dearly miss it. The rafters of the roof groaned under the weight of the stone.

Rémington and Grany stared in awe. "Maybe we have something valuable after all…" Rémington said reverently.

"YOU! THIEF!"

His attention was drawn by the shrill shriek of his name. He and Grany turned to see Mim storming across the rooftop toward them, smoke practically coming out of her nostrils. As she got closer, her shapeshifting kicked in, and smoke literally did come out of her nostrils.

"You think you can just take my purse and then GET AWAY WITH IT?" Mim raged.

"I, er…" Rémington backed up a step. He'd seen this woman punch out larger men than him…and normally, that wouldn't faze him. However, something about the anger in her eyes gave him cause to worry and an instinct that maybe, just maybe, this was a fight he shouldn't pick. "I didn't…wait, so you mean…?" He kept on backing up until his heel was on the roof edge; any further and he would end up on a deadly tumble. "This?" He held up the purse. "This is mine."

Grany, knowing a skirmish was coming, hopped down off Rémington's shoulder and cowered under the table.

"Don't try to tell me that isn't my table!" Mim insisted, pointing to the heavy furniture.

"Well, you do have a point in that," Rémington replied.

"You made me mad," Mim crowed, "and now you're going to pay for it!" She morphed into a bright purple water buffalo with large, sharp horns. She pawed the roof once with her front hoof, dislodging a shingle.

Rémington adopted a look of horror. Mim charged straight for him, and he stood stock-still until the last moment. When she reached him, however, just before she could headbutt or gore him, he backflipped right off the roof.

The momentum propelled him around to hit the side of the building. He grasped the windowsill, slammed his feet into the wall, and then pushed off again. Flip, land, stamp the wall, repeat, all the way down until he landed safely in the street, drawing the eyes of several bystanders.

With a scream, a bright purple eagle took off from the roof, divebombing Rémington and prompting him to draw one of his pistols. He fired three shots; all missed their mark, as Mim swerved out of the way of each burst of energy. Rémington hit the dirt just as Mim leveled off; she'd expected to have gored his face, but she tasted empty air. In the meantime, Rémington rolled over onto his back, drawing both pistols. He jerked into a sitting position to see what he was up against.

Mim wheeled through the air, making a 180, swerving so one of her wing tips touched the street, and morphed into a charging tiger. By that time, the civilians had all been set into a panic, evacuating the street with screams of terror. Mim charged toward Rémington with a roar of rage.

Above it all, Grany watched, wondering if he should get involved but not quite sure how he could and survive the attempt.

Rémington opened fire. Once again, Mim evaded all his shots, able to predict where they'd land and leaping from side to side to avoid even being so much as scraped…except for the last shot, which slightly singed her fur. She lunged at Rémington.

Unfazed, he too leapt, higher than her, flipping forward, planting his hands on her shoulder blades and using her as a vault to complete the somersault and land on the other side of her. As Rémington turned to fire, he realized he felt exhilarated, alive. Something he'd felt devoid of for years, despite being involved with an array of interesting women. His attention, as far as the group of strangers had been his concern, was no longer on Wuya. As he loosed the next shot, he laughed, the sound of his gleeful voice intermingling with the BANG-BANG-BANG of the pistols. He did not by any means intend to miss…but he hoped that she would evade. The thought of Mim expiring and ending the game so soon dismayed him.

Landing on the stone empty-clawed, Mim heard the gunfire and laughter. How, she wondered, could he laugh at a time like this, when she was dead set on killing him? She figured it was time for a different tactic. Morphing back into human form, Mim spun to meet the energy blasts, putting up a deflection shield that sent the bursts of demonic plasma rocketing off in random directions and punching holes in nearby walls. Then she disappeared altogether so that Rémington was firing on empty air.

She materialized right behind him, charging up a ball of plasma in her hand that was supposed to connect with his head. Rémington paused, staring straight ahead for a moment at the place where Mim had been. She knew it just before she drove her hand upward. The intent had been to ram the explosive magic right into his head, but she knew, when he stared directly forward and didn't bother to look around, that he knew where she was. So he ducked, and the plasma blasted off into empty air. Rémington's leg swung at Mim's ankles to trip her up, and she hopped into the air over it, letting it pass beneath her. At that point, she had to admit that she was indeed having fun. She let loose another plasma bolt, and Rémington was gone, causing the bolt to shatter a small pocket into the street.

Rémington darted behind Mim, and before getting into position to take the next shot, he quickly leaned in and planted a kiss on her cheek. He ran away laughing, pistols at the ready.

"HOW DARE YOU!" Mim cried, and yet she was smiling. Things were getting fun. Rémington opened fire again, and she tracked just how long she could stand directly in the path of each blast before teleporting away to stand in the path of the next, getting closer to him all the while until she stood directly beside him. At that point, she dealt a kiss to his cheek. Revenge. Then she was gone again.

Grany gave up on trying to insert himself into the fight. His brother didn't need protecting. He was very clearly enjoying himself.

Rémington had his arms spread out to their full extent on either side of him, fingers on the triggers of the pistols, ready for when Mim showed up again. What he wasn't ready for was for a large purple housecat to leap onto his head from behind. He shrieked and stumbled ungracefully as Mim latched her limbs around his head, considering extending her claws and marring that pretty face of his but ultimately thinking better of it. She playfully thwacked a front paw directly between Rémington's eyes.

Rémington quickly holstered his guns so that he could employ his hands in wrenching Mim off his head, which wasn't an easy task. He held her straight out in front of him for a moment, giving her a scolding glare. "How dare you," he said in a monotone that hid his feelings about the situation for only a moment…before a very slight smirk appeared.

Mim broke the moment by transforming into a hippopotamus.

She didn't feel her foot land on his, and so she wasn't sure it had actually happened. She just knew that next thing, Rémington was stumbling backward, both hands wrapped around his foot, completely vulnerable. Or so he wanted her to think. She was wise to his game. She wasn't about to suddenly drop her mission and ask if he was all right. Besides, she found him rather cute when he was in non-mortal pain. She sighed; it was a pity she had to do this. But she had approached him with a goal in mind. Then again, taking this window was exactly what he wanted her to do. If she really wanted to off him, she would take a way around it. Wait for him to drop the act. Instead, she played right along, morphing back to human form and charging at him, an electric ball of plasma crackling in her hand.

He dropped the act. Click, click. Two pistols pointed right up against Mim's head, the barrels pressing into her violet hair. Her hand, filled with deadly magic, hovering just over his chest, ready to stop his heart. They glared at each other, neither afraid.

"But you're not really going to do it," Rémington said, "are you?"

"Neither are you!" Mim accused.

She withdrew her hand at the exact moment he lowered the pistols. They each took two steps back, regarding each other with interest.

"I haven't had that sort of fun in a while," Rémington revealed with a grin. He thought back to the last time he had felt so exhilarated and nearly giddy: when he was engaged in battle with a certain archer, who, unfortunately for him at the time, had already pledged herself to another true love and was on a quest to save said true love at the moment they met. But even she had lacked spontaneity. "Heh. You put up a good fight, sweet sorcière."

"Don't try and sweet-talk me, you!" Mim snapped. It had been a good fight, though. And she'd completely lost the will to destroy him. "You think you can win me over after I caught you stealing my PURSE?"

Rémington grinned. "I suppose you want me to give it back. It's a pity that for as good of a fight as you put up, you weren't able to hold onto it."

"Neither did you."

"Wha?" Rémington searched himself for the purse only to find it gone. He then felt a long, narrow finger tap him on the shoulder. He spun to see Ragdoll dangling the purse in his face.

"Looking for this?" Ragdoll's smile was almost impossibly wide.

Rémington was about to warn Ragdoll that stealing Mim's purse was like signing a death warrant, but then he remembered: this was the man he'd wondered about being a Xelor among the group of oddly dressed strangers. He was with her. Rémington turned back to Mim. "I see you run with thieves," he observed.

"Thieves, con men, murderers, and usurpers," Mim clarified. "There are the rest of them now."

Rémington looked back behind Ragdoll to make note of Mozenrath, the Huntsman, Roman, Snatcher, Aghoul, Wuya, and Yzma watching him; they'd very obviously been enjoying the show. "You all certainly made an impression tonight," Rémington told them.

Grany had, by this time, made his way down off the roof to hop up on his brother's shoulders. "Don't you dare pick a fight with them," the cat hissed. "You won't win."

"Stealing from us was a pretty bold move," Mozenrath remarked. "You obviously don't know who we are. Which would make sense, since we are new to the World of Twelve and all, but still, I would think someone at least reasonably intelligent could tell that we're powerful enough NOT TO BE MESSED WITH, SO DON'T TRY IT AGAIN, OR YOU'LL HAVE TO DEAL WITH ME NEXT."

Rémington flinched.

"Don't mind his threats," the Huntsman sighed. "He's had far more caffeine than he should have."

"Wait," Rémington said as he shook his head to clear it of all Mozenrath's babble and focus on what mattered. "Did you just say you were new to the World of Twelve?"

Aghoul smacked Mozenrath on the back of the head. "Nice going!"

"It's not like half the bar wasn't on to us anyway," Ragdoll pointed out. "Didn't I hear someone mention to you that you should have known about something very obvious about this world right before you decided to make things fun?"

"What didn't you know about?" Rémington asked.

Roman's perception was still clouded by alcohol, but he knew an opportunity when he saw one. "Time magic. You know somethin'?"

"I might know what you're looking for," Rémington said slyly. "For a price."

"How's this for a price?" Roman suggested. "You tell us what we need to know, and we won't give you a seven-on-one beatdown."

"Nine," the Huntsman corrected.

"Right," Roman said dazedly. "Seven-on-nine. You know Mim only let you live 'causeshewanna, right?"

"I could still kill you," Mim said with a flirtatious wink.

"And I'd love to see you try," Rémington replied coyly.

"Are they…?" Mozenrath asked, confused.

"Definitely flirting," Aghoul confirmed.

"You seem strangely okay with this."

"Mimsie and I have an arrangement. He does seem sufficiently nasty for her. Not as devilishly handsome as I am, but who is?"

"All right," Rémington relented. "You want the Eliacube. A few years ago, it was in the middle of at least two separate catastrophes. One of them involved time travel, if I remember right. It's under lock and key in the Sadida Kingdom, which means it has some of the highest security in the whole world. I wouldn't even try to steal it. Not just with me and Grany, anyway."

"What are we?" one of Rémington's guns asked. "It's NEVER just you and him."

"YOU are tools," Rémington snapped. "Now shut up and let me talk business. What do you need the Eliacube for, exactly?"

"Oh, like we're gonna tell you!" Roman snapped.

"I just thought if I was going to show you the way to the Sadida Kingdom," Rémington stated, "I might as well know what I was helping you achieve."

"Who said you were coming with us?" Mozenrath growled.

"You seem like the toughest customers on the block," Rémington explained. "Running with you only seems natural. However, since you don't know this world well, you would do better with a guide. It's just logical."

"And you're suggesting guiding us to this kingdom free of charge, without stabbing us in the back?" Wuya asked in suspicion.

"The adventure will be worth it," Rémington said.

"It's NEVER just about the adventure with you," Grany sighed. He then informed the others, "He has a crush on your…your…" He looked to Mim, trying to find the word to describe her.

"Mim," Yzma suggested, knowing no better word to label her.

"Yes," Grany confirmed. "A crush on your Mim."

"Well, that only makes sense," Mim said smugly, running a hand through her lavender hair.

"Conference," Mozenrath declared. "WHAM ARMY only."

"Hey, now," Roman argued. "You don't remember anythin'. I got the…the…thingy, remember? You don't call conference. I call conference." He paused. "Conference. WHAM ARMY only."

Roman, Mozenrath, Aghoul, Mim, the Huntsman, Snatcher, Wuya, Yzma, and Ragdoll huddled some distance away from the Smisses. "He is pretty good with a gun," Ragdoll pointed out. "And he was brave enough to steal from us and quick enough to get away for some distance. He might be useful."

"I like him," Mim said, matter-of-fact. "I say we take him along!"

"And how do we know we can trust him?" Yzma hissed. "Even you, Mim! He just spent the past few minutes trying to shoot you!"

"We could always just kill him if he leads us astray," Aghoul suggested. "We're more than a match for him."

"Point," Yzma relented.

"It could be helpful to have someone who knows the lay of the land," the Huntsman said with a nod, "so long as we keep him on a short leash."

Meanwhile, the Smisses were having a conference of their own. "You know if you even put a toe out of line, they'll kill you," Grany warned.

"I know," Rémington told him. "But if I lead them to the Eliacube and help them steal it, I might get a cut of the profits."

"How do you know they're going to sell the cube?"

"What else could they want to do with it?"

"Use it," Grany told him. "The same way what's-his-face did. The Eliatrope with one arm."

"That could work in our favor too," Rémington mused.

"Are you seriously just doing this for one woman?" Grany sighed. "There are other women out there! That one isn't even pretty!"

"She's different," Rémington argued. "I can't really explain it. She was the first since Eva to make me feel so…alive."

"You know what she and Eva had in common? Both of them TRIED TO KILL YOU. Is that what turns you on now?"  
"It just might be," Rémington mused.

"Fine," Grany groaned. "Take the suicide mission."

"You don't have to come if you don't want to."

"Who else is going to make sure you don't get killed, Rémy? Besides, if we do score something good, I want a piece!"

Rémy ruffled the fur on his brother's back. "That's the Grany I know."

The Shushu weapons chimed in: "Are you serious?"  
"We've only just met them."

"This is going to go over about as well as all your OTHER bright ideas."

"When I want your opinions," Rémington snapped, "I'll ask for them."

The conference broke. "We came to a conc…to a clu…we decided," Roman stammered, "you're on the team. You get to take us to the Eliakingdom and show us where the Sadidacube is."

"Is your leader always this articulate?" Rémington teased.

"Is he always this drunk?" Grany added.

"I'm not THAT drunk," Roman insisted. He tried to take a step toward the Smisses, only to trip on his own feet and tumble to the ground.

As Snatcher saw to helping Roman back to his feet, Mozenrath took the lead, stepping forth and offering his right hand. Something in the back of his mind warned him that perhaps providing the hand covered in his most valuable treasure to a thief wasn't the best course of action, and so he switched, offering the left instead. "Welcome aboard," he said. "Whatever your name is."

"Rémington Smisse," Rémington introduced. He first put out his right hand upon instinct, then realized what Mozenrath was doing and clasped Mozenrath's extended hand in his own left. "And you are?"

"I am Mozenrath. I presume you'll tell me more about yourself along the journey."

"I'll tell you about me if you'll tell me about you," Rémington decided.

"As much as I know," Mozenrath sighed. "As much as I know."


	38. Royal Welcomes

A/N: This fic is canon divergent from Voltron: Legendary Defender as of the finale of season 3. I actually put working on this fic on hold until I had seen S3. I was not going to put it on hold through October to get S4.

38\. Royal Welcomes

Roman and Mozenrath stumbled through the streets of the city of Brakmar, lagging far behind their companions. Roman would, every now and again, have to rest his hand against a wall to keep his balance. Mozenrath was bent over in his stride. Neither could stop complaining.

"I have regrets," Roman groaned. "So many regrets."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have drank like a kangaroo that just spent the last year crossing the desert and has only been able to find scant water supplies up until the point of coming upon a vast lake," Yzma retorted.

"THAT'S your analogy?" Aghoul snorted.

"Can we just…stop?" Mozenrath grunted. "This headache is more persistent than a daeva with a grudge." He didn't want to admit it, but he felt as though he might very well fall asleep midstride.

"No," the Huntsman stated. "We've too much work to do. You'll have to fight through what I believe is a caffeine crash."

"And a MASSIVE hangover," Roman added. "Seriously, can't we just stop for a catnap? No offense to Kitty over there."

"That nickname better not stick," Grany muttered.

"We still have to figure out how to invade an entire kingdom and steal one of its most heavily guarded treasures!" Wuya reminded them. "Something I WOULDN'T trust in the hands of you, Roman Torchwick. And speaking of things I don't trust in your hands, you've had that compass for a while. You got us into the city, you found us an ally of dubious trustworthiness…"

Rémington shrugged. He couldn't really complain about that description.

"…and now we know where we're going," Wuya concluded. "You had your turn. Now hand it over."

"All right, all right," Roman sighed, fishing the compass out of a pocket. "It's somebody else's turn to be in charge. And I nominate the second best person for the job after me."

Yzma and Wuya immediately held out their hands to receive the compass.

"You don't seem to have been paying attention up to this point," the Huntsman chided them as Roman staggered past them to shove the compass at Snatcher.

"I am most honored, Torchwick," Snatcher stated as he pocketed the compass. "As it happens, a plan is formulating in my mind. We COULD force our way into the walls of this…plant kingdom." Rémington had briefed them all on the basics about the Sadida people. "Or…we could be INVITED in. I'm certain we can come up with all of the trappings of diplomats from the other side of the world."

"You could claim to be Cra," Rémington suggested. "The redhead has the ears for it."

"Is that a compliment?" Wuya asked.

"It depends on the Cra," Rémington replied.

"Which kingdom could we all CONVINCINGLY call home?" Snatcher asked.

"Eh…looking at all of you…none," Rémington observed.

"A coalition, then," Snatcher decided, "of peace-seekers from several kingdoms, looking for Sadida to join the cause! The cause of…of…Mr. Smisse, what DO they care about in this world?"  
"Protecting dragons," Rémington answered without missing a beat.

The Huntsman visibly flinched.

"Then a dragon rights activist group we shall become!" Snatcher decided. "And a wealthy, influential one at that. Miss Wuya, I'm certain you can provide. We shall need vehicles! Forged royal endorsements! And of course, we shall need to dress the part. I am well aware that here, we are as of yet unknown. The people of this world have no need to fear our faces or names. All the same, as a protective measure – "

"You're going to make us all dress in drag, aren't you?" Aghoul sighed.

"I was going to heavily suggest it," Snatcher corrected. "It is of course entirely optional. I will be leading the charge as Madame Penelope Frou Frou."

"Count Fiammetta Incandescent in on this," Roman said immediately.

"I guess I don't see why not," Mozenrath added. "Is this something I would normally object to?"

"No," Snatcher said altogether too quickly. "Not in the slightest. Now, we need to get inside the gates and speak with whatever passes for a ruler among the plant people. See if we can't get him to reminisce about the conflict that led to the storing of the Eliacube. Once we know where it's stored, if we can't talk his majesty into letting us view it ourselves, I'm certain our more thievery-inclined compatriots will have no trouble liberating it."

"I like the sounds of that," Ragdoll commented.

"Mr. Smisse," Snatcher asked, "where in this city might we make our machinations in peace? There will be a fair bit of magic involved, and we can't risk prying eyes."

"Then you'll want to get out of the city," Grany answered.

"He was talking to me," Rémington argued.

"We're BOTH Mr. Smisse!" Grany retorted.

"Anyway, you'll want to get out of the city," Rémington continued.

"That's what I just said!" Grany huffed.

"Now hold on," Wuya said. "I never agreed to all of this. Maybe I'm sick of you calling on me for every little thing you could do without magic. Vehicles, I'll do. But I'm not wasting energy on clothes if we can find them in the city. And couldn't most of us swap genders with that transfiguration potion we saw on the way in?"

"Absolutely cheating," Snatcher remarked. "We're going to do this properly. There will be no transfiguration – "

"Not even this?" Mim spun a series of pirouettes, cackling madly. Her voice deepened as she did so, and when she came to a halt, she had swapped the body of a short, plump woman out for a short, plump man.

"Are you still into THAT?" Grany whispered to Rémington.

"Actually, yes," Rémington answered, to Grany's bafflement.

"CHEATING," Snatcher accused, pointing at Mim.

"And what are you going to do about it?" Mim asked. "Complain?"

"That is EXACTLY what I am going to do about it!" Snatcher growled.

"Complain all you want," Mim replied; "I'm not changing back."

"Brothers Smisse," Snatcher sighed, "change of plans. Direct us to wherever we may purchase the appropriate clothing for a covert operation. You will need to work with Torchwick and Mr. Merkel to procure the necessary funds, which will add up to quite a sum."

"Ragdoll," Ragdoll interrupted. "We're on a job, so it's 'Ragdoll.' Please."

"Madam Mim," Snatcher went on, "you…can think about the fact that you're still cheating."

"I believe the name is now 'Mister Jim,'" Mim corrected.

"If you want a shopping district, take the next left," Grany stated.

"You heard the man," Rémington reiterated. "We have pockets to pick. I bet Grany and I can come up with more money than both of you."

"You're on," Roman challenged. "I'll get TWICE what you get."

"With a hangover like that?" Yzma chided.

"We'll see how it all comes out in the wash," Ragdoll said cryptically.

"Of course," Snatcher mused, "should this plan go belly-up at the critical stages, we should be at the ready to simply burn the entire forest down and take what we want by force. These plant people, they're subhuman. It should be of little trouble to subdue them all."

"Suggestion," Roman interrupted. "Can we just START by burning the forest down and skip the charade?"

"Hmm…tempting," Snatcher mulled over, "but no."

"Having them take care of their own clothes will be a relief," Wuya admitted quietly to Yzma. "Zapping up everything everyone wants at the drop of a hat gets tiring."

Yzma nodded in agreement, trying not to think too hard about all the requests she herself had made of Wuya. "A sentiment I'm sure Xayide is sharing right about now."

"I wonder if the others have made her snap yet," Wuya mused.

"She's a sensible woman," Yzma replied. "She isn't going to snap."

...

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!" Xayide screamed, storming away from Snipe as quickly as nonmagically possible; she could feel an unbidden twitch coming to her eye.

"Aw, c'mon!" Snipe begged, following. "Just one time!"

"One time will turn into just twice, and then into weekly, then daily," Xayide growled, not dignifying Snipe by turning around to face him. "And I am NOT wasting my magic on washing your RANCID socks and underthings!"

"I don't even WANT them washed more than once a week!" Snipe argued.

"That was an argument against the proposition more than anything," Xayide huffed.

A sudden harsh noise pierced the air: someone was attempting to use the warship's PA system, which, given the Cyclonian militarism, had been built to sound throughout the whole Terra. "Testing," Vexen's voice resonated, filling every room. "Testing…good. Will every inhabitant of this ship report to the control room AT ONCE? There is an urgent matter that MUST be discussed IMMEDIATELY."

"Immediately, hm?" Xayide repeated.

"Zap us both there right now!" Snipe ordered.

"You're a strong-looking man," Xayide replied. "A few flights of stairs should be no trouble for you." She vanished before Snipe's eyes, leaving him to take the long way.

Xayide and Irmaplotz were the first to appear in the control room, having utilized magic to get there; Vexen awaited them without so much as a greeting.

"Where's the fire?" Irmaplotz asked casually.

"I shall explain once we are all assembled," Vexen said sharply.

Neo, Ravess, Snipe, and Garfield eventually found their way into the room. "You!" Snipe yelled, pointing at Xayide. "You're mean!"

"We're all mean," Irmaplotz reminded him. "We are an evil organization bent on multi-world domination."

"What did my brother do to offend you now?" Ravess sighed. "I would apologize for it, but I would rather not associate myself with his actions in any way."

"I am not his maid," Xayide said through gritted teeth.

"Ravess, hear me out!" Snipe begged. "All I asked was for one little – "

Ravess didn't wait for the end of the sentence; she simply smacked Snipe on the back of the head.

"OW!" Snipe grunted.

"So, uh, apparently there was some kind of problem you needed us for?" Garfield asked, hoping to end the conversation about Snipe.

"Yes," Vexen stated. "If I could have your attention."

All looked to him.

"This ship has thus far been powered by a crystal," Vexen explained. "One that I understand it took some effort to procure. This crystal powers several systems onboard the ship: most importantly, the control. We are in a stationary position at the moment; if control is lost, we will lose the ability to halt this ship from drifting. Unfortunately, the crystal we acquired for this ship was not built for inter-world sustenance, and it is, as we speak – "

The lights flickered on and off to prove Vexen's point.

"…Failing," Vexen said flatly.

"So what?" Garfield asked. "Roman said most of the weapons and stuff are powered by smaller crystals anyway."

"We haven't truly been piloting the ship anywhere," Ravess added. "What does it matter if we lose control?"

"I had thought you might ask," Vexen said, removing a tiny crystal from his pocket. He turned and placed it into a device that in turn projected an immense hologram in the shape of a map of interspace, marking the location of the warship as a glow of red amid a field of green. "You see where we are," Vexen began. He pointed to a swirling image that was quite far away, but not far enough, given the scope of the map. "This is a black hole that destroys all that enters. We are out of its range at the moment, but note the proximity." He pointed to a cluster of small blips in a different direction. "This is a field of tightly packed interspacial debris – one might liken it to 'asteroids' – that would tear our ship apart if we attempted to pass through." He pointed to a third direction. "This space seems to be occupied by an old world, long dead. I have taken readings, and as best as I can tell from this distance, it is moments away from its main celestial body simply exploding and creating the effect of a supernova."

"And WHY are we parked so close to all of these dangerous things?" Ravess sighed.

"The point is," Vexen went on, "given a loss of control and our ability to remain stable, we run the risk of drifting into any of these phenomena. At best, the ship would be torn to pieces after our evacuation. At worst, we would find ourselves without the time to evacuate."

"So we move the ship," Irmaplotz suggested.

"Not a possibility," Vexen replied. "Doing so would put far too much of a strain on the already failing crystal, and given that we would pass by at least one of the aforementioned dangers on our way to safety, we would inevitably find ourselves in the worst-case scenario: no time to evacuate."

"Easy," Garfield chimed in. "We just have Xayide juice the thing back up with magic."

"IF YOU THINK," Xayide practically screamed, "THAT I AM ABOUT TO WASTE THAT MUCH OF MY ENERGY ON THIS SHIP – "

"SILENCE!" Vexen barked.

Xayide glared at Garfield in the absence of words, her red and green eye each boring into his soul separately.

"Xayide is correct," Vexen explained. "To have her restore the crystal would require her to pour a constant stream of magic into it: a task that would cause Xayide herself to fail almost as quickly as the crystal. I understand, Garfield, that you come from a world where you are not used to magic as we know it. How is it, then, that you have already become overly reliant on magic? It is not to simply be wasted on tasks either too menial or too arduous to complete. That is why I only use my own power when I deem it absolutely necessary."

Xayide stood up a little straighter, casting her glance around the room. Garfield appeared miffed, but he had backed down. Xayide could only hope that Vexen's words had instilled a small bit of reprehension in the others for having asked so much of her.

"There is only one solution to our current dilemma," Vexen stated. "We must replace the crystal. We require a far more potent power source, and I know just the thing. There is a world known colloquially as Galra Space thanks to the race that has completely conquered it, and within this space, there resides a creature as large as a planet: the Balmera. Its secretions crystallize into stones powerful enough to support a warship of this size through interspace. We must travel there and collect the largest crystal we can acquire."

"Field trip," Irmaplotz commented with a smile. "Nice."

Neo nodded fervently in agreement.

"I'm down," Garfield agreed.

"If it will save me from having to pour my energy into a dying crystal," Xayide said coldly, "I am all in favor of this trip."

"Will there be stuff to bash?" Snipe asked.

"We will most certainly be met with resistance," Vexen informed him. "The Balmera is inhabited by a race that will not take kindly to us doing what looks to them like outright thievery of their crystals. I believe the Galra themselves have made a settlement there, and as much as their lust for conquest mirrors our own, I do not believe they will see us as kindred spirits once they realize we are taking what they believe belongs to them by right."

"So I get to bash 'em," Snipe reiterated.

"YES, brother," Ravess sighed. "You WILL get to bash the opposition with your mace."

"YEAH!" Snipe roared.

"And you, Ravess?" Vexen fixed an interested gaze upon the archer.

"Me?" Ravess gestured to herself. "Well, why wouldn't I come along? I hardly want this ship to be torn apart. It's the only home I've ever known. And I do trust in your leadership, Vexen."

"As I trust in your collaboration," Vexen replied, and there was a shared look between them that lingered perhaps a bit more than normally would have between two professional co-workers. It passed, and it went unnoticed by any of the others present. "Without further ado," Vexen said suddenly, tearing his gaze away from Ravess' eyes, "we shall go." He cast a Corridor of Darkness. "Follow me. And be prompt or be left behind."

He strode confidently through the portal. Ravess quickened her pace to be the first to follow. After her went Xayide, then Irmaplotz, Neo, Garfield, and finally Snipe. When the Corridor closed, the warship was left empty.

...

Mozenrath wandered through a veritable forest of gowns and glitter, casually glancing around for something he could see himself wearing for the sake of the charade. The Smisses had found the group a sizeable shop that stocked fashion, though given Brakmar's reputation, it was reasonable to think the majority of the clientele was there, much like the WHAM ARMY, to find disguises. Mozenrath was unsure exactly what he sought. Nothing in particular seemed to him the sort of thing a female dragon rights activist would wear. Nothing in particular seemed to him the sort of thing he, Mozenrath, would wear.

But the show had to go on, so he plucked three items off the racks at random, hoping to find something that would allow him to get this phase of the plan over with. He breezed toward the fitting room only for Snatcher to step into his path.

"Ah, ah," Snatcher chided. "You're not planning on wearing any of THOSE, are you now?"

"Is…there a problem?" Mozenrath glanced back and forth between Snatcher's countenance of disapproval and his fabric bounty.

Snatcher ripped one dress out of Mozenrath's hands. "This is not your color." The second. "This won't flatter your figure." The third. "And this – " Snatcher stopped to give the last dress a glare of utter disgust. "Lord Mozenrath. I MUST question your taste. No one with any sense at all would give THIS ensemble a second look. Not quite sure who would even have made it to begin with."

"All right," Mozenrath sighed, "what do YOU think I should wear?"

"As much as I endorse a good swapping of the palette," Snatcher mused, "I don't see why you should divert from your traditional royal blue. I passed something a while back that should more than suffice…" Muttering to himself, he turned and stalked down the aisles, Mozenrath in tow. At last, he found his treasure, pulling a deep blue gown with a billowing skirt from the rack. "And there you are," he announced, shoving the dress at Mozenrath.

"I…guess I'll go put this on," Mozenrath said doubtfully, taking the gown to the fitting rooms, which were small alcoves separated from the rest of the shop by thin curtains.

As Mozenrath entered, Yzma exited a fitting room, clad in a nearly form-fitting gown covered in pink sequins. "Well?" she asked with a wide smile. "What do you think?"

"I think I asked you to dress as a man," Snatcher snorted.

"And I think I'm leaving that to Mim," Yzma told him. "You said it yourself! Nobody here knows who we are! The drag is just for fun! And I am not lowering myself to TROUSERS."

"You wouldn't look bad in them," Wuya commented from where she had been leaning against a wall. "All the same, I understand the sentiment."

"Miss Wuya," Snatcher cajoled, "you would make quite the dashing gentleman. What stands in your way?"

"If I play the part," Wuya asked, "how much of my hair to I get to keep?"

"Well…er…very little, compared to – "

"Then I'm not being a man," Wuya resolved. "Though a change of clothes would be quite fun." She reached out to the nearest rack, running her hand over a gown of purple velvet with a plunging neckline. "Yes…this will do."

"At least tell me you have alternate names selected for yourselves," Snatcher sighed.

"Hmm…false names," Wuya mused. "What do you think, Yzma?"

"Well, I used 'Amzy' once," Yzma recalled. "It could become a standby."

"You said you would never use that name again," the Huntsman's voice sounded from among racks of suits.

"Well, do YOU have any better ideas?" Yzma asked. "I'll be Amzy, and Wuya can be…Ayu."

Wuya shrugged. "I'll take it."

Mozenrath emerged from the fitting room, his hair loose and cascading down over his shoulders. He moved slowly, letting the skirt of his new costume billow about him.

"So?" Yzma asked. "What do you think?"

Mozenrath caught sight of himself in the nearest full-length mirror. "I think…" He smiled at his reflection. "I think I like this plan better than I thought I would."

"This isn't even the finished product," Snatcher reminded him. "We've still your makeup to attend to."

"And your hair!" Yzma crowed. "I call dibs on doing his hair."

"I'm…actually looking forward to this," Mozenrath said gleefully, giving a twirl to watch his skirt spin.

From the next fitting room over, a voice sounded out: "And, making her grand re-entry into the spotlight, I give you…" Roman flung the curtain aside to reveal himself decked out in a ruffly white gown with a snow-colored wig curled atop his head to match. "Fiammetta Incandescent!"

"And, making her debut…" Rémington slid aside his own curtain, emerging in a black gown with a high neckline over a bust line that had been padded out to levels far past believable; a raven wig tied into a waist-length braid swung around him. "Katana Scimitar."

"Two things, Mr. Smisse," Snatcher groaned. "First, the beard ruins the entire look."

Rémington clutched at his chin protectively. "You're not suggesting I…"

"Yes, Mr. Smisse," Snatcher insisted. "If you wish to be convincing, the beard must go."

"You could always just not do the drag," Wuya commented.

Rémington thought it over. "…Eh, worth it." He plucked a dagger from the folds of his dress and gave his small beard one rather messy chop that left the floor littered in hair.

"We'll trim it up in the final stages," Snatcher stated.

"And what was the other thing?" Rémington asked.

Snatcher gestured to his own chest area. "No woman of your stature is nearly THAT well-endowed."

"I'm starting to think you're just trying to ruin my fun," Rémington grumbled. "I suppose you can get away with more, since you're so – "

"WATCH IT," Roman growled.

"I actually prefer not to pad at all," Snatcher said casually, "and to this day, no one's commented."

"I am in complete sympathy with you in regards to your lost beard," Aghoul told Rémington as he found his way out of the maze of clothing, clutching a lavender dress with flowing sleeves. "Mine was burned off, and incredibly disrespectfully so." He gave Mozenrath a meaningful glare.

"…I did this?" Mozenrath replied. "Because, as you know, I have no memory of this if I did."

Aghoul gave a dismissive "Hmph" before heading into the fitting room Roman had previously occupied with his gown. Wuya took over the room Rémington had abandoned in order to don hers.

"And what about me?" Grany asked. "You're not going to put me in any silly clothes, are you?"

"Not unless you want a big, fluffy pink bow," Rémington said slyly.

Grany bristled. "Anything but that!"

"All you have to do is not talk," Rémington reassured his brother. "We'll call you…Honey Crisp. No one will know the difference."

The Huntsman made his presence known, carrying a gray suit jacket and pant. "You're NOT serious," Snatcher groaned. "We are trying to make an IMPRESSION. You seem to have made it your mission to select the absolute most boring pieces of clothing in the entire shop."

"I have found what works for me," the Huntsman stated. "In my experience, disguises are used to blend in, not stand out."

"Well, blending in doesn't get you invited into the royals' inner circle!" Snatcher argued.

"Nor will the skull of the creatures we are supposedly protecting," the Huntsman reminded Snatcher. "Let me dress as I wish, and I shall do the same for you."

"Fair enough," Snatcher resolved.

"Where are we to keep our previous clothing?" the Huntsman asked.

"Madam Mim has volunteered to keep it all inside of her purse," Snatcher informed him. "…Where is Mim, anyhow?"

"Right here!" Mim crowed; she hadn't had to worry about shopping for clothes, as she had chosen to transfigure them along with her body, and wore a smart red shirt over lavender trousers.

"Where were you just now?" Roman asked.

"Sabotaging the men's bathroom," Mim cackled.

"It's the men's room," Rémington told her. "I don't see what more you could have done to it than there already was."

"If the staff doesn't figure out how much of the plumbing I diverted," Mim said hushedly, "we only have an hour left in this shop before the entire place floods."

"Then we'd best hurry to the next phase," Snatcher counseled. "Let's see. That's everyone accounted for except for…"

Peter came spinning like a tornado out of his own fitting room, coming to an abrupt halt, letting the long golden locks of the wig he'd chosen fall half in front of his face. His dress of choice was silver, shimmering, and incredibly short. "Were you about to ask about me?" he said teasingly.

"He has nicer legs than you, Roman," Yzma pointed out.

"NO, HE DOESN'T," Roman said altogether too defensively.

"And you, Archie?" Peter asked.

"DON'T call me that," Snatcher growled.

"Then don't call me 'Mr. Merkel' when I'm on a job," Peter replied, not losing his smile even for a moment. "Well? What are you wearing?"  
"I've had my eye on a certain number in this shop for a while," Snatcher admitted. "I had to get the rest of you settled first." He turned to look at a confection of pink ruffles wrapped around a mannequin that was proportionate to his own dimensions. "Pink isn't normally my best color, but I've a good feeling about that one."

Once all were dressed in their chosen fashions, they hustled toward the cosmetics section of the shop. On the way, Snatcher quizzed them: "Are we all settled on aliases? I, of course, shall be Madame Frou Frou. We have Mad Mister Jim, Katana Scimitar, Honey Crisp, Fiammetta Incandescent, Amzy, Ayu, and…?"  
"Hunter Thorn," the Huntsman said. "As before."

"Are you sure that isn't your actual name?" Aghoul asked.

The Huntsman said "Absolutely sure" at the same time that Yzma said "Of course it isn't."

"That's right," the Huntsman said sourly. "You were listening."

"I won't tell," Yzma promised. "Pinky swear." She put out her little finger.

The Huntsman simply gave her hand a glance. "I'll take your word for it."

"Who did you ACTUALLY tell your name?" Mozenrath asked.

Somehow, the Huntsman found he had a hard time telling the truth. "That is between me and the person I entrusted with it."

"But that's – " Yzma tried to interrupt.

"NOT NOW," the Huntsman growled threateningly.

"I'll be Ghoulia!" Aghoul crowed, his new lavender ensemble offset by a jet-black wig teased into an updo.

"Because what else would you be?" Roman muttered.

"Have you forgotten about Sarah Smiles already?" Peter teased.

"And that just leaves…" Snatcher gave Mozenrath a pointed look.

"I'm thinking on it," Mozenrath said defensively.

"The alias is important," Snatcher emphasized. "It has to be one you can not only remember, but conceivably BE. It has to fit even better than the ensemble."

"Look, I already couldn't figure out how to pick out a dress," Mozenrath replied. "Why can't you just pick out my name, since you're so good at it!"

"Because…I can't believe I have to say this…it MUST come from the heart, or you won't believe you're being the part!" Snatcher groaned. "Which reminds me, it's not too late to change 'Amzy' or 'Ayu.'"

"I'm attached to it now," Wuya argued.

"'Amzy' was going to be all I could think of anyway," Yzma added.

They reached the cosmetics, at which point the group opened up whatever tubes of lipstick and containers of eye shadow and blush they thought would accent their clothing well.

"ExCUSE me!" A muscular salesman stormed toward the dolled-up miscreants. "In this store, we pay for things before we just start putting them on! Do I have to teach you this the hard w – "

Peter, Rémington, and Roman each held out a handful of kamas. "The stuff's paid for," Roman emphasized.

The salesman seemed satisfied as he swept the coins into hand. "Carry on."

Mozenrath found himself shoved into a chair as Snatcher began dusting makeup over his face and Yzma teased his hair atop his head. "All right," Mozenrath said as he shut his eyes in order to allow Snatcher access to lining them. "I know that the great Archibald Snatcher is a connoisseur of fashion. What else should I know about you? You seem plentifully take-charge. I'm guessing you were in a position of some power before joining us?"

"Sadly not," Snatcher replied, carefully tracing out the contours of Mozenrath's eyelids, mindful to not be as deliberate as he had been when fixing up Roman's face. "The opposite, in fact. I was on the road to power before I met you lot. I had it all lined up. Then the Lord of the Dead's hand slipped, and I found myself behind even square one."

"That's unfortunate," Mozenrath commented.

"Shame, really," Snatcher lamented. "I was the only one in town who'd actually worked for power. And yet they relegated me to the working class. Shut down at nearly every opportunity! And who occupied the throne, so to speak? The lucky ones who'd never lifted a finger in their lives! The ones who had everything handed to them on a silver platter! And all the while, I worked down to the bone! Yes, at times it was painful, but it was worth it."

Something in Snatcher's words stirred deep within Mozenrath: it was a sentiment he shared, though he couldn't exactly say why. The thought of someone ending up with power that Mozenrath had rightly worked for because that someone had merely stumbled into good fortune was enough to make Mozenrath's fist clench. He wished to say as much, but as he opened his mouth, Snatcher quickly told him "Hush, now" and began to paint his lips.

"I was willing to sacrifice, I was," Snatcher carried on. "To have a station in society, to be able to command, to be LISTENED to…well, I was just about willing to die for it. Not that…anything about the position would have killed me, mind you. Just an expression. But WERE there anything in my way, I was prepared to weather it."

Mozenrath realized he had been wondering what exactly Roman saw in Snatcher all this time, and he had his questions answered right then. This man, he knew, was a kindred spirit to him. The lipstick gave his mouth a reprieve, long enough for him to say, "I think I know exactly how you feel."

"Not surprised," Snatcher admitted. He gave Mozenrath a brief clap on the shoulder. "Your face is finished."

"And your hair is just…about…" Yzma pinned a final curl into place. "Done!"

Mozenrath opened his eyes, turning to look in the nearest mirror. The effeminate face that stared back beneath neatly coiffed locks was hardly recognizable and absolutely gorgeous.

"It's still missing something," Yzma muttered. "What is it? A ribbon?"

"That would make it altogether too busy," Snatcher rebuked.

"I know what it is," Wuya announced, walking over from where she had finished beautifying Aghoul to the best of her ability. "I know I said no magic, but you get it just this ONCE."

She passed her hand over Mozenrath's hair, and it was graced with a sprig of tiny flowers in a blue that matched Mozenrath's dress.

"Those are nice," Mozenrath complimented. "What are they?"

"I don't know," Wuya admitted. "I just conjured up a flower I thought would look nice."

"Really, now!" Mim chided. "Any reasonable witch would recognize a flower in the genus Brandisia!"

"Brandisia," Mozenrath repeated, testing out the word. Something about it felt quite delicious on his tongue. "Well, Mr. Snatcher, good news. I think I have my alias. You can refer to me as 'Brandisia.'"

"Excellent," Snatcher said as he settled a almost silver-blonde wig atop his head, tucking away his meager dark hair. "Now, I suggest we get a move on before Mim's little plumbing stunt kicks in."

They dumped all their stolen kamas onto the counter and booked it, and not a moment too soon, for that was when every toilet began to spew up sewage.

...

In a twinkle, Xerxes found himself surrounded not by the shadows and spotless surfaces of Vexen's half of the laboratory but instead floating in midair beneath a warm and sunny blue sky, heat radiating down from above and highlighting the brightness of the surrounding greenery.

Xerxes was confused, first and foremost. He hadn't yet made the connection between his leap and the star shard. It took a moment for him to even realize he was no longer in the base. Finally, he admitted it to himself: he was nowhere near home.

He refused to let go of the shard. It was his treasure, and now it was the only thing he had – besides his collar – that was connected to the place from which he had come. He wondered: would Mozenrath know he was missing? Would anyone? Would anyone take steps to bring him back?

His stomach rumbled. He hadn't had anything to eat in quite some time, and realized he was hankering for food. He began a drift through the trees that surrounded him, and his internal worry about suddenly being so far from home was somewhat alleviated by the comforting warmth of the climate.

The trees gave way to a clearing, and Xerxes could see a spacious village teeming with life. People were taking advantage of the outdoor warmth to do all sorts of tasks outside, from cooking food over fires to weaving baskets to dancing in rhythm. Copses of tall trees encroached upon the village, and within these, the people were climbing, harvesting coconuts and bringing them down to store.

Xerxes' stomach bubbled again, making him very seriously consider the coconut.

He zipped into the nearest grove, setting down the star shard only momentarily. The harvesters, upon seeing a flying eel with a wicked grin enter their domain while making noises that could only be malicious laughter, were sent into a screaming panic:

"WHAT IS THAT?"  
"IT'S A MONSTER!"

"GET IT AWAY!"

As the people retreated, Xerxes dug his teeth into the nearest coconut, ripping it open so he could drink its contents.

The fracas had not gone unnoticed by a certain high-ranking member of the village: a young woman with long, dark hair, clad in red and creamy off-white. Upon hearing screams of a monster, she targeted the eel with her eyes. This wasn't her first monster, and it was far from the largest she'd faced. She took up a rowing oar that had been propped against a wall and barged toward the creature.

As Xerxes tore into the meat of the coconut, he was suddenly broadsided by the flat of the oar; he tumbled across the grass. "GET OUT OF OUR GROVE!" the young woman demanded, swatting at him with the oar again; Xerxes quickly darted away before he could be crushed by it. As he flew past the young woman, she followed him, striking out again with a grunt of exertion. Xerxes quickly ducked to pick up the star shard and get out of dodge as quickly as he could. Clearly, the coconuts of this village were not meant to be his bounty.

Searching for a place to hide, Xerxes made note of a cavern mouth in a hillside, and, thinking the darkness would be adequate to conceal him, he hurried inside.

He did not expect the cavern to already be occupied, and by others who were not native to this world, no less.

Only a few moments before Xerxes' intrusion, Grimhilde and the Dark Ace had taken refuge deep within the cavern. Beyond its rocky mouth, it gave way to sand that bumped up against the ocean water; the far wall was the roaring cascade of a waterfall, and beyond that was access to the open sea. Beached on the sand were all manner of boats, from small canoes to ships practically big enough to carry the entire village's population. It was among these boats that Grimhilde and the Dark Ace escorted a bound-up Xander.

"Listen," Xander was attempting, "I think we all just got off on the wrong foot. All a big misunderstanding. I'm sure if we sat down and talked it out, we'd see that there's no need to have me captured and tied up. If you want something from me, just ask!"

"What I require," Grimhilde told him, "is your heart."

"Sorry to disappoint you," Xander replied, "but I'm not really interested. I can see how you'd fancy me, though. Don't worry. I'm sure there's someone out there for you – "

"She means literally," the Dark Ace said smugly.

"I must tear it out," Grimhilde explained, "and destroy it."

"…Oh," Xander replied, deflating. "I, er…I can't really let you have that."

"You have no choice," Grimhilde reminded him.

"Not that I want to have my heart crushed anytime soon," Xander inquired, "but…why haven't you done it already?"

"Your heart is but one of two I need," Grimhilde explained. "I must have the hearts of two of the Fairest of All, each a different gender. They must be destroyed at the exact same moment in order for the spell I am casting to take effect. There are numerous other preparations as well. We shall take you to one of the remote islands of this world and set the beginning of the spell into motion. As for the other heart…she resides here, on this very island. We will return to collect her shortly."

Xander wondered fervently if there was any way out of his predicament, and, as a matter of course, if there was any way he could find and save this other "Fairest of All" before Grimhilde could sink claws into her. Yet he had nothing to offer in reply to the Dark Ace prodding him lightly in the back with his superheated blade, forcing him to board a canoe at which Grimhilde rode in the helm.

Diablo circled the cavern, cawing as he surveyed, pleased to watch one of his mistress' many enemies subdued by two of her loyal assistants. He gave a caw that was more like a low cackle.

That was when Xerxes sped into the cave. The eel needed only one look at Grimhilde, the Dark Ace, and Xander to know that his hiding place was not away from prying eyes after all. He didn't have to recognize any of the people or assess their situation in order to know he would be seen.

Yet it was not Grimhilde, the Dark Ace, or Xander who noticed Xerxes. It was Diablo. And as it happened, the raven still remembered the eel as being at Mozenrath's side when Mozenrath had made his first appeal to Maleficent: the moment he had marked himself as a target through his disrespect to the Mistress of All Evil. Xerxes, for his part, did not notice Diablo; the raven was hidden in the shadows of the cave, and his black feathers camouflaged him perfectly.

Xerxes simply sped through to the other end of the cave, clutching the star shard tightly between his jaws as he burst through the waterfall. Diablo ceased his cawing and silently followed, determined to track down Mozenrath's familiar to the point where he could finally rid existence of the pest.

"The raven has gone silent," the Dark Ace commented as he prepared to shove the canoe out to sea.

"Diablo goes where he pleases, when he pleases," Grimhilde explained. "He will return when he sees fit. Now send us on our way."

"At once," the Dark Ace vowed, and the canoe floated out onto the water, through the waterfall unnoticed, out onto a wide, open sea.

A sea over which Xerxes was flitting at top speed, unknowing of Diablo only a few yards behind.

...

At the edge of Brakmar, Mozenrath, Snatcher, Roman, the Huntsman, Wuya, Yzma, Aghoul, Mim, Peter, Rémington, and Grany assembled around the place Wuya had chosen to create the transportation needed.

"I think I'll go with something…sporty." She flicked her hands outward, and a bright red convertible, stretched out with enough seats to fit ten people and one Bow Meow, materialized. "Well?"

"I don't even know what that is," Rémington told her. "It's going to get questions asked about it."

"How do most people travel around here?" Wuya asked.

"Well, we do have vehicles with wheels that are sort of like that," Rémington informed her, "but less…polished."

"Talk me through it," Wuya commanded.

"Can I keep this one to sell later?" Rémington asked.

"No," Wuya said flatly.

It took some time for Rémington to describe the right type of vehicle needed; Wuya reworked the car into a trolley similar to Ruel's.

"Does anyone need a bathroom break before we go?" Yzma asked.

Mim put up a hand.

"I mean to actually use the bathroom," Yzma clarified. "Not sabotage the pipes."

The hand went down.

"And you, Mozenrath?" Yzma asked. "How's the caffeine crash?"  
"I'm fine," Mozenrath grunted in response.

"And your hangover?" Wuya asked Roman.

"Geez!" Roman groaned. "When did you two become our moms?"

"Mom?" Yzma repeated. "Who said anything about being a mom? I'm not a mom!"

"Do I look like I want to spend my time taking care of the rest of you?" Wuya added. "Now, get in the car. No fighting, and if you have to ask if we're there yet, we aren't."

The Huntsman took the wheel; Roman and Snatcher both bid for it, but were shut down. The journey took the crew over all sorts of terrain. Peter made sure to ask if they were "there yet" every fifteen minutes or so, just to aggravate the Huntsman. When the conversation wasn't dominated by Peter testing everyone's limits to not throw him out of the vehicle, Rémington and Grany briefed the others on a light history of the World of Twelve and what they would need to know in order to be convincing. At last, the trolley rolled through a thick forest, with wooden buildings cropping up in between the trees to forge a town. The people, all of dark complexion with hair the bright green color of leaves – and, in the case of the adult males, sporting this hair in such a way that it covered their faces in entirety – all turned to give a gaze of curiosity to the passing trolley.

"Now, remember, brothers Smisse," Snatcher said quietly, so as not to risk his natural voice being heard by anyone in the vicinity, "most of us have very little to lose if our disguises are seen through. However, the two of you have a reputation. If you're found out, it's over for all of us. Whatever you do, DON'T drop the act."

"We get it," Rémington told Snatcher.

"We're not – " Grany began, but Rémington nudged him rather hard with a toe.

"You don't talk," he emphasized, "remember?"

Grany nodded, slightly miffed.

The trolley pulled up to the tallest tree in the forest; several guards, of an obviously different race from the townspeople given their light complexion, fair hair, and pointed ears, approached with bows in hand. "Who goes there?" one of them demanded.

"A coalition devoted to the protection of dragons," the Huntsman answered through the driver's seat window. "We wish to speak with your king."

"What makes you think you deserve an audience with him?" a guard asked roughly.

"We have received news," the Huntsman stated heavily, "that the dragon Phaerys may be in mortal danger, and we wish to prevent this from taking place."

The guards whispered among each other; the Huntsman caught the words "Phaerys," "Adal," and "Sufokia." At last, the guard who had addressed the Huntsman demanded, "Disembark from your vehicle. You will enter the throne room accompanied."

"As you wish," the Huntsman replied, shifting to leave the driver's seat. The door opened, and the entourage began to file out.

The guards were sent into another flurry of whispering, this time related to how this strange collection of visitors was mostly comprised of highly beautiful women. Surrounded by the Cra guards, the eleven were escorted into the tree and shown into the throne room.

The entire chamber was bathed in a soft sea-green glow, dimly lit. Wooden planks formed a walking path through an otherwise grassy floor. At the center, the wooden throne was elevated, situated upon a tiny patch of earth surrounded by a ring of water. Upon this throne, the king was positioned: a tall, broad man whose green hair all but obscured his face, twisting out into an elaborate beard. To one side of his throne stood a younger Sadida man, shirtless but clad in a red cloth that hung between his legs, both front and back, and played at touching the floor. To the other, a young Sadida woman with a smug expression wore a gown of red and a headdress fashioned in the shape of two wooden antlers.

"His Majesty, King Oakheart Sheran," the Cra guard introduced. "Your Highness, we came upon these…strangers attempting to enter the palace grounds. They say they bring bad tidings regarding the safety of Phaerys."

"Let me hear what they have to say," Oakheart demanded.

Snatcher knew his cue. "Your Highness," he began, putting on his sweetest and highest voice while giving a deep curtsy. "It is a pleasure to meet you, indeed. You are far more handsome than the gossip suggested. I may very well swoon."

Oakheart grunted; he knew flattery when he heard it, but that didn't mean he didn't enjoy it. "Who are you?" he asked.

"Moi?" Snatcher placed a hand delicately over his heart. "Madame Penelope Frou Frou. I come with my faithful traveling companions: Fiammetta Incandescent, Brandisia Black, Lady Amzy, Lady Ayu, Hunter Thorn, Sarah Smiles, Katana Scimitar…" He sighed. "Jim…" A deeper sigh. "And…Ghoulia." He quickly regained composure.

"And the Bow Meow?" Oakheart asked.

"A mascot of sorts," Snatcher explained. "We call her Honey Crisp."

The young woman's expression grew rather serious. Snatcher could tell she found something about the situation familiar, but wasn't quite able to name the problem.

"We come from many nations," Snatcher explained, "from Cra – " He gestured to Wuya. "And Iop – " Now the Huntsman. "And beyond. We have collaborated with a single purpose: to protect the dragons of this world. We have heard whispers of a rival faction wishing to exterminate Phaerys, the poor dear, and are amassing numbers to investigate the matter and prevent any harm from coming to him. Of course, it may simply be all talk, with nothing to worry about whatsoever. That is the best-case outcome. But if it should come to the worst…" He trailed off, letting the others' imaginations do the work for them.

"We most certainly do not want that," Oakheart stated. "What is it you ask of us? Numbers?"

"At least one volunteer," Snatcher said, "willing to travel with us."

"Only one?" Oakheart pressed. "For such an urgent matter, it seems you would need more."

"At LEAST one," Snatcher reiterated. "Will you consider our request? You need not decide right away, of course. Perhaps by tomorrow, the answer will be more clear. In the meantime, we hope to enjoy the sights of the Sadida Kingdom. Most of us, myself included, have never set foot in this grand civilization."

Oakheart was rightly suspicious; this was the first he had heard of any groups dedicated to either protecting or attacking Phaerys. And if such a threat did lurk outside the borders, there was the matter of the much smaller and more defenseless Grougaloragran to worry about. But there was no telling if it was simply words made up by the strangers in order to attain some personal goal. All the same, Oakheart knew he could not simply oust the entourage based on the simple lack of knowledge about them. "I will require time to think it over," Oakheart stated. "There are a number of other matters I must attend to that are more pertinent to this kingdom. I shall return to this matter at dinner, to which you are all cordially invited. In the meantime, you may stay on the palace grounds, but not unsupervised. You will be given quarters in which you may relax after what I am sure has been a long and hard journey."

"You are too kind, your Highness," Snatcher replied. "We shall anxiously await your decision. Come, friends. We shall retire to the quarters we have been given." He turned as if to begin striding away, firing a wink to Roman.

Mozenrath remembered his line on cue. "You mean we came all this way and we don't even get to see the Sadida palace?" His voice was soft, high; he had practiced in order to sound rightly feminine without Snatcher being able to accuse him of "cheating."

"We wouldn't want to intrude upon the privacy of our guests," Snatcher replied. "The king has already been too generous, letting us stay within the palace!"

"I did so have my hopes up," Mozenrath moaned. "I wanted to see where the great victory against Noximilien took place."

"That has never been our objective, Miss Black," Snatcher said firmly.

"Papa?" the young woman piped up. "Might I please, please give our visitors a tour of the palace? I can show them where Nox's clock is kept and everything!"

King Oakheart smiled. "Very well, Amalia," he said. "You may lead the tour. But keep the guards with you at all times."

The young woman leapt over the water, landing gracefully on the wooden planks. "I am Princess Amalia Sheran Sharm," she introduced, "and I would be honored to be your guide."

"No, Princess," Snatcher replied. "The honor is all ours."

...

Amalia talked a mile a minute as she brought the WHAM ARMY and close to a legion of Cra archers through various corridors and courtyards, explaining the significance behind each one. The first place that caught the group's attention was not, in fact, the location of the Eliacube, but the monument Amalia had mentioned earlier: an enormous clock with spidery mechanical legs, once a functioning vehicle but now broken down and planted in the ground so deeply that grass was beginning to grow up over its base.

"The clock of Noximilien," Amalia introduced. "We brought it here to remember the battle. You know the story of Nox, and how he drained the wakfu from the world in order to turn back time, no? Well, what you might not have heard was this. I don't like to brag, but we won that day because I channeled the tree of life itself. But of course, I couldn't have done it without my friends. Tristepin Percedal gave his life for us that day, or so we thought. He turned out to be all right, but it was the intention that mattered. And Yugo, the Eliatrope king – yes, yes, I know, me, personally friends with Yugo! – he finished the fight against Nox. You know, if Yugo were here, he would definitely join up with you in order to find out if the dragons were being threatened."

"He sounds like quite the hero," Rémington commented in his own disguised voice.

Amalia stared at Rémington for a moment. She knew this "woman" seemed somehow familiar, but had no clue where to even begin trying to figure out why. "He is," she said after a pause of trying to place the face in her memories and turning up nothing.

"Does the clock still work?" Mim asked. "Say someone wanted to use it to wreak destruction over the whole planet. Hypothetically, of course. Because we would want to stop them!"

"DEFINITELY not because any of us would ever want to use it ourselves," Yzma hissed with a sharp glare at Mim.

Amalia simply laughed it off. "It's been rusting for six years. I think it would take the power of a god to get it started again. Now, this way! There is something very important I want to show you, but you can't look at it directly."

...

High up a tree trunk, a red door was inset, and Sadida guards with pointed spears posted all around it. Amalia led her tour group along a catwalk that surrounded the tree, leading right up to the door.

"This is where we keep the Eliacube," she explained. "It is safe behind this door. The Eliacube is one of the most powerful – oh, silly me, you knew that! It's the reason for everything that happened with Nox AND Qilby. But no one has touched it in years. I don't think anyone will try to use it to bother us again. No one who's tried already has succeeded anyway. Oh, I do wish I could show it to you, but that would be against all the rules, so you'll just have to imagine it. It glows the most beautiful sea-green color."

Roman, Rémington, Grany, and Peter eyed the door with interest, already wondering how they could break into the well-guarded room, either by diverting the guards or creating an alternate point of entry.

"Well, that about wraps up our tour!" Amalia clapped her hands together enthusiastically. "I'll show you where your room is now, and you can relax there until dinner time."

"And what will you be doing until then, Princess?" Mozenrath asked.

"I had not quite figured that out," Amalia admitted. "Perhaps enjoy the day with a cup of tea?"

"I am rather thirsty," Mozenrath lied. "Might I join you for tea while my friends relax in their room?"

"We can bring you beverages in your assigned quarters," a guard said gruffly.

"No, no, it's all right!" Amalia waved her hands at the guard. "Of course Brandisia can join me for tea, and anyone else who wishes to!"

"I shall take you up on your most gracious offer," Snatcher chimed in.

"Wonderful!" Amalia chirped. "I did so want to hear more about you and how you all came together! Will the rest of you be joining?"  
"No," Yzma said quickly before anyone else could chime in. "We shall be retiring to our chambers to rest up, thank you very much. Though I will take you up on that offer of drinks. A lemonade for me, if you please."

Amalia, Snatcher, and Mozenrath went down the catwalk one way while the others, flanked by guards, went another. A pair of guards detached themselves in order to keep a closer eye on Amalia and her two cohorts.

And as the gears turned in the thieves' mind regarding how to gain access to the Eliacube inconspicuously, similar gears turned in Mozenrath and Snatcher's heads regarding the princess. With the right flair, they each thought, they probably had a chance of getting her to hand the Eliacube right over.

...

A glass coffin floated through the vast void of Galra Space, destined for nowhere in particular. Its occupant slept safely inside, not dead, but not quite alive. He might just have slept until his vital functions gave way and allowed him to slip into death.

But the coffin was intercepted by a bright red comet, careening through space at an almost reckless speed. Driven by the comet, the coffin was propelled through the abyss, passing stars and asteroids, until it came into the atmosphere of a celestial body that one just might mistake for a planet if one didn't know better.

The comet slowed down just enough that when the coffin hit the ground, it cracked, but did not harm its sleeping tenant. Warm air seeped in; the eyes of the Galra soldier cracked open.

The comet landed just before him, at first amorphous but then taking shape: a tall, thin-waisted woman with a cat's head, clothed in crimson. She faced away from him at first as she stretched out her arms to either side. Then Mirage slowly turned to face the Galra soldier, looking directly into his woozy eyes.

A single crack split the glass right down the middle. Mirage teased her fingers into this fissure and ripped the encasement open. The soldier was exposed to the elements in full, flinching as he blinked awake.

"Sendak," Mirage greeted. "I believe I heard that only victory or death would stop you. That didn't look like either."

"You know my name." It was an almost accusatory statement; the question it contained was loud and clear.

"I know more than you can imagine," Mirage replied, hands on her hips. "And from what I know about you…I think you'll do."

Sendak's gaze hardened. "And what is it you intend to use me for?"

"It seems that if one wants to get any evil accomplished these days," Mirage remarked casually, "one has to assemble a team. Or at least that's what's in fashion. I figured I'd give it a shot for myself. Unlike the others, though, I'm not looking for conquest. I'm looking for one very important and specific thing. Something you might not realize you're an expert at accomplishing."

"Don't assume I will go with you simply because you released me," Sendak growled. "I am loyal to Emperor Zarkon alone."

"And how do you think he wishes to reward you for losing to a bunch of ill-behaved children?" Mirage prodded. "I'm sure you would be given the HIGHEST honor. That, or he'd simply have you killed. The moment the Paladins of Voltron captured you, you became a liability, not an asset. Go back to Zarkon, if you wish. Become cannon fodder. Or stay with me and be the cannon."

Sendak didn't want to come to terms with the truth of her words. His failure had been unforgivable. There was a large part of him that simply wanted to return to Zarkon and accept his fate. It was an oath of loyalty he had sworn, and he had always believed he would be faithful to it.

But deep down, in his core, there was the traitorous urge to survive. And that urge was complicating everything.

"What exactly have I accomplished that interests you?" Sendak asked.

"Intimidation," Mirage explained. "Fear. The Arusians see you as a demon. The Paladins, for all that they were able to do to overcome you, shook at the sight of you. I'm not looking for a throne. I'm simply looking to put fear in the hearts of the people of all worlds. When you have fear on your side, you have the most powerful empire of them all."

"I do not seek – " Sendak began.

"I know," Mirage interrupted. "But I also know what you DO seek. Revenge on the Paladins. Especially that Takashi Shirogane. Do what I want, and…well, actually, your revenge on them would serve my end perfectly. It won't be your reward. It will be your first mission. This world – this massive web of planets – basks in the hope that Voltron will protect them. Eliminate Voltron, and what remains?"

"Fear," Sendak answered. "You know so much. I wouldn't be surprised if you knew where the Paladins were at this very moment."

"You're catching on," Mirage said slyly. "They are due to arrive here soon. You and I shall have our chance then. We shall fight side-by-side, and the Paladins will be no more."

Sendak was still wary. This woman was undoubtedly untrustworthy. She knew far too much. And yet her words rang true; his urge to survive pushed him to, if not follow her, at least stay away from Zarkon, stay away from Haggar, stay away from the entire Galra infrastructure. And if she could make good on her promise? If she knew that Shiro and his young annoyances were on their way as a special delivery to Sendak?

Foolish as it was, he wanted to take a chance on her.

"I will help you," he vowed. "But only if the Paladins are our first mission."

"That is exactly why I brought you here," Mirage promised. "Soon, the Paladins will have to face their own fears. There are so many ways to go about it, you know. Destroy Shirogane first. Or make him watch the little one bleed out right in front of his eyes."

Sendak liked the sound of that.

...

Roman, the Huntsman, Mim, Aghoul, Wuya, Yzma, Peter, and the Smisses were led around another catwalk up the trunk of a thick tree to where a charming wooden door opened upon a small apartment. A series of bedrooms branched off a lounge with kitchen facilities. Every texture that could be wood was, and what wasn't wood was leaf green.

"These are your quarters," one of the Cra guards introduced. "You may do as you wish inside, but if you wish to leave, it will be with supervision. If you have any requests in the meantime, you may simply ask."

"We'll take the Eliacube, if you please," Aghoul attempted. Snatcher had to wince at his voice, which hardly sounded feminine at all and brought to mind fingernails on a chalkboard.

The guards stared at Aghoul for a moment before he burst into forced laughter. "Just a joke! But we will take enough lemonades to go around."

The group filed into the lounge, trying to mask how eager they were to get away from the guards. Once all were inside and the door was shut, Wuya cast an aura over the wood, causing it to shimmer.

"There," she said. "Now we can talk about anything without being heard."

"So I've been thinking about the Eliacube," Yzma began, "and I have some ideas."

"I'm going to shut you down right now," Roman replied.

"Hear her out," Wuya commanded.

"What, you already know it's a bad idea?" Grany asked.

"Once you get to know Yzma better," Aghoul explained, "you'll understand."

"We begin by distracting the guards," Yzma rattled. "A flash mob should do the trick. Who can resist joining in on a flash mob? While the guards' attention is diverted, Ragdoll will scale the back side of the tree using a pair of plungers, which we shall have to locate before we can implement any of this. When he reaches the apex of the tree, he'll cut a tiny hole into the back of the Eliacube chamber using several implements that we will also have to locate beforehand. This aperture should be just big enough for him to slip through. Once he does, he can unlock the doors from the inside, go back out through the hole, open the door, and walk right into the chamber! We'll have Roman waiting in a neighboring tree at a vantage point. Ragdoll will leave the chamber with the Eliacube, toss it to Roman, and use the plungers to go back down the tree. Roman can stash the Eliacube in that wig of his and rappel his way down his own tree. If any questions are asked about it, we will pass it off as a fashionable hair accessory. We then leave with the Eliacube, and no one is the wiser!"

There was a pause.

"NOW do you see why we don't let Yzma come up with the ideas?" Aghoul asked Grany.

"I have several questions," Rémington brought up. "If Ragdoll is going to break in through the back wall, why does he have to let himself in through the front door? How is he going to carry whatever kind of saw we need all the way up the tree? Why can't he just use the catwalk, since the guards are going to be distracted? And how do you know the guards will join in on the flash mob? Actually, I KNOW they won't join the flash mob."

"Then we'll use a conga line," Yzma amended.

"I do like the idea of boring through the back wall at least," Wuya admitted. "I could probably do that inconspicuously with magic. And if we don't have to worry about the front door, then we can just keep the guards occupied with…well, anything loud and noisy. A flash mob might not actually be a bad idea in that respect."

"I shall begin choreographing at once!" Yzma proclaimed.

"We should wait until nightfall," Rémington added. "There will still be a guard posted, but fewer people to walk by and get suspicious. We just have to make sure our distraction doesn't wake everybody up."

"After dinner, to be sure," Peter volunteered. "If we fail to attend, we won't just look suspicious; we'll come across as downright rude."

"Remind me why we can't just blow the whole place up and take what we want?" Mim huffed.

"Because Archie is in charge, and this is how he does things," Roman reminded her. "If he were here right now, he'd probably say something about making sure we don't burn bridges with the plant people so we could try and cash in favors with them later. Trust is a powerful tool of persuasion after all, Torchwick. And we want to stretch ours as far as it will endure." His accent slipped into decidedly British. It veered back out of echoing Snatcher as Roman punctuated, "Though if things go horribly wrong, I'm not ruling out blowing it up as an option."

A knock at the door signified that lemonades had arrived.

...

Amalia took tea in an outdoor courtyard, where sunlight filtered down through the canopy above. Mozenrath idly stirred his tea with a delicate-looking spoon, thinking about how he had been told of the Sadida's connection with plants and trying to reconcile that with Amalia drinking a byproduct of dead leaves.

"Your dresses are so lovely!" Amalia complimented. "Wherever did you get them?"

"You'd be surprised what fashions you can find while traveling the world, dear," Snatcher replied cryptically, knowing full well that admitting a purchase in a den of thieves might be a giveaway.

"So, princess," Mozenrath said after a long sip of tea, "tell us more about yourself."

Amalia smiled. "What's to tell? I am the Sadida princess, and part of the famous Brotherhood of the Tofu."

"I want to know more about that," Mozenrath went on. "What exactly you did – "

"Miss Black, you silly girl!" Snatcher interrupted, forcing a giggle. "She's so obsessed with the story of the Brotherhood, you know. Always trying to get more details, despite already KNOWING the story back to front!" Snatcher fired Mozenrath a meaningful look; he was asking Amalia for information that any denizen of the World of Twelve wouldn't have to inquire about.

"Sorry, Penelope," Mozenrath replied. "I always have been a fan of a good-versus-evil story." Though not the sort where good won, he added in his mind.

"Sometimes I wonder if Nox really was all that evil," Amalia mused, stirring her own tea. "He nearly destroyed my entire kingdom and killed my people…but he seemed to be trying to fill a hole in his own heart. Now, Qilby was evil. There's no question about that! He can claim he didn't want to be alone all he wanted, but a man who destroys world after world can never be trusted! Sometimes I wonder if he's definitely locked up in the White Dimension for good…" She shivered. "But that's silly talk. There isn't anything that could let him out. Except the Eliacube, and we have that locked up safely."

"Quite safely," Snatcher agreed.

Mozenrath's thoughts diverted down a side road. Did the people of the World of Twelve know about Corridors of Darkness? Using the Darkness, one could break into or out of any dimension one pleased. He severely doubted that simply tucking a villain away into an alternate dimension was a secure form of imprisonment.

"It is rather a shame we couldn't see the cube for ourselves," Snatcher continued, "given how hard you worked to protect it. We admire you greatly, your highness. It would be an honor to see the fruits of your labor."

"Thank you," Amalia replied. "I do wish I could show you. But it's a matter of security – "

"You don't trust us," Mozenrath snapped.

"It isn't that I don't trust you," Amalia said quickly. "It's that we've only just met, and – "

"That still sounds like distrust," Mozenrath taunted.

"Perhaps I could trust you if I knew you better," Amalia suggested. "Why don't you tell me more about yourselves? Why did you begin your mission to protect dragons?"

Snatcher and Mozenrath caught each other's eye. They hadn't planned that far.

"It…began with just Miss Black and myself, you see," Snatcher kicked off.

"We're the daughters of two Enutrof families," Mozenrath added, remembering Rémington's description of the peoples of the World of Twelve. "We grew up together in a town by the ocean."

"I was Miss Black's governess," Snatcher quickly invented. "What a rambunctious child she was, always taking me on this adventure or that! Her favorite place was on the seashore, where she would look to the horizon and dream of great adventures to be had across the ocean."

"Penelope always did take good care of me," Mozenrath added. "Well, except for that one day. The day when it happened."

"I made a terrible, terrible error," Snatcher said, picking up on Mozenrath's train of thought. "I had just taken young Miss Black down to the seaside so she could play when I was waylaid by a pair of acquaintances. We set to talking, and during that time, I had completely lost track of Miss Black!"

"I…went in for a swim," Mozenrath continued, "and…I…"

He and Snatcher said "Went too far!" as one, and both forced a round of chuckles to punctuate it.

"I noticed far too late how far out to sea Miss Black had swum," Snatcher said mournfully, "and only then because of her cries for help. She had tired out, and was beginning to falter in the water."

"I thought I was going to die that day," Mozenrath added somberly. "But then…well, the first thing I remember is the shadow passing overhead. Then I remember being lifted up out of the water and carried through the sky."

"It was a dragon!" Snatcher announced, sounding as though he were still in shock from the incident. "He brought Miss Black back to the shore, and I was ever so glad she was all right – "

"She just about choked me to death hugging me," Mozenrath snarked.

"The dragon spoke to us then," Snatcher continued. "He gently warned Miss Black to stay out of trouble. I thanked him ever so much for what he had done. And then he was on his way, quickly as he'd turned up."

"Since a dragon saved my life," Mozenrath concluded, "we figured it was only fair to do the same. For all of them. For the rest of our lives. The others in our little entourage also had encounters with dragons in one way or another. That's what brought us together. And now, we're looking for Sadida who fit the bill." He and Snatcher exchanged pleased glances, proud of themselves for playing off each other to form a coherent narrative.

"Oh, what a wonderful story!" Amalia clapped her hands together. "You know…I've had some experience with dragons myself. I have a very good friend who is a dragon…though he might not think of me as much of a friend right now. We had sort of a fight, you see, and he went off his own way. But I'm sure he'll come back around. We're also taking care of a baby dragon. Grougaloragran. There only are so many dragons in this world, you know. I wonder which you met."

Both Snatcher and Mozenrath knew better than to describe the dragon; they may very well have come up with one that didn't exist. "I suppose we will know him when we see him again," Mozenrath said. "If that day ever comes."

"So you're looking for Sadida to join you," Amalia mulled over. "I'm starting to think…what if I came along with you?"  
Mozenrath and Snatcher immediately cringed.

"I've been to the Crimson Claws before," Amalia went on. "Again, not to brag, but I am one of the great heroes of this world thanks to what I did against Nox and Qilby. I think I'd be the perfect addition to your team!"

"But don't you have to stay here and attend to your royal duties, dear?" Snatcher said hurriedly.

"Not necessarily," Amalia replied. "This kingdom has gotten along well without me on my past adventures. Papa and Armand can handle everything. That settles it! I'll join you! For just one adventure. To make sure Phaerys is all right."

"But…we…" Mozenrath struggled for a counterargument.

"You said you wanted Sadida who would help you protect dragons, right?" Amalia said sternly. "Well, I am a Sadida, and I want to help protect Phaerys! Is there a problem with that?"

"None whatsoever," Snatcher relented.

He and Mozenrath now recognized their new mission: to find a way to get Amalia off their backs long enough to complete the theft of the Eliacube.

...

The great clock that had once served as Nox's vehicle of destruction had rusted for years, gathering cobwebs on the interior. The quiet seemed to have settled as a permanent fixture of the mechanical behemoth. The first footsteps to break that silence in six years were as loud as cracking thunder.

"This is what that fool Nox used the Eliacube for," Qilby remarked as he looked around the metal chamber. "Not even close to its full potential…but I have to admit he was creative."

"I suppose it needs this Eliacube in order to run," Tyrian guessed.

"Unless a sufficient source of backup power can be found," Qilby remarked, eyeing up a small pedestal that had served as the resting place for the Eliacube.

"Comin' up," Hades replied. He snapped his fingers, and a small sphere of deep blue crystal filled with pure Darkness appeared where the Eliacube had once served as the machine's engine. The clock began to whirr to life, an ominous tick-tock echoing throughout the chamber. "Bada bing!"

"This plan of yours is a long shot," Qilby told Tyrian.

"I know," Tyrian admitted, grinning widely. "That will make it all the better when we actually succeed."

"So, are we going for it right away?" Hades asked. "Or – "

"We have a few stops to make first," Tyrian stated. "I want to test my little theory about Mozenrath and his…friends."

"I have some errands I wish to run as well," Qilby added.

"You two call the shots," Hades said with a nod. "Though I will remind you that if you aim for the wrong target, I WILL make you both permanent fixtures of the White Dimension. You wanna go back there? You don't wanna go back there."

"Well noted," Qilby said somberly.

"Now," Tyrian announced, "let's have some fun."

...

A long hike took Riku, Aladdin, Nora, Ren, Nick, and Luna to the highest summit they could see: a tall mountain reaching for the blue sky. At the peak, they made note of a small rock formation: a column of flat stones that reached to about chest height of most of them, with a pink conch shell lying on top.

"What's that?" Nora wondered out loud.

"I don't know," Riku answered, "but someone built it for a reason. Let's not mess with it."

"It speaks to me of meaning," Luna added. "I feel as though it was not simply built for any reason, but for something deeply important."

"How do you know?" Nick asked.

"I have always been able to sense meaning to a degree," Luna explained. "Things that are sacred stand out to me. I suppose it comes with being an alicorn."

"Hey!" Nora realized, scanning the horizon. "You can see the whole place from here!"

"We're on an island," Aladdin observed after scouting around for himself.

"That does not leave our adversaries many places to go," Luna stated.

"Unless they used the Darkness to move," Riku pointed out.

"They still have not left this world," Luna informed him. "At least, the one you marked has not."

"They could just take a boat," Nora realized.

"We definitely spent enough time searching the forest that they could have gotten away without us noticing," Nick added.

"Maybe it's time to check out the village," Aladdin suggested.

"What village?" Nora asked.

Aladdin pointed downward. "That village."

At the foot of the mountain, a sprawling village was visible, its people moving about to attend to various tasks.

"Good idea," Riku said with a nod. "Let's go."

It didn't take the group long to hike down the mountain and enter the borders of the village. As Riku saw people weaving baskets from palm fronds and cooking on outdoor fires, he smiled, thinking of life back home on the Destiny Islands.

The oddly-dressed crowd – most of all Luna – drew stares from the people the further into the village they wandered. Attention was drawn to them, and passed from villager to villager until the right person for the job of figuring out who these strangers were and where they had come from was found. As soon as she sighted Riku's group, the young woman rushed over to them with a smile. "Uh…hey there!" she greeted, waving.

"Hey," Riku replied jovially, waving back.

She skidded to a halt in front of the group, and Riku noted that she looked to be about his age. "I don't mean to be rude," she said, "but everyone could kinda tell that you're not from around here, so we were basically wondering what you were doing here. Not that we want you to leave! Just…if there's anything I can help you with, go ahead and ask."

"We appreciate it," Riku replied. "Who are you?"  
"Right," the young woman realized. "I didn't introduce myself. Probably should have done that first. Sorry, it's been a day. First we had that whole monster in the coconut grove, and now…" She halted herself. "I'm Moana. Chief-in-training of the village of Motonui, which you are in. Who are you?"

One by one, the others introduced themselves:

"I'm Riku."

"Name's Nick."

"Nora Valkyrie!"

"Lie Ren."

"Call me Aladdin."

"I am Luna."

At the latter, Moana flinched. "You can talk!"

"I am finding that seems surprising," Luna confessed. "You must not be used to my kind being able to speak."

"I've seen weirder," Moana said with a shrug. "Where did you all come from?"

All knew better than to betray right away that they came from another world. "I'm from another island," Riku answered, which was technically the truth.

"So," Moana asked, "can I help you? Maybe give you a tour of the village?"

"I'm sorry to have to turn you down," Riku replied, "but we're looking for a missing friend of ours. We followed his kidnappers to this island, but now we can't find them. They might have gotten off the island. Maybe you can help us in that way. We don't really have any way to follow."

"Not even a boat?" Moana asked. "You had to have gotten here by boat."

There was a silence before Nora said, "It got wrecked on the way in."

"Well, we can definitely get you a new boat," Moana affirmed. "And whoever your kidnappers are, that's definitely no one in Motonui. If your friend is missing, maybe I can help you find him."

"We'll take all the help we can get," Aladdin replied.

"Don't worry," Moana reassured the group. "The ocean is a friend of mine. I'm sure I can help you find your way to wherever they took your friend. I know my way around these islands pretty well."

"Thank you," Riku said sincerely. "We appreciate it."

"I just need to talk to my dad first," Moana explained. "He's the actual chief. Can't really just go out sailing somewhere without telling him." In the back of her mind was the fear that he would try to stand in her way, seeing as she was dropping everything to sail out with total strangers…but when someone came to her in such a desperate hour of need, how could she say no? "Just…wait here."

Riku nodded, and Moana took off running.

"You really think we should just let her come along?" Nick asked condescendingly. "We don't even know her."

"She knows her way around these waters," Riku affirmed. "We don't. And she seems honest. I can't detect any Darkness around her."

"I think she just really wants to help," Aladdin added. "I don't see why we can't let her."

"We're probably going to have to tell her the truth about where we came from," Ren said softly.

"We'll worry about that when it's time," Riku said firmly.

...

Centuries ago, the heart of the mother island of the world that housed Motonui had been stolen by a well-meaning but impulsive demigod, causing the heart of that world to become cursed and the Darkness to spread throughout the ocean, infecting island after island: vegetation died, fish became scarce, and monsters swarmed throughout the ocean, looking for the small boats of hapless sailors. All this had come to an end when Moana had returned the mother island's heart to her, restoring the natural order to the world and allowing the mother island, Te Fiti, to enter a peaceful rest. The islands that had been infected by Darkness began to rebuild from the ashes.

But the first islands to ever encounter the Darkness had been swallowed by it entirely, becoming utterly uninhabitable, and from this, they had never returned. The dead trunks of fossilized trees covered them in place of living palms. Instead of villages, they played host to the ruins of civilizations that could not survive. No fish dared approach these now forbidden-seeming islands.

It was on one of these islands that Grimhilde and the Dark Ace had taken Xander, making their base in a deep cavern. Grimhilde summoned her mirror to hang on the wall and show her what she desired to see while Xander was forced to sit against the opposite wall, not even daring to struggle, as the Dark Ace refused to sheathe his sword and was obviously ready to give a painful blow at any sign of resistance.

At that moment, Grimhilde had chosen to spy on the other Fairest she had in mind: a female. The Mirror warned her that she would not like what she saw, and Grimhilde found it proven correct. Moana, whose heart she had thought would be easy to collect and crush along with Xander's, was allying herself with Riku, Aladdin, Luna, Nick, Nora, and Ren. Facing that entire group was an encounter Grimhilde knew was not in her favor, even with the Dark Ace at her side.

"What do you suggest we do now?" the Dark Ace asked. "Shall we not simply pick another Fairest?"

"No," Grimhilde grunted. "I am set on this one. We can find a way to isolate her from the new bodyguards she has acquired."

"If you say so," the Dark Ace replied.

"It will take them time to find this island," Grimhilde promised. "Time allowed us to figure out how to obtain her heart. And soon, there shall be none else to stand in my way."

...

Much like everything else in the Sadida kingdom, the royal dining hall was shades of beige and green, with wooden walls and green banners abound. Oakheart sat at the table's head, with Amalia and the young man who had flanked him earlier – presumably this was Amalia's brother Armand – at his side. His "esteemed guests" – Mozenrath, Snatcher, the Huntsman, Roman, Mim, Aghoul, Wuya, Yzma, Peter, and Rémington – were seated at the opposite end of the table. Grany, under the pretense of being an ordinary Bow Meow, was forced to sit under the table; Rémington discreetly passed him a plate before claiming his server had forgotten to give him his own. In between both ends of the table were assorted members of the royal court: mostly Sadida, but a handful of Cra.

Oakheart stood, raising his cup. "I would like to propose a toast," he began, "to our visitors: protectors of the dragons of this world."

The Huntsman flinched again.

"A toast!" Rémington hoisted his own cup high.

Amalia couldn't shake the feeling that she knew "Katana" from somewhere. Perhaps she had passed through the kingdom when Amalia was younger.

That was when the doors to the dining hall were kicked open. "A toast!" the intruder said as he strode in. "Yes, indeed, a toast!"

Roman nearly screamed. He clapped a hand over his mouth so as not to make any noise or comment. He had hoped never to see the man who had just walked into the dining room again, and began to seriously contemplate if it was worth blowing cover to stand up and punch him in the face.

"Who are you?" Oakheart asked. "And who let you in?"

"Me?" Tyrian Callows put a hand to his chest. "Why, I let myself in. You really ought to hire some more durable guards, your majesty."

It was then that anyone who took a closer look at the door could see the bodies laying haphazardly outside.

Tyrian made one graceful leap up onto the table. "Ladies and gentlemen," he announced, spreading his arms and doing a 360, "I would like to bring your attention to the main event of tonight. For tonight is when history repeats itself. You all thought you were safe. You thought the story was over. Well, you just saw the end of act one, and I hope you enjoyed the intermission."

"Get to the point!" Armand yelled, standing and slamming his fist on the table.

"I'm waiting for the point," Tyrian replied cockily.

A booming explosion sounded outside.

"And there it is now," Tyrian chuckled. "Care to have a look-see?"

The Cra guards present drew their bows, aiming at Tyrian. Tyrian performed a deft backflip off the table as their arrows loosed, all ammo hitting the ceiling. He opened fire with his wrist-mounted guns; the WHAM ARMY hit the dirt and crawled under the table. Several guards' bodies hit the ground as well, though not of their own volition.

"I can't," Roman seethed, "believe…it's…HIM."

"Who is he?" Yzma whispered.

"I will explain later," Roman hissed. "For now, all you need to know is that I FUCKING HATE HIM."

Amalia gave a scream, charging at Tyrian. Several vines, guided by her will, snapped up from around the room in an attempt to bind and strangle him. Tyrian flipped and flopped dexterously out of their way, turning to bolt out of the room.

"AMALIA!" Armand put a hand on his sister's stomach, shoving her back. "Stay out of the way! This is dangerous!"

"That's exactly why I have to do something!" Amalia hissed, shoving Armand in return.

The WHAM ARMY, motivated by morbid curiosity, was the first faction out of the room, wondering what exactly Tyrian was playing at. Tyrian, however, was nowhere to be found. The tree trunk containing the Eliacube had been blown open, the chamber exposed. Two figures stood atop the tree, waiting for an audience before they did their dirty deed; the plan had required them to make their presence very well known.

Amalia, Armand, and Oakheart skidded to a halt right behind the assorted WHAM ARMY. "No," Amalia whimpered. "Oh, no, no, no…"

She didn't recognize Hades. But she did recognize the thin brunette man next to him. The man who, upon making sure all eyes were upon him, reached out to grasp the Eliacube – now visible as a glowing green stone - with the hand he had before holding it up next to the stump of the arm he'd lost. The cube morphed from its boxy shape into a lengthy arm with claw-like digits, and the man's entire appearance changed. Suddenly, his skin shone a brilliant white, his hair darkening to raven black. The sea green of his supernatural arm shone through in his eyes.

"Amalia," Armand said nervously, "tell me that isn't – "

"Qilby," Amalia said shakingly. "It's Qilby!"

Qilby put out his Eliacube-powered hand, opening a glowing green portal in front of himself. A similar portal opened up right before his audience, and he stepped through it to arrive in front of them. "Hello again, Amalia," he greeted. "And goodbye."

A tangle of vines shot toward him, but another portal appeared, and he was gone as soon as he'd come. Hades also disappeared in a burst of flame.

"Tell me that wasn't who I think it was," Yzma whispered to Aghoul.

"What, you mean the Lord of the Dead?" Aghoul replied.

"I said to tell me it WASN'T him!" Yzma seethed.

"Where did they go?" Armand demanded. "Guards! GUARDS!"

The sound of creaking and whirring called the attention of all to the very edge of the palace grounds. By the time everyone made it to where the great clock of Nox had been laid to rest, it had already gotten up and sped away, Tyrian standing atop it and giving a cheerful wave. As the clock made its getaway, Tyrian yelled out "ARRIVEDERCI!" before collapsing into loud laughter that echoed through the sky.

"AFTER THEM!" Oakheart demanded.

But before anyone could give chase, the clock disappeared into an enormous sea-green portal of Qilby's design.

"What could he want?" Amalia cried in panic. "What is he going to do? What are WE going to do?"

The WHAM ARMY eleven backed up into isolation. In a voice only soft enough to be heard by his colleagues, Mozenrath voiced the sentiment they were all thinking: "They just stole our Eliacube."

"So what now?" Mim asked.

"What do you mean, what now?" Mozenrath hissed. "We follow them, we take the cube, and we make them regret beating us to the punch."


	39. To Cross the Ocean

A/N: Wow, Wakfu has way more lore than I realized. This fic is going to be canon as far as the main animated series and the "Eliatrope Dofus" OVAs are concerned, but divergent almost completely from the comics/manga (though incorporating a few ideas that originate there).

Also, the Mim/Rémy relationship is built on a degree of dysfunction that I would not advise for real-life relationships. A small trigger warning may be in order for that, so here it is.

39\. To Cross the Ocean

The Sadida Kingdom was absolute chaos. Oakheart, Armand, and Amalia were occupied rushing this way and that, ordering their soldiers to try and find the missing clockwork at all costs. The WHAM ARMY was hustled back to their hollow-tree quarters in the time of emergency.

At which point Snatcher deemed it time to make a great escape.

"Tyrian," Roman growled the moment the door was closed on the group. "It had to be TYRIAN."

"I suppose now is when you give us a twenty-minute rant on who exactly Tyrian is and why we should all hate him," Yzma sighed.

"Actually, yes," Roman confirmed. "Now is that time."

"It'll have to wait," Snatcher interrupted. "We've an opportune window of time to make our grand getaway without any hitchhikers."

"Without hitch – " Roman repeated. "No. You picked someone up. And not in the actually-compatible-with-the-team way."

"We…may have convinced the princess it was a good idea to come along with us," Mozenrath admitted.

"YOU WHAT?" Yzma, Wuya, Mim, Aghoul, and the Smisse brothers all yelled in unison.

"Well, that's going to cause a few problems," Peter commented.

"Don't worry," Mozenrath said hurriedly. "If we get out now, we can leave her in the dust and we'll never have to see her again. So if someone could put us all back on the trolley, we can head out, see where the compass is pointing us, and listen to Roman's tirade on Tyrian."

"Already on it." Wuya flung out her hand, and a Corridor opened up.

The eleven utilized it to board their trolley, which the Huntsman set on a speeding course out of the forest.

As the WHAM ARMY trolley made its exeunt, it passed by the trolley piloted by Stork on its way into the kingdom. "We're almost here!" Yugo announced.

"I'm so excited!" Ruby squealed. "Are you excited? I'm excited!"

"Um…I wouldn't get too excited," Stork commented as he got a good look out the front window. "Everyone seems to be in a state of mass panic."

"Huh?" Sora crossed to the front to catch Stork's view.

Every Sadida visible was either frozen in a state of shock or in a hurry to get somewhere. Cra guards marched down the streets, parting to make way for the trolley.

"This isn't right," Yugo observed. "Something must have happened."

"And I'll bet Mozenrath had something to do with it," Jasmine theorized.

As the trolley neared the palace, the guards formed a blockade in front of it. "No one's getting through!" one called out.

"Let me talk to them," Yugo requested as Stork pulled the trolley into a halt.

"You sure that's the best plan?" Stork asked. "Because it looks like there might be danger hanging around. Maybe we better find somewhere safer to – "

"If there's danger," Sora interrupted, "then this is exactly where we need to be!"

"Somehow, I knew you'd say that," Stork sighed.

Yugo disembarked, running out to the guards. "Helloooooooo!" he cried, putting up his hands. "It's me! Yugo!"

"Yugo?" the lead guard repeated. "It is you! What are you doing here?"  
"I think I was trying to stop whatever just happened from happening," Yugo answered. "Can my friends and I get in to see Amalia?"

"Only because it's you," the guard responded. "No one else, and I mean NO ONE ELSE, is getting in or out. You understand me?"

"I understand!" Yugo said with a nod. "Thank you very much!"

He boarded the trolley, and the guards moved aside to let it pass through onto the royal grounds.

"YOU ARE A VERY BIG DEAL HERE, AREN'T YOU?" Papyrus asked.

Yugo just flashed him a smile.

At Yugo's request, the trolley stopped again in the midst of the royal grounds. Yugo was the first to exit. As the rest filed out, Amalia rushed by, and Yugo immediately called out her name.

Amalia's feet braked on the grass. She turned to answer the call. "YUGO!" she screamed, breaking out into an expression of pure joy and launching into a run at her friend. She dropped to her knees once she reached him, scooping Yugo into a tight hug, which he gladly returned. "I'm so glad you're here!" she whimpered. "Something awful has happened, and – "

She became aware of the presence of others; she looked up to see Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, Stork, and Jasmine regarding her with concern. "Who are they?" Amalia asked as she let go of Yugo and straightened up.

"I'm Sora," Sora introduced. "Yugo's new friend!" He extended his right hand.

As Amalia gingerly clasped and shook Sora's hand, Yugo explained, "They're all my new friends, Amalia. This is Stork, Jasmine, Ruby, and Papyrus."

"Pleased to meet you all," Amalia said with a smile. "Though I wish it were under better circumstances."

"WELL, IF THERE'S TROUBLE, THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT WE'RE HERE TO TAKE CARE OF!" Papyrus insisted.

"Um, what exactly happened here, anyway?" Stork asked, not altogether sure he wanted an honest answer.

"Oh, it's terrible!" Amalia explained. "Qilby has somehow returned! He has two new friends, and they got Nox's clock working again and rode it away! And worst of all, they have the Eliacube!"

"No…" Yugo was pumped full of horror. He took a step back, then another, then fell into a sitting position.

"What's the Eliacube?" Ruby asked. "I'm guessing this is bad. But HOW bad?"

"You don't know what the Eliacube is?" Amalia replied, stunned. "Have you been living under a rock?"  
"Um…maybe?" Ruby replied.

"The Eliacube is a powerful artifact used by Yugo's people," Amalia explained. "A madman named Nox (she explained, figuring that if her audience didn't know what the Eliacube was, they wouldn't know who Nox was) tried to use it to turn back time. And after that, an even worse man named Qilby tried to use its power to destroy our world."

"And it's all my fault it's been stolen," Yugo said softly. "If I'd held onto it…if I'd protected it like I was supposed to…"

"Oh, Yugo," Amalia said comfortingly, "don't blame yourself. If the entire Sadida Kingdom couldn't protect it, how could you have?"

"But they wouldn't have even known where it was if it was still with me," Yugo argued. He hoisted himself to his feet. "I was trusted with that cube, and that means no matter where it was stolen from, it's my fault."

"What do you mean, trusted with it?" Sora asked.

"After the final fight against Qilby – " Yugo began.

"Welllllllll, not quite the FINAL fight if that's who's out and about…" Stork pointed out.

Yugo nodded somberly. "After that fight, I entrusted the cube to the dragon Balthazar in another dimension. He said the World of Twelve wasn't ready to handle it. That was six years ago. But a short while ago, the cube was given back to me."

...

That short time ago, Yugo had been peacefully asleep in his bed at Alibert's, dreaming of blue skies and grand adventures, only to be awoken by a brilliantly blue light emanating from the corner of his chamber. He pried his eyes open as he heard a voice addressing him: "Yugo…your majesty, King Yugo…"

"Hm?" Yugo rose to view the source of the light: a tall man with a white beard, dressed in flowing robes. A shield-shaped metal plate emblazoned with a phoenix covered his chest, and he sported a headdress with a soft blue gemstone at its peak. "Who are…"

"A messenger from Balthazar and the Eliatropes," the man answered. "I have come to return something to you. Something you have earned."

He extended his hand; the Eliacube glowed upon his palm.

"The Eliacube!" Yugo blurted. "But…but Balthazar said…"

"That was six years ago," the stranger reminded him. "You have had time to mature. And now that you have more properly earned the moniker of 'king' after dealing with Ogrest, it has been agreed upon that the Eliacube should be passed back into your possession."

"It's not real," Yugo accused, "is it?"

The stranger approached, still holding out the cube. "See for yourself."

As soon as Yugo took the Eliacube into his hands, he knew it was the genuine article. "It is real. I apologize." He briefly wondered if this was some sort of setup, a malevolent plot…but what evil could be accomplished by passing the Eliacube back into Yugo's hands? Would a villain not take the cube for himself?

"Guard it well," the stranger bade Yugo. "It is safer with you than it will ever be anywhere else." He slowly became transparent, and Yugo could tell he was fading away.

"Wait!" Yugo cried, but by that time, the stranger was gone.

...

Yugo felt far less than qualified to hang onto the Eliacube himself. He feared that if he were its only line of defense, it would be quickly stolen and used for ill. Therefore, he transported it to the place he trusted to keep it safe.

"You guarded it once before," he told Amalia as he handed the cube to the princess. "Could you guard it again? I just…I don't feel I can keep it safe."

"Don't worry!" Amalia promised. "There will be nowhere safer for the Eliacube than among the Sadida! We protected it before, and we will protect it again!"

"You can't tell anyone it's here," Yugo insisted.

"My lips are sealed!" Amalia promised.

But all the same, word got out.

...

And so, in the present time, Yugo and Amalia faced each other again in the aftermath of the Eliacube's theft.

"It wasn't either of your fault," Jasmine said reassuringly. "It's the fault of the people who stole it. And I'm betting one of Qilby's 'friends' was Mozenrath."

"That's who you're looking for?" Yugo reiterated.

"Yup!" Sora said with a nod. "So…who were these people with Qilby?"

"One of them was a very strange man," Amalia described. "He wore white, and he had a long brown braid. This is going to sound hard to believe, but I think he also had a scorpion's tail."

The traveling companions looked to each other. After some silence, they turned back to Amalia. "Doesn't sound familiar to any of us," Sora admitted.

"And the other, I only got a glimpse of from far away, but he was powerful enough to blow the tree keeping the Eliacube apart," Amalia went on. "He was very tall, and blue. Or was he gray? His hair was very strange. It seemed to move like fire."

"Wait a second," Sora realized. "That's gotta be Hades. And if Hades is involved, that means Mozenrath ISN'T. They're enemies, remember?"

"Is Hades another one of your enemies?" Yugo asked.

"Yeah," Sora confirmed. "And he's a tough one. We're in for a fight against him, all right."

"I feel so bad for the dragon protectors," Amalia bemoaned. "They're getting swept up into all of this."

"Dragon protectors?" Ruby repeated.

"Oh, I didn't tell you!" Amalia realized. "A group of traveling dragon protectors who banded together from all over the World of Twelve is visiting our kingdom! I was going to go with them to head off a possible attack on Phaerys. They wanted Sadida to join their cause, and, well, I am a Sadida who is very heroic and interested in protecting others, am I not?"

"I couldn't think of anyone better," Yugo said with a nod.

"You should meet the team!" Amalia said excitedly. "They're all so wonderful and charming! I bet you'll get along immediately!"

"Sora just gets along with everybody anyway," Ruby giggled.

"Not wrong," Stork commented.

Up the tree trunk where Mozenrath, Snatcher, and company had been hustled, Amalia rapped sharply on the door. "Hello?" she greeted. "It's me, Amalia! I've brought someone you simply have to meet!"

There was no response.

Amalia rapped again, cautiously. "Hello…?"

No one answered.

"They didn't leave, did they?" Amalia asked the Cra guards standing to either side of the door.

"No, your highness," one of the guards responded.

"Well, I didn't want to be rude, but if they won't answer me…" Amalia grasped the door handle to find it unlocked. She then swiftly threw the door open to reveal empty quarters.

"That isn't possible," Amalia muttered as she hurried into the lounge, beginning to peer into each bedroom, the doors of which swung wide. "They can't be gone. How could they leave without anyone seeing?"  
"This is bad," Stork muttered. "It's way, WAY too suspicious."

"Well, they must be somewhere in this kingdom still," Amalia resolved with a shrug. "They wouldn't have just packed up into their trolley and left without me!"

"Actually," Stork informed her, "we passed a trolley rolling out while we were on our way in. It's probably the same one."

Amalia felt as though she'd been hit by that very trolley. "But…they promised they'd take me along," she said in shock. "They said I would be welcome on their adventure. We were going to protect Phaerys, and…and…why would they leave me behind? Did I do something to offend them?"

"You?" Yugo replied. "I can't imagine you doing anything to offend anyone."

"I still don't like this," Stork said. "Something's off. No one was supposed to get in or out. And yet SOMEHOW, this group of strangers managed to leave a kingdom in LOCKDOWN. You don't think that's a little weird?"

"Definitely suspicious," Sora said with a nod. "Though if it's an adventure you want, Amalia, you should come with us for a bit! Any friend of Yugo is a friend of ours!"

"We would love to have you travel with us," Jasmine asserted.

"Really?" Amalia beamed. "It would be just like old times!"

Yugo gave an enthusiastic nod.

"WE JUST NEED TO FIGURE OUT WHERE EXACTLY IT IS WE ARE GOING," Papyrus pointed out. "THE ENEMIES WE WERE LOOKING FOR AREN'T HERE, AND ENEMIES WE WEREN'T LOOKING FOR JUST LEFT. SO WHERE DOES THAT LEAVE US?"

"Well…" Amalia mulled it over. "If they were so concerned about Phaerys at Crimson Claws, we should probably check it out just to be safe. Maybe Qilby was the threat."

"Or maybe," Stork suggested, "your little dragon rights activists were horrible villains in disguise, and THEY'RE planning to get the jump on the Crimson Claws."

"Stork," Jasmine chastised, "we don't have enough evidence to assume anything like that."

"Nor do we have enough evidence to assume anything NOT like that," Stork replied.

"Well, either way, the Crimson Claws sounds like as good of a place to start as anywhere else," Sora figured, "so we might as well go."

"The name is red," Ruby muttered, shifting slightly. "I like red."

"THEN THAT IS WHERE WE MUST JOURNEY!" Papyrus declared. "PRINCESS AMALIA, WE WILL MOST DEFINITELY NEED A NAVIGATOR IN ORDER TO SHOW US THE WAY, AND PREFERABLY ONE OF ROYAL LINEAGE! ARE YOU UP TO THE TASK!"

"I think I am," Amalia said with a smile. "Just let me go and change first."

Within a few minutes, the group reconvened at the trolley. Amalia had abandoned her royal garb for a simpler outfit consisting of an eggshell-colored sleeveless top and a short leaf-green skirt. Her hair hung loose, with only a small flower-shaped hairpiece adorning it.

"Before we go," Jasmine asked, realizing a crucial factor, "are you sure it's a good idea to leave in the middle of a state emergency? How will your family feel about it?"

"I'm sure they'll be fine with it," Amalia said with a nod. "I let them know clearly. Though just to be safe, we might want to move before they find my goodbye note."

Jasmine smiled, remembering how she had snuck out of her own palace seeking adventure and answers and admiring Amalia for the mirrored action.

The trolley rolled out of the Sadida royal grounds, and when the guards saw Yugo waving out the window, they were not reluctant to let the vehicle pass.

"SO," Papyrus asked, "WHICH WAY?"

"Haven Port," Amalia answered. "You'll want to go down this road for quite a while. I'll let you know when to make a turn."

Yugo found his gaze distracted by her very presence; Amalia had lost no beauty during their time apart. Nor had she lost any spirit, which was altogether more important. Yugo found himself wishing more than ever that he could make his true feelings for Amalia known, but he worried she would laugh. And more than that, he knew there was no way she could return them. She was a woman, and he still a child.

"Yugo?" Amalia asked. "Is everything all right? You're staring into space."

"First symptom of the mindworms…" Stork muttered.

Yugo shook his head. "I'm fine. Just lost in thought. No worms, I promise."

"That's what they all say," Stork said with a shake of his head.

"So…can we go over what all happened when Qilby took the Eliacube?" Ruby requested. "We should know as much about the situation as possible."

"Hmm…" Amalia thought it over. "I think I should start with when the dragon protectors came. There were ten of them, plus their Bow Meow mascot. All were women except for two. And they were all so nice. Especially Brandisia Black and Penelope Frou Frou. When we took our tea together, they – "

"Wait, WHAT?" Sora cried. "Say that name again!"

"Brandisia Black?"

"No, the other one!"

"Penelope Frou Frou," Amalia repeated. "An odd name, but it rolls off the tongue."

"Madame Frou Frou," Sora reiterated. "I think I know who your dragon protectors really were. I ALSO think I know where Mozenrath was this whole time."

"Am I about to say 'I told you so'?" Stork asked. "Because it sounds like I'm about to say 'I told you so.'"

"You guessed right," Sora confirmed. "They weren't dragon protectors."

"I TOLD you so!" Stork crowed. Then, somberly, "Sometimes, I hate being right."

...

"And they have to search the whole ocean for their friend," Moana expressed to her father, Chief Tui. "So I figured who better to guide them than someone who's, well, friends with the ocean?"  
"I see," Tui mulled over. He still didn't truly understand the connection between his daughter and the ocean, and he would be lying if he said that he believed the ocean actually communicated with her. However, there was truth in his next words: "I find this occurrence strange, and a little suspicious. But if this is what you believe you must do, I trust you. After all, I didn't trust you in the past when I should have. You have a good head on your shoulders, Moana, and I know you will use it. Just be careful and protect yourself when you need to."

"Thank you!" Moana pulled her father into a quick hug. "I don't know when I'll be back, but I WILL be back, I promise!"

She charged outdoors to meet Riku, Aladdin, Nora, Ren, Nick, and Luna awaited her. "Come on!" she beckoned. "This way!"

The group followed her to the cavern that housed the array of boats. "Hmm…let's see…" Moana strode up and down the line of vehicles, sizing them up with her eyes. "This one!" She leapt up onto a fairly large boat. "Plenty of room for all of us!"

"Then let's get it out to sea," Riku said with a nod.

Moana leapt down to help the others push it off the sandy coast and into the water, but not before her eyes alit upon the stretch of sand next to the chosen boat. "That's weird…"

"What's weird?" Nora asked.

"I thought for sure there was supposed to be a boat there," Moana remarked. "No, I KNOW there was a boat there, because it was part of a set with this one and the one next to it. I thought of them as 'the triplets.'"

"Maybe that's how our kidnappers got Xander off the island," Nick suggested.

"Xander?" Moana repeated. "That's your friend's name?"

"Indeed it is," Luna confirmed.

"You hear that?" Moana turned to the shallow waters. "We're looking for a Xander. Think you can help?"  
The waters rippled, giving no obvious answer.

"Who are you talking to?" Nick asked.

"The ocean," Moana answered. "She'll help us. Though the way she helps is never really that…straightforward. The first time I asked for help, she wrecked my boat. It was exactly where I needed to be, but still! Rude!"

A jet of water splashed Moana in the face.

"Okay, okay, sorry," Moana groaned. "I know you have your reasons."

"Are we seriously going to travel with someone who thinks she can talk to the ocean?" Nick hissed.

"She doesn't think she can," Luna answered softly. "She knows she can. The ocean is a strong force, a goddess who is present on many worlds. As someone who is intimate with the moon, I have grown to know the tides well, and by that means, the ocean herself. Her relationship with Moana must be stronger than most."

"Well, if the space unicorn says so, it's gotta be true," Nick resigned.

"Nick!" Nora slapped Nick on the back of the head. "YOU'RE the one being rude! And she's an ALICORN! Pay some attention!"

"Anyone wanna help us out moving the boat?" Aladdin reminded the others as he, Riku, and Moana found themselves the only ones working on putting the craft to sea.

"I'm on it!" Nora cried, and she, Ren, Nick, and Luna lent their strength, though once Nora began to push, the others nearly lost balance; it was clear she could have moved the boat all by herself had she wanted.

The group boarded, sailing beneath the waterfall – which Ren did not appreciate the soaking from – and gliding out onto the open ocean. Moana rushed about, pulling ropes to adjust the sail, to find Riku doing the very same.

"I see you're a wayfinder," she observed.

Riku appreciated the use of the word. "Yeah. I guess I am."

"It gets a little rough past the reef," Moana warned.

"Thanks for the heads-up," Riku replied.

Motonui became ever distant. "So," Aladdin said, "tell us some more about yourself, Moana. I take it this isn't your first adventure."

"Of course not," Moana answered. "The ocean called to me ever since I was a child. My father, on the other hand, wasn't really that happy about it. He wasn't a big fan of wayfinding. He…lost a friend to the ocean."

"My condolences," Luna said somberly.

"It's okay," Moana told her. "Still, thank you. Anyway, the Darkness that started when the heart of Te Fiti was stolen finally reached our island – "

"The what of the what?" Nick asked.

"You don't know?" Moana was surprised. Then again, these strangers all looked and dressed very differently from anyone she'd ever met on the islands she'd sailed to, including her own. Perhaps their island was so far away, they'd never even heard of the mother island, let alone had time to be affected by the Darkness. "Well, Te Fiti is the mother island who gave birth to us all. She's the source of life throughout the whole ocean. But a thousand years ago, a certain egotistical demigod thought he could earn points with us humans if he stole her heart and gave it to us so we could create life of our own. And it backfired HORRIBLY. The heart got lost, and without her heart, Te Fiti…well…she didn't take it well. And that's why the Darkness started spreading through our islands. It poisoned the waters so that monsters thrived, but not the fish we needed to eat. The coconut trees became diseased. I can't even imagine what happened to the first islands, the ones nearest to Te Fiti, when the heart was lost.

"I knew that story when I was very small. And I always wanted to be the one to give Te Fiti her heart back. I thought maybe I could save everyone. And the ocean agreed. She gave me the heart to deliver."

"If the ocean could give you the heart," Nick asked, "why couldn't it – she – put it back herself?"

"Te Fiti became made of fire," Moana answered. "The ocean couldn't touch her without causing her incredible pain."

"And what's more," Luna added, "it was important that humanity stepped up to save their world. Moana needed to be empowered by the ocean. That did this world much better than the ocean simply keeping matters to herself." She turned her gaze to Moana. "The ocean is an acquaintance of mine, you could say. But not a friend the way she is to you."

"I spent so many years staring out at the water," Moana continued, "wishing I could cross it. Thinking out there was where I belonged. I guess that might sound silly. Why would I think I belonged so far away on waters I didn't even know when I was already part of such a perfect home?"  
"It's not silly," Riku told her. "I was the same way."

"Really?" Moana asked. "You…"

"I used to hang out on the beach with my friends, just looking out at the water," Riku explained. "I wondered what else was out there, and I wanted to find out. I wanted to be anywhere but home. Home felt too small to me. Like a prison. It looks like both you and me got what we wanted." He turned away. "Though I went about it the wrong way. I made mistakes. And I paid for them."

"If you followed your heart," Moana asked, "how could you be so wrong?"

"Because unlike you, I didn't want to save my people from the Darkness," Riku told her. "It was…almost the exact opposite."

"Well, you're sailing to save your friend now," Moana reminded him. "That's what counts."

"Thank you," Riku said sincerely, meeting her gaze once more. "So how did your story end?"

"Well, to keep it short," Moana concluded, "I found Maui – that's the demigod who started this whole mess – I brought him onto my boat, we sailed to Te Fiti, and the heart was restored. And that was my first adventure. After that, my people became more open to wayfinding, and I've had a few adventures after that…but nothing quite that important yet."

"You're getting ready to lead your people," Aladdin pointed out. "That's important. I should know."

"Are you the chief of your island?" Moana asked. "Or his son?"

"Well, I'm not exactly from the same kind of place as Riku," Aladdin disclaimed. "And I'm actually our leader's son-in-law. So, yeah, gonna be the next leader, but not by blood relation. And my wife is actually more of a leader than I am. She does have years of experience on me. Being in charge of a whole kingdom was…new for me. But the farther I go, the more I realize how important what I'm doing is. I have to make things better for people who used to be like I was. You know…poor, ignored, having to steal to get by. If I had to cross the ocean to protect them, I wouldn't even think twice about it."

"Your people sound lucky to have you leading them," Moana replied.

"Hey, I haven't known you that long," Aladdin stated, "but I think your people are pretty lucky to have you."

"Well, thank you," Moana said with a slight blush.

"So where are we headed?" Ren asked.

"For the nearest island," Moana answered. "Hopefully, your kidnappers got too lazy to go further. But if they didn't, we'll be ready to keep going. Now that we have two wayfinders on the job, we should be able to see how far we can really go. Right, Riku?"  
"Right," Riku said with a smile.

...

Galra Space was a vast expanse of resplendent stars on a backdrop of pure black. A great many of those stars, Kairi thought as she looked out the front window of the Gummi ship that she, Jaune, Cadance, Vida, Madison, Chip, Genie, and Carpet had been loaned for the mission, were planets, each with their own myriad of life and environments. The ship had already been traveling for hours through interspace, and it seemed that upon entering Galra Space, there had been another hour to go before the Balmera. One hour in which to look upon the seeming endlessness of it all and try to comprehend how much it encompassed.

The same hour was also spent singing, as is a staple of many a good road trip, or space trip in this case. Vida had wanted to lead the chorus only to find that Madison and Chip were the only ones who knew any of the same songs she did, but Cadance, Jaune, and Genie were more than willing to learn the staple pop hits of Briarwood, and so some time had been devoted to the lesson until all could sing in unison.

Kairi did not ignore the group out of any ill will; she focused her attention on driving the Gummi ship, and had little mental space left to learn lyrics. She was brought joy by hearing her teammates join together in concert all the same. Perhaps, she thought, she would learn the song later, when she didn't have a ship to pilot.

A light flashed over a dial Kairi had not paid attention to before. She had been given a brief rundown of the Gummi ship's dashboard before leaving, and thus knew that this was a communication system. "Hey!" she called back at her friends. "I think someone's trying to talk to us!"

"Quiet!" Jaune commanded, and everyone clammed up.

Kairi twisted the dial until a male voice with a strong accent was audible: "…lo? Hello? Hello! Hailing the strange orange ship!"

Kairi pressed her face to the glass of the dashboard window. She spotted the source of the communication: an immense white ship that dwarfed the Gummi. At first glance, Kairi was reminded of a fortress turned sideways and converted into spacecraft.

A softer female voice was heard on the hailing frequency, slightly muffled: "Coran! How do you know if that ship's a friend or a foe?"

"Yeah!" another voice, male, added. "We could be calling the Galra!"

"I believe I know what I'm doing!" the first voice, the one identified as "Coran," argued. He cleared his throat: "Attention, orange ship! Are you friend or foe?"

"Friend, I think?" Kairi answered. "We're not Galra. We're headed for the Balmera."

"Exactly where we were headed!" Coran responded. "You're quite close to getting in our way, you know."

"Sorry!" Kairi apologized. "I'll fix our trajectory." She shifted the ship's course.

"Thank you!" Coran said with enthusiasm. "What's your business on the Balmera?"  
"Looking for a friend," Kairi answered. "What about you?"

"Checking in with some old friends ourselves," Coran replied. "See you on the landing?"

"See you then!" Kairi agreed. "And we'll stay out of your way!"

The connection broke; Kairi turned down the dial.

"Who d'you think that was?" Jaune wondered out loud.

"Maybe THEY were the Galra, and it's a complicated trap," Chip theorized. "I sure hope not."

"I think we'll just have to find out when we land," Cadance stated.

The small Gummi ship gave the floating fortress its space; in the distance, once both craft had touched down on the skin of the Balmera, the disembarking crew of the Gummi realized that Kairi's observation had been accurate, as now standing upright, it took the exact form of a castle. "Well," Kairi asked, "should we go see if they are friend or foe?"

"I am curious about what brings them to the same place as us," Cadance replied. "I am also fairly certain that their friendship will be valuable."

"We don't know that they're not the bad guys," Jaune pointed out.

"The bad guys would have just run us over and squashed us," Chip argued. "These people just wanted us to get out of the way so we DIDN'T crash. I have a good feeling about this!"

"Well, then!" Genie temporarily transformed into the spitting image of Twilight Sparkle. "Let's go learn some things about friendship!"

As he reverted to his usual form, Cadance had to wonder how he knew what her sister-in-law even looked like, let alone her connection to the concept of friendship.

As the group set out toward the castle, they soon found out that the castle's occupants felt similarly and were making way toward them. There appeared to be seven: most of whom were wearing suits of helmetless armor edged in different colors and one of whom, a redheaded man, was sporting a well-kept blue suit.

Kairi put up a hand to wave, hopping slightly as she called out, "HELLOOOOOOO!"

A large young man, his dark hair cut short and his armor sporting yellow accents, put up his own hand and gave her a "HELLOOOOOOOOO!" right back.

"So far, so good," Madison remarked.

The party was led by a youth in red-edged armor with somewhat long raven-black hair. By the time Kairi and her friends got within auditory range, he had turned to face the rest, and he was audible saying " – don't know yet if these are more spies from Lotor or – "

"Uhhh, Keith?" a youth in blue-edged armor interrupted. "They can hear you."

Keith, the one in red, turned around in surprise. "Oh," he said. "Um…hi."

"Hi," Kairi replied. "Sorry for getting in your ship's way."

"It's fine," Keith said sharply.

Kairi put out her right hand. "I'm Kairi," she greeted. "Who are you?"

Keith automatically took her hand, shaking it once, firmly, while saying, "My name is Kei – "

"YOU DON'T KNOW WHO WE ARE?" the young man in blue screeched. His voice getting ever higher, he turned to his cohorts, squeaking, "She doesn't know who we are!" He cleared his throat, turning back to the group of visitors; "But the rest of you know about us, right? Riiiiiiiight?"

"Uh…" Jaune looked to Chip.

"Should…we?" Chip looked to Vida.

Vida and Madison shrugged.

"Well, you can search me," Genie contributed, quickly riddling his skin with pockets and making a show of turning them inside-out, producing nothing but what appeared to be sky-blue silk and a single moth.

Carpet managed to look bewildered without even making a motion.

"I'm sorry," Cadance said somberly.

"They," the blue-armored youth reiterated. "Don't. Know. Who. We. ARE."

"It's understandable," a tall woman in pink-edged armor, her long white hair piled atop her head, contributed. "Space is immense, after all. You didn't know anything about Voltron during the time you spent on Earth."

"But EVERYONE knows who we are!" the blue-armored youth protested. "We're the Paladins of Voltron! Heroes of the galaxy! Leaders of the rebellion! Warriors for freedom from the Galra! Well, most of the Galra. Not the Blade of Marmora or Keith – "

"WHAT did I tell you about telling people what I am?" Keith seethed.

"It slipped, okay?" the blue-armored teen snapped. "I'm still trying to deal with these people not recognizing the PALADINS OF VOLTRON."

"You're…human," the shortest of the group, a short-haired and bespectacled girl sporting armor with green accents, broke in. "Most of you, anyway. Are…you from Earth?"

"That's a complicated question," Chip answered.

"For now, let's just go with 'no,'" Jaune emphasized.

"What's complicated about it?" the girl wondered out loud. "Wait. Are you from another reality? Did you cross over to ours?"

"Something like that," Vida admitted.

"COOL!" The girl's face lit up. "How'd you do it? Did you have a piece of the big comet that – no, wait, did you come through some kind of – wait – "

"Well, obviously, they're not all from any Earth we know," the youth in yellow pointed out. "Horses don't come in that color where we're from."

"Actually, I'm an alicorn," Cadance corrected.

"Nor do they talk," the young man added.

"Well, if it's such a big deal that we don't know who you are," Kairi suggested, "let's fix that. I know you're Keith, and one of you is Coran…"

"That would be me!" the blue-suited man said in a chipper tone, his voice instantly recognizable. He had the kind of voice that could be picked out of any crowd in any environment, Kairi thought. "Official advisor to Voltron!"

"Keith," Keith reiterated. "Current black paladin of Voltron."

The young man in blue shoved in front of him. "Name's Lance," he introduced, smoothing back his hair. "Former blue paladin of Voltron. Current RED Paladin of Voltron. As for the black Paladin, who knows? Maybe someday. If any of you lovely ladies like, I can give you a tour of the red lion. Maybe take it out for a spin, show you some of my smooth moves – "

"Okay, keep talking like that, and I'll have to smack you," Vida said sternly. "Especially to my SISTER."

"Duly noted," Lance said quickly, shuffling back behind Keith.

"Name's Hunk," the youth in yellow said cheerily. "Yellow paladin. Nice to meetcha."

"Pidge," the girl introduced. "Green paladin."

"And I am Princess Allura," the tall woman added. "Current blue paladin of Voltron."

Kairi smiled. "Always nice to meet a fellow princess!"

"You're a princess where you come from?" Allura said, beaming.

"Yeah," Kairi replied, "though I'm still learning. Cadance is too."

"That's me," Cadance clarified. "I'm Cadance."

"And what about you?" Kairi asked the last member of the party, who hadn't yet spoken: a man in black-accented armor, with his black hair cut shortest of all and a shock of white running through it.

"I'm Shiro," the man said pleasantly. "Former Paladin of Voltron. Now I'm more of a…supporting role." He punctuated that with a smile.

"You keep mentioning this…Voltron," Jaune pointed out. "What is it? Is it some kind of organization?"  
"It sounds like a giant robot," Chip said excitedly.

"Well, you're not wrong," Pidge explained. "Each of us five paladins pilots a lion-shaped spaceship, and when we join together, we form kind of a more human-shaped ship that wields different weaponry depending on who's leading at the time. That's Voltron. It's our primary weapon against enemy forces and what we use to fight to liberate different planets. I could get into the specs of how each lion is attuned to a different element of nature and all the weapons activated by the different bayards, but that'd be a really long speech you probably don't have time for."

"That sounds so AWESOME!" Chip gushed.

"Chip," Vida reminded him, "we pilot the Megazord all the time. That's basically the same thing."

"Yeah, but ours starts with Titans and theirs starts with space lions," Chip pointed out. "It's totally different. And I'm not saying ours ISN'T cool."

"Oh?" Lance countered. "You have a giant space robot too?"

"Not anymore," Madison explained. "It got stolen from us."

"By the way, Hunk," Chip said with a nod, "yellow is the BEST color."

"I know, right?" Hunk replied.

"Thirded," Jaune added.

"Excuse me!" Genie broke in. "The Blue Buddies would like to lodge a FORMAL complaint!"

"Wait…you said you were blue?" Vida asked Allura. "But you're wearing pink."

"Pink is the Altean color of remembrance of the fallen," Allura explained. "I see a fair amount of pink in your clothing. Your favorite color, perhaps?"  
"Actually, it used to be my least favorite," Vida replied. "But it grew on me. Kinda had to."

"So now you know a lot about us," Keith pointed out. "We need to know more about you."

"What Keith means is we WISH to know more about you," Allura added. "What are your names?"

"And why are you here on the Balmera?" Keith asked sharply.

"Keith," Shiro cautioned, "we don't know – "

"We don't know ANYTHING about them," Keith filled in.

"Hey, I get it if you don't trust us," Jaune said, hands raised in a gesture of peace. "Not really sure I trust you guys either. Though the giant space robot sounds really, REALLY cool. Anyway, I'm Jaune."

The others rattled off their names:

"I'm Madison. Maddie, for short."

"And I'm Vida. Madison's big sis."

"Chip Thorn!"

"I am Princess Cadance."

"The one, the only…GENIE!" (Puncutated by a round of applause that came from nowhere.)

"And I'm Kairi," Kairi reiterated. "Oh, and that's Carpet." She gestured to the sentient cloth, which waved.

"Self-explanatory name," Lance replied. "I'm diggin' it."

"We came here to find a lost friend of ours," Kairi explained. "Well, more specifically, of mine. He was basically part of my family, but he was taken by enemy forces. We're trying to get him back."

"But in the meantime, we hear this creature is famed for its crystals," Cadance added. "We are working on a project that requires a certain cut of crystal. Our first priority is to locate Even, our lost friend. But beyond that, we were hoping to acquire a sufficient crystal."

"Enough about us!" Genie pulled a magnifying glass out of nowhere, holding it in front of his eye to give it a gigantic appearance as he hovered over Keith. "What are YOU doing here?"

"You know," Lance said, waving his hand. "Hero stuff."

"We're looking to rally some old friends," Shiro explained. "Or at least warn them of danger. The Galra prince Lotor has something very dangerous in his possession, and we don't know why he wanted it or what he intends to do with it. But the entire galaxy and then some is going to be affected, and there's going to be a fight. We need as many allies on our side as possible for this fight. 'Giant space robots' won't cut it alone. And if the people of the Balmera won't fight, we may need to evacuate them to somewhere safer."

"We were thinking like one of those space tacos," Hunk added. "You know, when space gets all folded."

"Ahhhh, a pocket dimension!" Genie said with a nod.

"You guys should totally come with us," Hunk suggested. "We can help you find your friend and your crystal along the way – "

Keith cleared his throat. "I think we have enough to do."

"Surely we can spare some time to help out some new friends," Allura pleaded.

"We're already FRIENDS?" Keith rebutted. "We're strangers. We don't even have a common goal."

"Keith's right," Jaune agreed. "Maybe we better go this one on our own."

"I dunno," Hunk said as he scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "I kinda thought it might be fun to team up for a bit. Even if we don't know each other that well. I mean, even us Paladins are close now, but we had to start out as strangers."

"I guess whatever you decide," Kairi said. "We can manage on our own, but I think Hunk's right. Teaming up could be fun."

"I still don't like it," Keith sighed, "but I can tell I'm outvoted."

"Pretty much," Lance confirmed. "For the record, I was going to vote against you no matter what."

"Thanks, Lance," Keith replied sarcastically.

"Innocent until proven guilty," Shiro added.

"Then let's go!" Pidge urged. "The Balmerans have probably seen our ship land. I bet they're on our way to meet us!"

And on their way they were. A crowd of the people Kairi had seen in her vision of the hourglass marched toward the castle-ship, led by a party of five.

Allura stepped to the front of the faction of visitors, and the Balmeran at the head of the approaching crowd, an old woman, greeted her: "Princess Allura. It is an honor."

"I assure you, the honor is all mine," Allura replied, giving a bow.

"And the rest of the Paladins of Voltron," the old Balmeran went on. "This is a momentous occasion."

Upon recognition of one of the paladins, a young Balmeran woman at the elder's side gasped; "Hunk! It is you!"

"Shay!" Hunk replied. "Good to see ya!"

Hunk and Shay rushed to each other, embracing briefly.

"But what brings you here?" Shay asked. "Is it another crystal you seek?"

"Not primarily," Allura explained, "though it is apparently on the itinerary."

"Then what brings you here?" the old Balmeran asked.

"We have bad news, everyone," Shiro announced. "Lotor, the Galra prince, has control of a comet that can travel through realities. We don't know what he's planning with it. We just know it isn't going to be good. And we need everyone on our side for whatever comes next."

"We will help in whatever way we can," the old Balmeran vowed.

"Then will you fight?" Keith asked. "Against Lotor? Alongside us?"

This caused a stir; the Balmerans looked to each other and spoke in hushed tones.

"We do not know how much assistance we can be in a battle," the old Balmeran admitted. "Of crystals, we have plenty. But we do not have warships, nor warriors to pilot them."

"We'll find a way to take care of the ships," Keith emphasized. "We just need to know if you're with us."

"With you, we definitely are," Shay said. "But perhaps not as warriors."

"There are other things you can do," Shiro said reassuringly. "But depending on how far Lotor has his sights set, there may be a need to evacuate."

"Evacuate the entire Balmera?" Shay was taken aback. "But…this is our home."

"Well, what if your lives depend on leaving it?" Keith urged.

"Hey, I don't know if I should even be talking here, since I'm new to the situation," Chip broke in, "but you were talking about a pocket dimension earlier. What if you put the whole Balmera in a pocket dimension? That way, no one has to leave home."

"We'll consult with the Blade of Marmora if such a thing is possible," Shiro said with a nod. "Good idea…" He struggled to remember the name.

"Chip," Chip reminded him.

"Who are your new friends?" Shay asked.

"They're not our friends," Keith grunted.

"Yet," Lance added.

"Kairi and her friends are missing someone important, and they're sure he's here," Shiro explained. "We want to search for him. They also wouldn't mind a crystal, if you can spare it."  
"Battleship class?" Shay asked.

"Uh…you got 'giant hourglass' class?" Jaune replied.

"We'll know it when we see it," Madison assured Shay.

"If we are looking for someone lost," Shay suggested, "we should split up into groups."

"Good idea," Shiro said with a nod.

"At LEAST two should do it," Allura added. "Perhaps a wider spread if that doesn't work."

"Tell us more about this friend," Shay urged. "What does he look like?"  
"He's human, like me," Kairi explained, "but a lot taller and a lot older. His hair is more like Jaune's hair color, but as long as mine. His eyes are very green. If you talk to him…well, he doesn't have the BEST manners."

"We will do our very best to find him," Shay promised.

So the newcomers' mission was taking over Voltron's, Keith thought. If that was the case, they had better not make him regret taking on their burden. If they were telling the truth, he knew it was important to extend a hand to them. But their story so far didn't make sense, especially in the way they'd been dodging the question about where they were from and why they didn't know Voltron. Keith was all but convinced they weren't trustworthy.

If only he could have known that the real enemy had just appeared somewhere else on the Balmera, in two factions.

...

First, there were the WHAM ARMY crystal seekers. Vexen, Ravess, Irmaplotz, Xayide, Snipe, Neo, and Garfield exited their Corridor of Darkness onto a currently uninhabited plain of the Balmera.

"We are looking for a battleship-class crystal," Vexen explained. "About three meters tall, and proportionally wide."

"And what is that in American?" Garfield asked.

Vexen gritted his teeth. "Just find something this size!" He threw his arm to the side, summoning up an iceberg of the correct height and width.

"Roger that, Iceman," Garfield replied.

"We shall divide into teams of two in order to more efficiently locate the crystal," Vexen decided. "When one team finds something sufficient, they shall contact the other via scroll."

"Yeah, they're called 'phones,'" Garfield sighed.

"Perhaps on YOUR world," Vexen snapped. "I believe 'scroll' is a more universal term."

About which he was wrong, but even if he knew that, he would never admit it.

"I shall take Xayide, Neo, and Ravess with me," Vexen assigned. "Snipe, Irmaplotz, and Garfield, the three of you shall comprise the second team."

"All right!" Snipe crowed. "C'mon, team! Let's kick Vexen's butt at crystal-finding and win this thing!"

"It isn't a competition," Xayide sighed.

"Anybody else notice how the people Vexen actually respects are with him and everybody else is the other team?" Irmaplotz observed.

"Perhaps you aren't the waste of space I perceived you to be after all," Vexen replied. "You seem to have some semblance of observational skills. Garfield, you too may surprise me yet. All hope is lost on Snipe."

"Whatever," Irmaplotz sighed, turning on a heel. "C'mon, guys. Let's go find that crystal."

"And for that comment," Garfield added before turning to follow Irmaplotz, "this IS a competition now, and we're gonna win it."

"GO TEAM SNIPE!" Snipe crowed as he brought up the rear.

"We are not being called 'Team Snipe,'" Irmaplotz sighed.

"I've got a few ideas for team names…" Garfield replied as the trio became more distant.

"I have to admit," Ravess said softly to Vexen, "your team division is quite refreshing. I, for one, will be glad to work without my brother's bullhorn voice ringing in my ear."

"As I will be glad to work without being pestered to waste my magic on banalities," Xayide sighed.

Neo gave a quick series of assertive nods.

"That was the idea," Vexen assured his cohorts. "With the annoyances out of the way, we sensible folk can actually get our work done. Now come. Our search begins below the epidermis, in the tunnels."

...

Second, Mirage had informed Sendak that the Balmera was the landing place to which she'd taken his container.

"Shirogane will have brought friends," Mirage explained. "For that, we must be prepared."

"I am more than prepared to face the Paladins of Voltron," Sendak growled. "All of them."

"Forgive my lack of faith, then," Mirage told him, "but it seems to me you should be given somewhat of a more powerful weapon. First, your old one needs fixing up."

She tapped Sendak's truncated shoulder, which had once played host to a powerful cybernetic arm. The metallic arm reformed itself, bound to Sendak's shoulder with a powerful electromagnetic connection that would allow him to throw it great distances.

"But the real show-stopper is this," Mirage announced as she backed off. The red cats with flaming backs erupted from the ground. "They are as much yours to command as mine now. They feed on fear, and thrive in the presence of it. The lack of fear weakens them. Against a single foe, they may falter, but they work best when facing a multitude of opponents. Every group has a weak link. I trust YOU won't be afraid of them."

Sendak grinned as he watched the cats crawl up to him, nudging against his armor. Their heat made his own temperature increase, but not uncomfortably so. "To the contrary," he confessed. "I like them already."

"We shall go separate ways," Mirage ordered. "You will find Shirogane if you enter the nearest tunnel and head in THAT direction." She pointed. "Meanwhile, I have other business here. I want to stir up some fear in someone else."

"It almost seems unfair that you should be able to keep so much from me," Sendak pointed out. "I don't know where you're going or how you knew how to find me. Nor do I know where these cats came from."

"Are you really going to argue with the person who saved your life?" Mirage asked him. "I think you know better than that."

"I do," Sendak admitted. "I only said it was ALMOST unfair."

"One last thing," Mirage concluded. "My name is Mirage. Call it if you should need me, and I will come."

Sendak's unspoken question hung heavy in the air: did she not see him as too expendable for that? Mirage's unspoken answer was not as easy to divine: you're my pet project, and it would be a shame to see you clipped so soon in the game.

Mirage vanished in a twinkle, and Sendak clambered down into the tunnel she had indicated. The cats vanished, but Sendak knew they would be ready to answer his call.

...

As the trolley rolled over the plains in the direction the compass, still clutched firmly in Snatcher's well-manicured hands, indicated, Roman prepared to explain Tyrian Callows. First, however, he declared "I need a smoke" and proceeded to light up a cigarette, filling the trolley interior with smoky stench and sending Mozenrath into a coughing fit.

"For goodness' sake, at least open a window," Yzma snapped.

"Fine." Roman took the Cudgel to hand, then used it to smash the nearest window's glass. The smoke was sucked out of the trolley car.

"…I suppose that works," Yzma sighed.

"So tell us more about this scorpion man," Aghoul cajoled.

"I guess I'm going to have to explain more about what my actual JOB was back on Remnant," Roman began. "I might have…let you all believe I was large and in charge as a crime lord."

"We'd all guessed Miss Fall had you under her heel," Snatcher interrupted.

"Yeah, well, I was actually lower on the chain than THAT," Roman admitted. "Cinder worked for somebody bigger and badder. Salem. Here's how it worked." He put a hand up high in the air. "Here's Salem." Another hand below it, his cigarette hanging from his mouth as he talked around it. "Cinder, Hazel Rainart, Arthur Watts, and Tyrian Callows." The first hand below that. "Emerald Sustrai and Mercury Black." The second hand below that. "Adam Taurus and me." He became aware that everyone in the car was staring at him in bewilderment save for Mozenrath and the Huntsman, the latter of whom would have been agape as well if he weren't driving. "Okay, what? What's the look for?"

"You're being serious," Wuya replied. "Very serious."

"This is the longest you've gone mentioning people by their actual names instead of nicknames!" Mim revealed.

"Yeah, well, this is serious business," Roman groaned, removing the cigarette from his lips. "Also, I'm fully aware that if I used my incredibly derogatory nicknames for everyone the whole time, you'd all lose track. So for the duration of this story, everyone is their real names, except Tyrian Callows, the subject of today's discussion, who shall be henceforth referred to as 'Fuckface.' And yes, that WAS his nickname before, but he never heard that because I didn't want to get pumped full of scorpion poison."

Everyone nodded. "That's fair" was murmured throughout.

"What WAS your eventual goal under this…Ms. Salem?" Snatcher asked.

"What WASN'T our goal?" Roman replied. "She was after these relic things. And these maidens of the seasons who could give her power. She was after everything. And I KNOW I don't even know how deep it went. Basically, she wanted to take control of Remnant, but not in the fun way like we do.

"I didn't put in too many appearances at HQ, but every time I did, Watts, Hazel, and Fuckface would try and tear me a new one. Verbally. Though it probably would also have been physically if we'd talked more. None of them liked me, all of them liked LAUGHING at me, and they referred to ME as the scum beneath their boots. Oh, but Fuckface? He was the worst of all of them. Called me a show-off, when…did you SEE the man back there? Talk about chewing the scenery." He took another long drag, spewing smoke throughout the trolley. "And that's how he was every single moment of every single day. Either monologuing or laughing like a hyena. If I didn't KNOW he was a scorpion Faunus, I seriously would have guessed hyena. Long story short, the limelight wasn't big enough for BOTH of us, and though we all know I'm the more quality product, he could pull seniority on me any time he wanted. He tried for a motion to have me disposed of MORE than once. And Salem actually considered it. She probably only let me slide because of my Semblance. Which NONE of you get to know, by the way."

"You know we're going to find out eventually," Mim threatened.

"No," Roman retorted. "You won't. I am taking it to my grave. Anyway, that's the story on Fuckface. I thought leaving Remnant meant we were saying goodbye to him for good. But APPARENTLY, I'm not that lucky."

"Of what level is he a threat?" the Huntsman asked.

"Not counting his new buddies?" Roman replied. "Because you know he's going to be leaning on Grim Reaper like a crutch. But on his own? Crazy-ass moves, rapid-fire gunshots, pretty good eye, REALLY likes carving things to pieces with those hunks of metal on his wrists, and tail full of slow and painful death."

"What about a Semblance?" the Huntsman prodded.

"Look, I wasn't kidding when I said I don't know how deep things went," Roman confessed. "They kept me in the dark more than half the time. The good news is HE doesn't know what MINE is. The bad news is I don't know what HIS is or if we are all royally fucked because of it. I just know that life with Fuckface is hell. Am I going to apologize for getting you wrapped up with him? No, because I can't wait to see the look on his face when he realizes I've brought actual sorcerers to play ball. But outside of that, if I NEVER see him again, it will be too fucking soon."

"Then, should we cross paths again, we shall simply have to instruct him in a very valuable lesson," Snatcher suggested. "Namely: why belittling and spitting on the name of Roman Torchwick is a very, VERY unwise decision."

"Say the word, and he's dead meat!" Mim said chipperly.

"I'd like to take a crack at wiping that smug grin off his face," Wuya added.

"Smug grins?" Peter contributed. "Theatricalities? Feats of physical dexterity in battle? This is SQUARELY my territory, and I don't believe I'm going to stand for anyone moving in on it."

"See, this is why the WHAM ARMY rocks way harder than Salem's little coven," Roman said with a smile. He leaned over onto Snatcher's shoulder. "And this one is hotter than all of them combined."

"Stop, you," Snatcher replied casually, though in truth, he was always hungry for flattery.

"So let me see if I've got this," Rémington broke in, raising a gun. He used it to gesture between Roman and Snatcher. "You two are involved."

"Absolutely," Roman confirmed.

"And you two are involved," Rémington went on, gesturing between Yzma and Wuya.

"Wh-wh-WHAT?" Yzma sputtered. "Wuya? ME? Of course not!"

"Huh," Rémington remarked. "I could have sworn."

"You should have sworn differently," Wuya huffed.

Rémington could have commented on how after that, Yzma and Wuya were making a deliberate attempt to avoid eye contact with one another, but he decided it was better not to comment, mostly because Grany poked his arm with a paw as a signifier for him to shut up about that subject. "And is it just me, or am I getting vibes between these two?" He gestured to Mozenrath and the Huntsman.

"The Huntsman?" Mozenrath reiterated; the Huntsman, who couldn't see the goings-on behind him due to keeping his eyes on his path, flinched. "Can't say I've ever thought about him. Not bad-looking, a kindred spirit…all the same, no flying sparks."

Because you don't remember all we've been through, the Huntsman thought, keeping his lips tightly sealed.

"Zero for three," Rémington remarked. "But then of course, there's me and my sweet sorcière." He batted his eyes toward Mim.

"Oh, stop, you despicable bouquet of belladonna," Mim replied, blushing and batting her own eyes right back. "But of course, there's also me and Ghoulie."

"What about you two?" Rémington blinked, surprised.

"We're courting," Aghoul explained, wrapping his clammy fingers through Mim's.

Rémington needed a double take for that. "So…you and him."

"Yes," Mim confirmed.

"But I thought…you and I…?"

"Also yes," Mim said nonchalantly.

"And he…doesn't mind?" Rémington asked.

"Not a bit," Aghoul replied. "You seem disgusting enough."

"Does this mean he and I have to…?"

"By Allah, no!" Aghoul flinched. "No offense, but I'm far out of your league."

"Note taken," Rémington said with a nod.

"Still into it?" Grany hissed.

"Actually…" Rémington shrugged. "Yes. It's worth it. Though…does this mean I get other women too?"

"Of course," Mim informed him. "Go crazy. Though I know you won't find anyone half as repulsive as me."

"I buy that," Rémington said with a grin. "No one can match up to you, sweet sorcière. Believe me, I've been looking for years, and you're the first one who's actually earned more than one night."

"Smooth move, lover boy," the gun taunted.

"You shut up," Rémington grunted, holstering it. He then used his now free hand to take Mim's other hand.

"I hate public displays of affection," Mozenrath huffed. "Can we get back to what we were doing in the first place? The Eliacube? Qilby?"

"The compass hasn't changed direction," Snatcher observed.

"But perhaps it SHOULD change hands," Yzma suggested.

"Let me take a look at that." Rémington got up and slid across the trolley's dividing line to glimpse the compass. "I think I know where we're going."

"And that would be?" Snatcher asked.

"Right now, it's pointed toward the Crimson Claws archipelago," Rémington informed him. "Looks like we're heading to pay Phaerys a visit after all."

"If it's a dragon's territory we are about to walk into," the Huntsman suggested, "perhaps it is best I hold the compass."

"We've got a ways to go before the dragon," Rémington clarified. "First, we have to find a way over the sea. Grany and I did have an interesting little craft. A machine that traveled underwater. Unfortunately, we ran into some craftsmanship issues – "  
"It sank," Grany interrupted. "I tried to warn him at least three times that we were sinking. He just kept driving."

"…And now we don't have it anymore," Rémington finished. "However, we are also headed in the direction most likely to yield us a new way across."

"Haven Port," Grany stated with a grin that highlighted his tiny fangs. "Home to pirates and rogues from the world over. If you put money in the right pocket, you'll have a boat. Though there are…other ways."

"Like punching the right face," Rémington clarified. "The entire operation is headed up by pirate lord Boris Eca. He lives on taxing everyone for everything. If you don't pay in kamas, you pay another way, if you get my drift. But I think a little visit from us should change his tune."

"So what you're saying," Mim reiterated, "is that we're about to enter the territory of all sorts of nasty and disgusting criminals?"

"Exactly," Grany concluded.

"MY TURN!" Mim shrieked, getting up to rip the compass out of Snatcher's hands. "It's my turn to hold the compass next! This sounds exactly like my kind of place!" She held the compass aloft.

"Well, there'll be no shutting you up unless you get your way," Snatcher grunted. "Might as well see just how badly you can steer us wrong."

"That sounds like a lovely time!" Mim gushed.

"I think the point is to actually get us in the direction of the Eliacube," Rémington argued.

"Oh, hush, you!" Mim said dismissively, lightly shoving Rémington aside. "It's my turn now, and you all have to do what I say!"

Grany noticed the flush of color overtaking Rémington's face and sighed deeply. His brother was hooked for every reason Grany thought was a deal-breaker.

"I have to admit I'm getting a little turned on right now," Rémington muttered.

"DON'T," Mozenrath growled. "I don't want to hear it."

"Can I at least suggest one stop along the way?" Aghoul asked.

"I'll take it into consideration," Mim said haughtily. "No promises."

"Somewhere to change clothes," Aghoul suggested. "I'm sure I speak for all of us when I say we're NOT changing in front of everyone else."

They'd all forgotten for a moment that they were still wearing their disguises; it took a moment for this to sink in.

"Well, I agree for the most part," Roman stated. "I wouldn't mind if Archie ripped this dress right off me, but everyone else? Not happening."

"Nor would I be opposed to Torchwick taking his sweet time unlacing – " Snatcher began.

He was cut off by Mozenrath's "AAAAAAAAAAAARGH! I SAID I DIDN'T WANT TO HEAR IT!" as he covered his ears for dramatic effect.

"All right, steamy talk stops now before Mozenrath has a temper tantrum," Yzma demanded.

"I AM NOT HAVING A TEMPER TANTRUM!" Mozenrath insisted.

"Right," Yzma corrected. "Steamy talk stops before Mozenrath expresses slight distaste."

The sarcasm was lost on Mozenrath.

"All right," Mim relented. "A quick stop to change clothes, then it's on to the den of pirates and thieves! Oh, we're going to have SUCH a good time!"

Rémington made his way back to his seat, but was waved down by Mozenrath. Curious, Rémington plopped down next to the young sorcerer. "Yes?"

"The Eliacube," Mozenrath asked. "We're looking for it because it has a connection to time. That got me wondering: does it actually facilitate time travel?"

"Well, they say Nox, the Xelor – that's a time wizard – wanted to use it to reverse time for centuries," Rémington explained.

"And did he succeed?"  
"Yes. In reversing time by twelve seconds."

"Oh."  
"Apparently the cube can turn back time," Rémington went on, "but it consumes more energy than would make it worth it. Better just to take it for your spell."

"Duly noted," Mozenrath said, a little disappointed.

The Huntsman slowed the trolley as soon as he spotted civilization on the horizon. "I, for one," he muttered, "will be glad to stop feeling so exposed." The open air on his face was a strange sensation.

"One of these days," Snatcher cajoled, "you really must try the skirt, Huntsman. It's quite freeing."

"Actually, it is," Mozenrath confessed. "Not that I'm not ready to get back to my usual attire."

"I shall cut you a deal," the Huntsman promised. "If Mozenrath ever restores his memories from before, I shall give a skirt a trial run."

Everyone was happy with this.

...

Xerxes had gotten lost.

Very lost.

He was sure he wasn't even supposed to be where he was. A couple impossibly wrong turns and he seemed to have found himself in a vastly different realm from what he had just been experiencing. Gone were the warming sunshine and the lush green isles, and the gently pulsing ocean had become the roof over his head. Now, all sorts of creatures were after him, a tentacle snaking out here, a bubblegum-pink tongue shooting out there, hairy claws groping to seize him and make a meal out of him.

He hastily sought out a place to hide, coming across a tucked-away cavern. As soon as he sped inside, he realized that all the monsters had stopped trying to capture him for the day's entrée. They must have given up, he thought.

It didn't occur to Xerxes that perhaps, the cave was home to something bigger and even more terrifying.

The eel stopped to get his bearings, still clutching the star shard tightly between his teeth. He then realized he had wandered into a veritable treasure trove. The floor of the cavern was littered with gold and gems, stacked up into a high mound. Xerxes hovered low to the surface, scanning for items of interest. There was nothing he wanted to trade in his star shard for, but between all the jewelry, dishware, and other decorative items, he figured at least some of it had to be magic. And magic was always of interest to Mozenrath. Xerxes had learned to keep an eye out for it.

Perhaps there was something he could take as well as the shard instead of having to trade one for another. He was very attached to the crystal, not even knowing of the power it had that had transported him to this world in the first place. But a string of multicolored beads caught Xerxes' fancy, and he figured it wouldn't be too much of a hassle to get it around what passed for his neck. He pressed his head to the ground, wriggling to get it up under the beads.

In response, the entire mound of treasure shivered, rising up. Xerxes sped away at the sudden earthquake, abandoning the beads. He zoomed toward the exit, suddenly realizing there was probably a reason no one and nothing had taken advantage of all the magical treasure simply lying around.

His tail was pinched, and he was jerked backward with intense force. Xerxes flailed, finally spinning around to see what exactly had gotten him. His tail was caught between the very tips of an enormous set of pincers belonging to what Xerxes could now see was a gigantic coconut crab; what Xerxes had taken for a mound of treasure was actually the crab's decorated shell with a layer of valuables on top. The creature was proportioned such that he could have swallowed Mozenrath whole.

"Well, well, well," the crab taunted. "What do we have here? Some little vermin trying to steal out of my collection? You must be new here. Every monster in Lalotai knows that's not allowed unless they want to get eaten."

Xerxes tried to sputter an apology, but the shard in his mouth muffled it.

"Speak up," the crab demanded. "I can't hear you around that thing in your mouth. What is that thing in your mouth, anyway? Wait. That's a – " He gasped dramatically. "That is a star shard! I've been wanting one of those! I will be taking THAT!"

Xerxes shook his head in protest as the crab's other claw reached up and, with great delicacy, pinched the tiny shard, tearing it out of Xerxes' mouth to toss into the pile of treasures on the crab's back, where it was temporarily lost from view.

"No!" Xerxes protested. "Xerxes' treasure!"

"With this star shard," the crab chuckled, "I will finally be able to travel the worlds and collect the magical, valuable, and oh-so-SHINY treasures they have to offer!"

"Star shard?" Xerxes repeated. "Travel worlds?"

"That's what a star shard does," the crab replied dryly. "You did know that, didn't you? You didn't know that. You were carrying around a star shard and you didn't even know what it did. Don't tell me it transported you to a whole new world and you didn't even notice."

"Things suddenly make lot more sense now," Xerxes admitted.

"Well, you won't be needing it anymore," the crab went on. "First off, it's mine now. And second, you're about to become an afternoon snack."

"NO!" Xerxes screamed. "NO NO NO! NO EAT XERXES! XERXES…POISONOUS!"

"That's what the last three monsters I cannibalized said," the crab sighed, "and two of them weren't even making it up." He began to guide Xerxes to his mouth. "Stop that. Stop that squirming. You're just going to make it harder for both of us."

"Xerxes…uh…" The eel frantically searched the recesses of his brain for an answer to his plight. "Xerxes want to know where you get treasure from!"

The crab halted. "What did you just say?"

"Xerxes say…crab seem like very big and powerful crab!" Xerxes said quickly. "Xerxes want know how crab get so powerful!"

"Are you just trying to get me to talk about myself…?" the crab asked suspiciously.

"May…be?"

"Because I remember what happened last time someone did that," the crab growled. He then immediately perked up: "And odds are, it is NOT going to happen twice in a row!" He flung Xerxes against the back wall. "Just let me set the stage, and I have a perfect song chosen for the occasion!"

Before Xerxes could snap out of his daze, the crab had moved an enormous slab of rock over the cave entrance. Xerxes' eyes darted about, seeking another means of egress. There was a hole in the ceiling that led to the ocean above. Perhaps he could escape that way if he could hold his breath long enough. But first, he wanted his star shard back. Now that he knew what it could do, he realized he needed it. It could very well have been his only way home. (He had forgotten about his new collar.)

"Now that that's in order," the crab announced, "my song all about me! The last people I sang it to didn't like it. Can you believe it? No accounting for taste whatsoever." After a pause, he launched into music: "Well, Tamatoa hasn't always been this glam! I was a drab little crab once! But now I know I can be happy as a clam – "

Xerxes didn't care about the lyrics one single solitary bit. What he cared about was finding his star shard. He hovered over the back of the now dancing crab, blinking rapidly to avoid being blinded by the shine of the treasures glinting off the walls. To and fro he went, looking for that small shine of blue.  
"SHINY! Like a treasure from a sunken pirate wreck!" the crab crooned. "Scrub the deck and make it look SHINY! I will sparkle like a wealthy woman's neck!"

Xerxes spotted it.

And someone else spotted Xerxes.

While Xerxes had ended up in Lalotai, realm of monsters, through pure confusion, Diablo had made it there through pure determination. The raven, soaking wet, shot downward from the hole in the ceiling like a torpedo.

Xerxes let out a cry of distress as Diablo pinned him to the crab (apparently "Tamatoa")'s back. The raven slashed out with claws and beak alike; Xerxes squirmed out of Diablo's grasp before he could be mangled.

"What's going on up there?" Tamatoa barked. "I'm not finished, you know!"

The star shard came back into view; Xerxes made a beeline before clamping his teeth down over it. Diablo seized the eel's tail in both claws, cawing triumphantly.

The star shard glittered, then glowed. And suddenly, neither raven nor eel was present on that world anymore.

Tamatoa paused in surprise. He was now down his latest treasure and his most recent audience member. "…Rude."

...

The WHAM ARMY trolley rolled into a port city nestled beneath clear blue skies. Buildings stacked their way up hillsides and towered over docks that curved round the corners forged by oddly placed rock formations, giving the city a sense of great height and complexity. Bright colors festooned the wooden walls, but none of the buildings was kempt, all sporting peeling paint and splintering planks.

The trolley's occupants spilled out; Wuya phased the trolley out of existence with a wave of the hand. The eleven began a trek down the dockside, eyeing up the ships.

"We'll take the best one we can get," Rémington announced.

At the same time, Mim declared that "We'll take the worst one we can get!"

"The worst one is run by Encre Noir," Rémington said with a shudder. "You don't want to deal with him. In a den of thieves and pirates, he and his daughter are the only ones with a sense of honor. Though the daughter is pretty."

"We're certainly not having anything to do with HONOR!" Mim declared. "We'll take the SECOND worst ship we can get!"

They found the vessel they were looking for. It hardly looked as though it could stay afloat. And when the Huntsman set a single foot upon it, a resounding CRACK was audible before the ship began to sink.

"Shall we keep moving, then?" Ragdoll suggested.

Finally, the eleven arrived at a boat that was worn and rickety enough to fit Mim's aesthetic but solid enough to carry them some distance. The deck was being mopped – with muddy water and a dirty mop – by a pirate with catlike features, pointed ears and all.

"Hey, Ecaflip!" Rémington called out. "Who do we have to talk to to buy this boat?"

"We could just steal it," Roman whispered to Mim. "Knock this one guy out and sail off into the horizon."

"Yes, but where would be the fun in that?" Mim asked. "I'm not leaving until we get a good bout of violence in!"

"The pirate lord has control over this ship," the Ecaflip crewman informed the group. "You want to sail it, you'll have to talk to him." He grinned. "Though he's not going to let you walk away with it so easily."

"I should hope not," Ragdoll taunted. "You can't really WALK away over the ocean, now, can you?"

"Wise guy, huh?" the Ecaflip responded. "Actually, if you weren't dressed like a Xelor, I might mistake you for…"

He then got a good look at Rémington and Grany and began to laugh. "It's you! It's actually you!"

"He knows you," Mozenrath commented. "That's not good, is it?"

"It's fine," Rémington stated. "If he knows me, he knows what I'm capable of doing. And he knows I'm more than a match for Boris Eca."

That sent the Ecaflip into even louder laughter. "Just go downtown," he managed in between guffaws. "The pirate lord…he'll want to see you!"

"Gladly," Mim said haughtily. "We want to see him!"

"Oh, I bet you will!" the Ecaflip continued to chortle.

"Something's off here," Mozenrath observed as the entire group walked back down the dock. "He found that far too amusing."

"Not too late to knock him out and leave," Roman suggested.

"I have the compass!" Mim reminded everyone. "And we're doing this my way! Rémington, lead the way!"

"At once, sweet sorcière," Rémington said obediently, taking the lead of the group.

Downtown was found over a maze of docks; the buildings here were mostly fashioned out of the remainders of old ships. Two muscular guards stood before the largest structure.

"Take it away," Rémington said softly, gesturing toward the door.

Mim stomped right up to the bulky guards. "Let us in," she commanded.

Both guards looked to her, then to the rest of the group, then to one another. They broke out in equally wide smiles. "Of course!" they said as one.

"That's what I was HOPING you'd say!" Mim crowed, beginning to roll up her sleeve…before realizing they'd said exactly the opposite of what she expected. "Wait a minute, no! That's NOT what I was hoping you'd say! I was hoping you'd say 'no' so I could knock both your lights out!"

"How could we possibly deny Rémington and Grany Smisse entry?" one of the guards said, grinning wide.

"By all means," the other said. "Enter as our GUESTS." He stepped aside and gestured at the door.

"I don't like this, Rémy," Grany hissed. "Something's very, very wrong here!"

"Hush," Rémington told him. "They're just having a little bit of fun with us. It's not our fault our reputation precedes us. Boris Eca probably wants to be able to say he bested the brothers Smisse."

"Did you hear that?" the first guard said, trying not to break out laughing. "He said BORIS ECA probably wants to best them!"

"Rémy!" Grany hissed. "Let's just leave!"

"No," Rémington insisted.

"This better not be about you following that woman!" Grany yowled.

"And if it is?" Rémington countered.

"Then there's no saving you," Grany sighed.

"Well, you're very kind to let us in with hardly an invitation," Mim informed the guards. "There's just one little problem. I came here looking to knock some lights out. And if you're going to make it too easy for us, we're at least going to PRETEND we had a hard time bringing you into submission."

She held up a fist. Rémington held up both guns. Roman held up the Cudgel. Snatcher held up his own weapon. The Huntsman held up the huntstaff. Mozenrath held up his glowing right hand. Wuya held up both hands, glowing. Yzma held up her atlatl. Aghoul held up a scythe. Ragdoll held up a hand and waved, mouthing the word "goodbye!".

From inside, the patrons of the seedy bar heard the brief scuffle before the unconscious bodies of both guards were thrown through the door to herald Mim's entrance. "All right, you ruffians!" she called out, the rest of the WHAM ARMY striding in behind her. "Which one of you is Boris Eca?"

There was a moment of silence. Then the sudden uproar of everyone in the bar bursting into laughter at once.

"Boris Eca!" one of the patrons laughed. "He was run out of town two years ago!"

"But we were told to beat up the – to talk to the pirate lord about getting a ship to sail to the Crimson Claws archipelago," Mim argued.

"Oh, there's a pirate lord all right," the patron explained. "But it's not Boris Eca!"

Another patron was knocking on one of the back doors. "Guess who's here to see you?" he called out. "Little Rémy and Grany!"

Realization hit both of the Smisse brothers at once: "You…don't think…"

"I'm starting to think!"

The back door slammed open. A tall man, tanned and muscular, dressed in the black of a rogue, stormed out. "Rémy and Grany," he greeted with a leer, fixing his eyes upon the brothers Smisse. "It's been too long!"

"Who is this?" Mim asked.

"The pirate lord," the patron informed her. "Smisse Mond."

"Relative of yours?" Roman asked Rémington.

"Distantly," Rémington said coldly.

"Oh, come on, Rémy!" Mond laughed. "We're family, aren't we? Just because I'm stronger, smarter, and more successful than you shouldn't mean hard feelings!"

"Oh yeah?" Grany countered. "I was stronger and smarter than you, remember? Want me to put you in your place, just like I did in old times when you would talk smack about Rémy?"

"Put me in my place!" Mond repeated. "You're a Bow Meow, Grany. I could snap your spine with my boot if I wanted. But we ARE family, so I won't do that. I'll just kick you into the ocean instead. You can still swim, right?"

Rémington swept Grany up into his arms protectively.

Mond burst out into guffaws. "YOU protecting HIM! Now that's rich! How about I kick you BOTH into the ocean?"

"You knock that off this second!" Mim barked. "I'm the only one who gets to talk to Rémy like that!"

"And what are you going to do to me – " Mond's eyes traveled down to rest on Mim. "You…ugly, ugly woman?"

"Don't you try and flatter me!" Mim snapped, grabbing the front of Mond's shirt and pulling him down to her level. "We want a ship, and we're not leaving until we get it!"

"A ship, huh?" Mond repeated. "We might be able to work something out."

"I don't want to work things out!" Mim barked. "I want to FORCE you to hand over that ship!"

"At least hear out my terms," Mond told Mim. "You may just find them appealing."

"I doubt it," Mim huffed, letting go of Mond. "But let's hear it out."

Mond straightened up to full height. "Six years ago, Boris Eca gave away one of his prized ships to a tiny little boy, a frail old man, a freak of nature, and a delicate little girl," he announced. "They beat him at four competitions of skill. I am willing to let my relatives here take any ship of mine they want if they can beat me at these four competitions. They are: eating a whole pot of the house special, arm wrestling, mental arithmetic, and skill shooting."

"Rémyyyyyyy!" Grany hissed. "I could have had a shot at beating him at some of those things, but you can't beat him in a single one of those things!"

"Well, I propose an addition to the challenge!" Mim barked. "Rémy and Grany won't have to beat you at anything…if his partners in crime can! That's us!"

Mond looked over the motley group. "You?" His eyes traveled across the others. "That young brat with only one glove? That old purple man? That old woman who's practically falling apart? That beanpole Xelor? That skinny carrot-top kid? That fat old man? That…" He paused. "That…redhead…"

Mond cut through the crowd, sweeping Wuya up into his arms. "My darling," he told her, "you are far too gorgeous of a flower to be seen with this group of hideous people. Come with me. Be my pirate queen. All I ask is that you serve me three meals a day and rub my feet whenever I ask, and I shall be your – "

It took him a moment to register what happened next. Wuya had struck, and while he hadn't believed it possible of a woman of her stature, Mond was suffering intense pain in his jaw and stomach, and Wuya had wrenched out of his grip to stand back on the floor. "Try that again and I'll rip that jawbone right off," she growled.

"Hmph." Mond adjusted his jaw, taking a look at the last member of the group. "I'll accept your terms on one condition." He pointed to the Huntsman. "He can't compete. We want this to be a FAIR challenge, after all."

"I think you'll find those terms are somewhat different from your definition of 'fair,'" the Huntsman replied. In our favor, he added mentally.

"Rémy," Mond said with a grin, "Grany, you sure have found yourselves a pathetic pack of rogues to follow you. The one in the skull helmet looks like the only one with any skill whatsoever."

"We'll just let the results speak for themselves," Rémington huffed.

"Yeah!" Grany punctuated.

"Then let the contest begin!" Mond declared. "Order up a round of drinks!"

As two pots filled to the brim with what looked like sludge mixed with the dismembered body parts of raw sea creatures, eyeballs included, were brought out to the table, along with a flagon of beer for each and every one of Mond's cheering squad, Mim pulled Mozenrath aside. "You want to have some real fun?" she whispered to him.

"I guess," Mozenrath replied. "What did you have in mind?"

Mond spotted Mim and Mozenrath whispering. "Do you have a first contestant or not?" he barked.

"Yes, we do!" Mim announced proudly, hopping forward as Mozenrath faded into the background. "And it's me!"

Roman reached over and tapped the arm of the waiter distributing beers. "I'll have one of those."

"You pay double," the waiter grunted.

"Yeah, yeah," Roman huffed, searching his pocket. "Wait a second. What happened to my – "

"I'll foot his bill," Ragdoll offered, emptying out a bulging purse.

As the waiter left the beer and moved on across the room, Roman glared at Ragdoll. "Did you just pick my pocket to spot my beer?"

"Yes."

"WHY?"

"Because it was fun."

"Eh, can't argue with that logic." Roman turned a chair around to straddle it backward, taking a deep draught.

"You're having ANOTHER beer?" Yzma commented. "You just got over your last hangover!"

"Geez, Mom, I'm just having the one," Roman replied.

"FOR THE LAST TIME, I AM NO ONE'S MOTHER!" Yzma yowled.

Mim and Mond squared off at opposite ends of the table. The pots of slimy stew were set before them. "On your mark!" the server who'd brought the food, or at least what the pirates tried to rebrand as "food," called out. "Get ready! Aaaaaand…CHOW DOWN!"

Mond and Mim plunged spoons into the pots, eagerly wolfing down the disgusting dregs. At first, it seemed like an even contest, but after so much, it was apparent that Mond was slowing down, repugnance clear across his face. Mim, however, genuinely enjoyed the taste of the slightly edible slop, and she quite forgot after a while that eating it was a contest.

Mond ended up staring at the last few spoonfuls of the food in the pot, trying not to throw up what he'd just forced down. Mim polished her portion off, momentarily giving herself a hummingbird-length tongue to lick out the inside of the pot. "That was delightful!" she crowed. "Can I have the recipe?" This was punctuated with a loud and rude belch.

One victory was declared.

"You doing all right on your own?" Mim asked Mozenrath as she returned to his side.

"Well," he admitted, "I'm not sure I have quite the touch you do."

Wuya took the seat across from Mond, staring him down. She slammed one arm, elbow first, down onto the tabletop. "Let's go," she demanded.

"Give me but a moment to caress your delicate fingers first," Mond cajoled.

"Don't make me break them," Wuya threatened. "We want the skill shooting contest to be fair, don't we?"

Mond put down his own arm, elbow first. "On the count of three," the food server, acting as the official referee, declared. "One! Two! THREE!"

Mond and Wuya locked hands. On their own, they were an even match; Mond wrote off his struggle to being distracted by Wuya's beauty, when in reality, she just had enough raw strength from her years of practice in battle to hold him back. However, in order to take the win, she knew a little bit of cheating was in order.

Mond felt a sudden jolt of electricity run through the muscles of his arm, rendering him unable to hold it up. Wuya slammed it down onto the table. "Looks like I win," she bragged.

"I'm just…having an off day," Mond told her. "How can you expect me to keep my concentration when I'm looking at – "

"There are several body parts you WON'T need in order to continue this contest," Wuya growled.

"Which we will be more than happy to help her remove should your commentary continue," the Huntsman backed up, brandishing his spear.

Mond didn't say a word as Wuya walked back into the crowd.

"I must say I'm flattered," Aghoul told her. "You've never threatened to dismember me."

"First of all, because I know it won't work," Wuya told him. "Second of all, don't push your luck. And third, I like you."

"And when you say 'like' – "

"Like the annoying brother I never wanted."

Mozenrath took his place at the seat next. "So you're the one who's supposed to be smarter than me?" Mond asked.

"Do your worst," Mozenrath demanded.

"Let's start by assuming I have an honest job that pays me 2,501 kamas a week," Mond stated. "After working for 500 weeks, I loan a friend twelve percent of my earnings for ten percent of the time. I put a rate of three percent interest on the loan…"

On and on he went, adding complication after complication to the question. Mozenrath added each new fact to a space he'd cleared out to act as a bulletin board, moving figures around as though rearranging pages and combining them with imaginary staples.

"…and taking that into account, how many times can I rent that ship with my net gain?" Mond concluded.

It took Mozenrath a few minutes of nail-biting silence to move the last figures into place. "I'd say you have about enough to rent it fifty times," he said at last. "Actually, closer to 50.785, but there's really no point in renting 785-thousandths of a boat, is there? But I'm guessing you didn't know that. You spent so much time making the question as complicated as possible, you didn't bother to figure out the answer yourself."

"That's not true!" Mond snapped. "It's…it's…"

He looked back to his cheering squad, who had brought out abacuses to make the tally. "It looks like it's just under fifty-one," one of them stated after hard calculation.

"You idiot!" Mond barked. "You're supposed to lie to make it look like he got it wrong!"

"Now, here's one for you," Mozenrath responded. "Say I have rented a ship, but instead of traveling the sea, I'm going upriver. It takes me five hours…"

He then launched into his own set of complications, aiming to make his word problem just as complex as if not more so than Mond's. He watched Mond grow more and more concerned the longer he went on.

"In conclusion," Mozenrath asked, "which boat wins the race? Mine, Mim's, Wuya's, Roman's, or yours?"

"…Yours?" Mond guessed. "Actually, it is DEFINITELY yours. I know that, being that I'm so smart!"

"Mim's and Roman's tie," Mozenrath said definitively as he got up from the table. "Idiot."

"Well, you won't beat me at shooting!" Mond growled, drawing his gun. "Watch how I land my shot straight through the heart of a moving target!"

It took Mozenrath a moment to process, as he was walking away, that Mond was referring to him. In that moment, a gunshot rang out. A blast connected with Mond's weapon without doing any damage to his hand, causing the pirate lord to drop the gun to the floor.

"Hope you don't mind I borrowed your cousin's gun," Roman said casually, twirling Rémington's pistol in his hand. "See, I figured the goal here was pinpoint accuracy, NOT blowing up as much as possible, which is kinda what I had in mind when I designed the Cudgel."

Mond simply stared at him in disbelief.

"And, see, I thought for our contest, we'd be using darts or knives or something and those targets on the wall over there," Roman continued, motioning to a set of bullseye targets mounted on the far wall. "And I was expecting to have to do something like this – "

He shot directly through the center of the first target from where he sat.

"Or this – "

The second target received a similar shot.

"Or even this!"

The remaining of the targets were shot in quick succession.

"Buuuuuut I guess you wanna do things the hard way," Roman went on. "Then again, you are more of a sword guy, it looks like." He eyed the dual cutlasses sheathed at Mond's waist, one on either side. "Let's not bring a knife to a gun fight, okay?"

Two more shots, and the cutlass holsters were detached from Mond's belt, the swords clanging to the floor.

"I rest my case," Roman said as he handed the gun back over to Rémington. "Unless you want to try putting holes in any more of my friends. In which case…" He picked up the Cudgel. "Did I mention this thing was designed to blow up EVERYTHING?"

"All right, all right," Mond relented. "You win. I won't even compete. Just have the victory."

"And I did all of that slightly drunk," Roman bragged as he took another deep drink of beer.

"So, I'm guessing you want to hear what you've won," Mond announced.

Mozenrath shot a glance to Mim. She shook her head, mouthing the word "Stall."

"Actually," Mozenrath told Mond, "I want to make it a little more interesting. One more challenge…and I get to name it."

"All right," Mond agreed.

"You're not even going to ask what it is?"

"I'm confident I can beat you at it," Mond boasted.

"Oh, it won't be me you'll have to beat," Mozenrath said slyly, recalling one of the pieces of trivia Roman had told him during their drunken and caffeinated night in Brakmar. "It'll be my man Archibald Snatcher."

"Hello," Snatcher said teasingly, waving.

"HIM?" Mond let out a solid laugh. "He doesn't look like he's worth even an eighth of his weight in gold! Tell you what. I'll challenge your man to the game of your choice. Fighting, shooting, eating, math, whatever. And when I win, I don't just keep my boat. I get your redhead."

"WHAT?" Wuya seethed.

"Deal," Mozenrath said smugly.

"MOZENRATH!" Wuya growled.

"Relax," Mozenrath told her. "We're not going to lose."

"So what's the name of the game?" Mond asked. "Cards? Knives?"

"Singing," Mozenrath stated. "You win if you can sing a higher note than him."

A brief moment of regret flashed across Mond's face. Then, faking confidence, he said, "Done."

The following event saw him squeaking to eke out a flat note while Snatcher confidently held one note higher, then continued to rise.

Mim gave Mozenrath a nod, and Mozenrath strode forward to meet the thoroughly defeated Mond. "It looks like we win," Mozenrath stated. "Now give us our boat."

"You know what?" Mond replied with a leer. "I've changed my mind. I'm not going to let you have the boat after all."

"YOU LYING, DIRTY – " Wuya pounded her fist on a table.

Mozenrath held up a hand in her direction. "Just wait."

"We're pirates!" Mond continued. "Dirty lying is how we do business! Now, I think we should have a celebratory toast before we put these interlopers to bed with the fishes!"

"Even us?" Rémington asked shakily.

"Of course not," Mond told his relative. "We're family! I'm not going to leave either of you to die! I'm just going to chain you up and have you watch me drown the others. You should know better by now than to run with a band of rogues that isn't family, Rémy. Though, Grany, I might throw you out to sea as far as I can just for a little fun. You'll survive, I think. Bow Meows can swim, right?"

"Just get to the toast," Mozenrath said coldly.

"To cheating!" Mond announced, raising his glass high. He and everyone else in the room save for the WHAM ARMY – now including Rémington and Grany – took long, deep swigs.

"Mim?" Mozenrath prompted. "Would you like to do the honors?"

"We thought you might feel that way about us winning," Mim explained. "That's why we poisoned all your beers when you weren't looking!"

Mond set down his now empty flagon, giving Mim a confused look. "You what…?"

As the two pots had been brought out to the table, along with a flagon of beer for each and every one of Mond's cheering squad, Mim pulled Mozenrath aside. "You want to have some real fun?" she whispered to him.

"I guess," Mozenrath replied. "What did you have in mind?"

"He's not going to let us have the boat whether we win or not," Mim whispered. "I say we poison him and his whole crew!"

"You know this for sure? Or are you just looking for an excuse to poison somebody?"

"Does it matter? Besides, I'm the only one who gets to tell off my Rémy! I can poison each and every flagon here with just a simple touch. And I bet you can too! Just think the nastiest, most despicable thoughts you can muster up while stirring the beer with your finger! Give it a try!"

Mond spotted Mim and Mozenrath whispering. "Do you have a first contestant or not?" he barked.

"Yes, we do!" Mim announced proudly, hopping forward as Mozenrath faded into the background. "And it's me!"

As Mim bounced forward, Mozenrath stalked around the room, waiting for each of Mond's cronies to leave their drink unattended. He then dipped in a finger, willing up the Darkest magic he could think of; the liquid seemed to darken a shade. He wasn't altogether confident he hadn't just created an elixir to induce a strong coma instead of death.

It seemed to take altogether too long for Mim to finish up the eating contest. "You doing all right on your own?" Mim asked Mozenrath as she returned to his side.

"Well," he admitted, "I'm not sure I have quite the touch you do."

"Oh, you'll get the hang of it!" Mim told him with a sharp clap on the back; nether paid much attention to Wuya stepping up to the plate to arm wrestle Mond. "I'm sure you've slated several people for a nasty and painful death already! But don't worry. Now you've got me on your side, and murder is my specialty!"

Together, Mozenrath and Mim split up, seeking unattended drinks set down in the heat of watching the competition in order to taint them. Mozenrath was briefly called away to match wits with Mond at math, after which he returned to his sordid task.

Roman humbled Mond with his shooting display. "And I did all of that slightly drunk," Roman bragged as he took another deep drink of beer.

"So, I'm guessing you want to hear what you've won," Mond announced.

Mozenrath shot a glance to Mim. She shook her head, mouthing the word "Stall." She had only a few glasses left to go.

And so he suggested the fifth challenge. By the time it took Snatcher to outperform Mond with his musical ability, Mim had finished the job. And when Mond had delivered the news that he intended to show Mozenrath a watery grave instead of a boat…

"We thought you might feel that way about us winning. That's why we poisoned all your beers when you weren't looking!"

Mond set down his now empty flagon, giving Mim a confused look. "You what…?"

He was then seized by paralysis, saliva foaming at his mouth. He clutched his throat with both hands; he knocked the flagon to the floor, where it crashed open. The others in the room – everyone save Mim, Mozenrath, Yzma, the Huntsman, Snatcher, Roman, Aghoul, Wuya, Ragdoll, Rémington, and Grany – experienced the same phenomenon, muscles seizing up and shuddering with pain as their spit drooled unbidden out of their mouths. Within five minutes, they had all hit the floor, stone dead.

Mim doubled over in hysterical laughter. "They didn't even see that COMING!" she howled.

"MIM!" Roman screamed. "ARE YOU SERIOUS?"

"What?" Mim rebutted. "Don't tell me you grew a conscience about these filthy pirates!"

"No!" Roman argued. "I set down my beer next to someone else's when I picked up Rémy's gun to kick that jerkass' jerk ass at shooting, and I didn't know which glass was mine! So I figure it's not gonna KILL ME to drink out of somebody else's beer, and I just pick a glass! You could have killed ME!"

"Mozenrath could have just brought you back," Aghoul reminded him.

"Still don't remember how to do that," Mozenrath pointed out.

"Oh, you're fine," Mim said dismissively. "Obviously, you DIDN'T pick the wrong glass, or you'd be on the floor with the rest of them. Now come on! We have a boat to commandeer! Actually, we probably have ALL the boats now!"

"You know I love it when you commit mass homicide," Aghoul said sweetly, wrapping his arms around Mim's neck from behind and clasping his hands above her chest.

"And there's more where that came from," Mim promised him, turning to kiss him on the cheek.

"Well," Ragdoll remarked as he looked over the corpses, "times like these, only one thing you can say."

"Mister Twister, don't," Roman groaned. "Everyone's dead. There is absolutely no reason for you to say – "

"TOODLES!" Ragdoll called out as he exited the bar. The others began to file out.

"Toodles?" Mozenrath remarked. "That's an annoying catchphrase."

"Get used to it, Lord Mozenrath," Snatcher sighed.

Soon, all had left but Rémington and Grany.

"I…can't believe it," Rémington said shakily. "She…she killed everyone in here. I…I think…"

"I think maybe we should ditch these people before they decide to do that to US," Grany argued.

"…I think I love her," Rémington concluded.

"WHAT?" Grany shrieked. "She killed one of our relatives! There's supposed to be no closer bond than a rogue family, remember? How can you still – "  
"Grany," Rémington interrupted, "tell me something. Are you really, REALLY, honestly going to miss Mond?"

"Well…no…"

"She did this FOR us," Rémington insisted. "She said she's the only one who gets to threaten me." He smiled. "They all did this for us. I think they think THEY'RE our rogue family now."

"There's just no talking sense into you, is there?" Grany sighed.

"If you want to leave," Rémington told him, "you're free to go."

"Then who would look after you?" Grany protested. "I'm not leaving you alone with these psychopaths!"

"Oh, Rémy!" Mim called back into the bar. "Are you coming or not?"

"At once, sweet sorcière!" Rémington responded, and Grany didn't protest as Rémington carried him out after the rest of the WHAM ARMY.

As the rickety but functional boat containing the eleven set out to sea, Mozenrath and Mim looked out over the rear railing.

"You're…really something," Mozenrath told Mim. "You might just be the most dangerous person I've ever met."

"Now, coming from you, I know that's not just flattery," Mim said with a smile.

"We tried thievery. We tried diplomacy. And your way to solve a problem was to murder an entire room full of people."

"Fun, isn't it?"

"Actually, it was," Mozenrath confessed. "Liberating, too. And definitely cutting the Gordian knot. Things are never boring with you around, are they?"

"If they are, I'm not doing my job right," Mim bragged. "Speaking of which…this. All this. It's missing something."

"What?" Mozenrath asked, looking back at all the ships lined up in an orderly fashion at the edge of the harbor that was rapidly diminishing in perspective size. "A giant fire on all those ships?"

"Yes! That's EXACTLY it!"

"That was a joke – "

Mim waved her hand, and every boat within her field of vision was suddenly set aflame. A cacophony of screams rose up from the harbor, then faded from audibility as the WHAM ARMY ship kept on sailing.

Mozenrath stared, wide-eyed, for a moment. Then he confessed, "That was actually really satisfying to watch."

"I know, right?"

And the ship disappeared over the horizon as Haven Port went up in flames.


	40. Where Are You From?

A/N: The setting of the next stop in Xerxes' escapade takes place in a certain cartoon. The timeline is sometime during season 2 of said cartoon.

40\. Where Are You From?

The ship bearing Mozenrath, Mim, the Huntsman, Yzma, Wuya, Aghoul, Snatcher, Roman, Ragdoll, Rémington, and Grany was left without bother by the elements, sailing along coolly on calm waters beneath blue, sunny skies. This was probably the worst possible condition for travel.

"I hate calm waters," Mim grumbled to herself for the thousandth time. "And I hate, hate, HAAAAATE sunshine!"

"You've never used the sun to fry bugs through a glass?" Rémington asked as he sidled up to her. "That seems like something you'd like."

"Well…perhaps there is ONE good use of sunshine," Mim confessed. "But as it is, there's no one around to fry. Unless we pull a fish out of the ocean, but we won't even need the sun to watch it suffer."

"Could just let it flop around," Rémington suggested. "It'd make a good dinner afterward." His gaze traveled to the compass in Mim's hand. "So you're still passing this around as a symbol of who's in charge?"

"Yup!" Mim nodded.

There were so many things Rémington wanted to say. Such as thanking her for standing up for him against Mond, or congratulating her on her ability to eat copious amounts of disgusting food. But Rémington was never one for straightforward sentiment. There was only one way he knew of to express these things, and it filled him with glee to do so. He swiped the compass out of Mim's hand, holding it high above his head. "Too bad," he told her. "Looks like I'm the leader now."

"Very funny, Rémy," Mim replied, holding out her open hand. "Now put it back."

"No, I'm serious," Rémington insisted. "I want to run this show for a while. You had your turn."

Mim made a grab; Rémington held the compass as high as he could above his head. "Coming up short, are we?" he laughed.

Mim, fuming, took two steps up in thin air as though walking up a ladder, then wrenched the compass back out of Rémington's hands. She jumped down onto the deck, then gave Rémington a hard shove over the side of the ship. He gave a brief cry of surprise before hitting the water with a hard splash. Mim chuckled; it was her very own way of saying that she'd read Rémington's gratitude loud and clear and he was welcome to her protection anytime, so long as he could survive being dunked into the ocean.

A howling laugh that didn't belong to Mim alerted her that she had an audience; she looked down the railing to see Ragdoll leaning on it, doubled over with laughter.

Rémington surfaced from down below. "HEY!" he yelled. "One of you better get me back up on board!"

"What's going on now?" Mozenrath sighed as the rest of the passengers began to gather to see what was the matter.

"Mim threw Rémington overboard," Ragdoll informed the group.

"He deserved it," Mim insisted.

"I suppose one of us should fish him out and put him back on deck," Mozenrath said, inconvenienced. "Not it."

A chorus of "NOT IT!" followed. The only ones who hadn't spoken up in time were Grany and Ragdoll, and being that one was a Bow Meow, the job fell to the contortionist.

"You realize that Mozenrath or Wuya could simply levitate him out with a spell," Ragdoll stated. "Or, better yet, Mim. You ARE romantically involved."

"Yes, but all of us said 'not it,'" Mim reminded him.

"Figure it out," Mozenrath ordered.

The group became a somewhat invested audience watching Ragdoll try to use a half-deflated life raft and a rope ladder to descend over the side of the ship and bring Rémington back on board. Grany bit his lip out of nerves.

"Who's driving?" Yzma asked.

"I have the ship under a spell to keep it moving on the right track," Wuya explained. "I thought it was safer than letting Roman overturn the boat or Snatcher find a way to sink us."

"Okay, I take offense to that," Roman retorted. "If anything, I'm the one who would find a way to actually crash the ship."

"And as unimpressed as I am with your lack of faith in my ability to pilot a simple boat," Snatcher added, "the worst I could do is overturn it."

"Either way, neither of you drives," Wuya said dryly.

"Does this ship happen to have a name?" Aghoul wondered out loud.

"I've been thinking about exactly that," Mim stated. "And as I'm the leader, I say this boat should be named the Incurable Blight."

"A fine name!" Aghoul complimented.

"In regards to you being the leader," the Huntsman brought up, "I am afraid we must discuss a shift in that status."

By that time, Ragdoll and Rémington had slopped their way onto the boat, clothing waterlogged. "What did we miss?" Ragdoll asked.

Before anyone could answer, Grany yelled, "YOU'RE SAFE!"

"Was there any doubt?" Rémington replied, wringing seawater out of his cape.

"Of course not, idiot," Grany snapped.

"All you missed was the naming of our ship as the Incurable Blight," Mim informed the pair. "That, and a reiteration that Roman and Snatcher shouldn't steer the boat, or it will catch on fire."

"I believe that is rather out of the realm of possibility for – " Snatcher began.

"Archie," Roman interrupted, "you underestimate me."

"As I was saying, however," the Huntsman went on, "we are swiftly approaching the Crimson Claws archipelago, which we know to be inhabited by a dragon. I have made it my personal goal to eradicate this dragon, insofar as it coincides with our search for the Eliacube. As such, I believe I am the one who should next take charge of the party. After all, Mim, you did have your turn acquiring our ride across the ocean, and have held onto that compass for a considerably long time." He put out his hand. "I shall take it now."

"NEVER!" Mim clutched the compass close to her chest, sidestepping around the Huntsman.

"You are being incredibly immature about – "

Before the Huntsman could finish his sentence, Mim shoved a shockwave of magic at him that was strong enough to fling him over the side of the boat.

"NOT IT!" everyone but Mozenrath yelled.

Mozenrath found he'd hesitated on purpose. After all, the Huntsman had been the first one he'd met since he could remember being awoken anew in the City of Old Emperors, and had sheltered him ever since then. Without saying a word, he stepped up to the edge and put out his hand. The Huntsman, who'd bobbed to the surface of the water quickly, was surrounded in blue light before he levitated upward.

"I still don't see why you had to make me get wet instead of just doing that to Rémington," Ragdoll complained, though his smile didn't fade.

"Because I said I wasn't it," Mozenrath reiterated.

The Huntsman's boots touched down on the deck, and Mozenrath summoned up a confined wind to blow his clothing dry. "Mim," he commanded, "give the Huntsman the compass."

"And why should I?" Mim huffed.

"Because when you do," Mozenrath reminded her, "he is going to lead you to somebody really powerful you can murder."

"Oh, I knew I had to give it up anyway," Mim said somewhat sulkily as she held out the compass for the Huntsman to take.

The Huntsman grasped it firmly, checked it to make sure the ship was still on course, then pocketed it. "I shall pass it on after our business at the archipelago has been taken care of," he vowed before stalking away.

Mozenrath found himself compelled to follow. "Sooooooo…dragon-slaying," he said as he sidled up to the Huntsman's side. "That's right up your alley."

"It is my purpose," the Huntsman said with a nod. "I…feel as though I must express my gratitude for you putting me back on the deck."

"Just let it go," Mozenrath told him. "Neither of us wants to get sentimental. I have to say I'm looking forward to this one. It's been an experience so far."

"How so?"

"Well, I've had to learn how each of these people I was supposedly friends with works. I've had to learn how to trust them. Again, apparently. Roman's good for a fun time, and his direct approach is refreshing. I was doubtful of Snatcher at first, but he really came through on the inconspicuous front. And I have to say his worldview is sound. Now, Mim is the exact opposite of him. She knows nothing about the concept of subtlety…which is why working with her is so satisfying. But I already know what it's like to work with you."

"And what do you think of me?"

"You're no-nonsense. You cut to the quick. And I like that. I'd put my life in your hands again if I had to. Of course, this time, I should actually be able to hold my own. A bit more practice and I can probably go back to carrying the team's entire weight. That is what I used to do, wasn't it?" Mozenrath's smile was coy.

"I won't argue," the Huntsman replied, and even though Mozenrath couldn't see his own smile through all of his headgear, the sorcerer knew it was there.

The Huntsman found himself hoping, against his better judgment, for Mozenrath's affection the way he'd had it in Fantastica before things had gone sour; he had plenty of his own to pay in return. And that was concerning. The Huntsclan had disapproved of romantic relationships within its structure, as they were nothing but diversions. And yet, though the Huntsman had kept his title, his mission, and the superficial trappings of the Huntsclan, he knew he was no longer part of that order as he knew it. He was WHAM ARMY now. The rules were different, and he wanted them to be that way.

But Mozenrath had said there were no sparks, and the Huntsman knew there was a chance he would simply have to accept that. He could offer all the loyalty and these emotions that were playing at close to love he had to spare in order to try and win back Mozenrath's affections, but in the end, he couldn't give Mozenrath feelings for him. Perhaps it had merely been a fire that briefly flickered before a premature dousing. Perhaps loyalty was the only bond the two had left to share, and the Huntsman knew, when the chips fell, that he could be content with that.

The attention of both was gotten with a tap on the shoulders from Ragdoll, which he'd crossed his arms twice over to do. "You're missing an excellent story," the lithe criminal informed the pair.

"Oh?" Mozenrath replied.

"Apparently Aghoul was a bit of a sailor in his younger days," Ragdoll explained.

"A BIT of a sailor!" Aghoul scoffed, having overheard. "I was part of the crew of the Black Viper! The most insidious necromancers to ever appear on the shores of the Seven Deserts! We traveled the world, raising havoc AND the dead on every coast! All under the captainship of Rais Zeded. Now THERE was a necromancer! Anyway, I had been telling the story of how we summoned the Kraken in the south isles. We all thought, at first, that our ritual had failed. But then, we felt the entire ship begin to shudder. The surface of the sea boiled and bubbled. When its tentacles broke the surface, nearly everyone had a heart attack. All except for Rais. I swear, that man was the most admirable sorcerer in the world."

"Until I came along," Mozenrath argued.

"Not really," Aghoul said casually. "Even before your memory loss, you had a lot of room for improvement. Rais was on a completely different level."

It caught Aghoul off guard when Mozenrath rushed him and shoved him over the side of the boat.

"NOT IT!"

...

Some distance away, a second, smaller ship – in worse condition than the Incurable Blight, yet seaworthy all the same – traversed the ocean with the destination of the Crimson Claws in mind.

"Aren't we going straight there?" Amalia asked when she saw the captain, a pink cephalopod who measured about the size of the average human head and sported a black eyepatch and a skull-emblazoned pirate's hat that appeared to make him double in stature, adjusting the course by a couple degrees.

"You can't just sail straight on to the Crimson Claws at this time of year!" Encre Noir responded. "The headwind would slow you down too much!"

"Thanks again for giving us a free ride," Sora told the tiny captain.

"We really wouldn't have objected to paying," Amalia added.

"Don't even mention it!" the captain's daughter Elaine, a human woman sporting a length of raven hair to offset her sea-green crop top and baggy orange pants, replied with a toothy grin. "You showed up just in time to help us put out that fire!"

"I still want to know how that even started," Stork insisted.

"So do I!" Encre Noir said in exasperation.

"Well, we're always happy to help," Ruby reiterated.

"I hope so," Amalia stated. "Because once you travel with Yugo, you end up helping everyone in any sort of trouble you meet along the way. Lifting curses, saving businesses that are going under, restoring rightful kings to their thrones…anything and everything!" She smiled brightly. "It can be a real pain, you know?"

"BUT YOU'RE SMILING," Papyrus observed.

"I know," Amalia replied. "Because at the end of the day, we have fun." She turned to address Yugo directly. "I don't think there's anyone better to go on an adventure with."

"But there is," Yugo replied. "There's you."

"Oh, stop!" Amalia chirped. "You're just flattering me." She leaned back on the rail. "This is just like old times. Sailing to distant and dangerous places. I've really missed this."

"So have I," Yugo realized.

"The difference is now we have new friends." Amalia smiled at Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, Jasmine, and Stork.

"Well, they're not SO different," Yugo pointed out. "Papyrus is as valiant as Pinpin, Stork is as stubborn as Ruel, and Jasmine is as brave and caring as Eva."

"I'm glad I met all of you," Amalia stated sincerely.

"And we're glad we met you," Jasmine replied; the others nodded in affirmation.

There was silence for some time before Stork, looking out to the horizon, said, "You know what's weird? The sea."

"Right," Sora realized. "You've never seen anything like this back home."

"There were bodies of salt water here and there," Stork explained, "but NOTHING like this."

"It's weird to think you didn't just grow up surrounded by the ocean," Sora commented. "It's always been there as long as I can remember."

"Is it better or worse than the sky?" Ruby asked.

"Well, with the sea, you can't actually SEE the monsters that are sneaking up on you," Stork mused.

"ALL THE SEA MONSTERS I'VE EVER KNOWN HAVE BEEN VERY NICE!" Papyrus reassured him.

"I'm still amazed at how you do that," Stork told Papyrus.

"DO WHAT? I DO MANY AMAZING THINGS. YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE TO BE MORE SPECIFIC."

"You see the bright side of everything," Stork reminded him. "You NEVER fear the worst."

"I'M NOT REALLY SURE HOW I DO IT," Papyrus admitted. "THAT'S JUST HOW THINGS ARE TO ME."

"I think it makes a good balance," Ruby offered. "Papyrus is the one who's open-minded about situations and keeps up hope, and Stork is the one who's able to smell when something's fishy. Like with Frou Frou."

"I still can't BELIEVE they tricked me like that!" Amalia seethed. "Villains that evil shouldn't have a better fashion sense than me! That's what threw me off!"

"Mozenrath will use all sorts of tricks," Jasmine warned. "From what you've said, it's pretty clear he wanted the Eliacube. I wouldn't be surprised if he's trying to go after Qilby."

"So let's go over it again," Sora recalled. "Brandisia Black: had to be Mozenrath. We know Frou Frou is Archibald Snatcher now. Amzy and Ayu sound a lot like two of those women who travel with them all the time. You know, the redhead and the one who's scary beyond all reason. None of them sounded like Ravess or Snipe, but they WERE in disguise. And ANY one of them could have been Neo. She can make herself look like anything." He turned to Ruby. "Right?"

Ruby nodded. "Right!"

"That leaves Roman Torchwick, the guy who WEARS a skull, and the guy who THROWS skulls. Oh, and the shapeshifter! She could have been anyone, too!" Sora counted it up. "That's eleven we know, and you said it was eleven people."

"Ten people and one Bow Meow," Amalia corrected. Then she went dead silent, eyes widening and mouth screwing into a crooked position.

"Amalia?" Yugo asked. "Are you okay?"

"If most of them could have been men dressed as women," Amalia said slowly, her anger building, "then one of them happened to be very pale, dressed all in black, and CARRYING AROUND A BOW MEOW EVERYWHERE! DOES THAT SOUND FAMILIAR?"

"Rémington Smisse!" Yugo realized.

"Who's Rémington Smisse?" Ruby asked.

"Rémington and Grany Smisse are two rogues who seem to turn up everywhere we go," Yugo explained. "We worked together once when Grany and Pinpin's Shushu Rubilax got in trouble. But usually, the Smisses just get in our way. You can't trust either of them."

"So add another pair to our enemies," Sora thought out loud. "Wow. That's a lot of them now. They practically have a whole army."

"Say," Elaine interrupted, "Stork."

"Yeah?" Stork replied.

"Where did you say you were from?" Elaine asked.

"From…far away," Stork said nervously.

"Because I can't figure out where there's sky travel but no sea," Elaine continued. "And Papa and I have been all over the world. I still think we should go back to the North so you can keep talking to that blonde captain we met in the Dire Strait." She nudged Encre Noir playfully.

"I'm your father," Encre Noir muttered. "I should be needling you about who you date. Not the other way around."

"But the point is," Elaine said with suspicion, "I've never seen anyone who looks like you before. Or Papyrus, for that matter. And I've been trying to figure out who and what you are and where you're from ever since you set foot on our boat."

"Just trust me when I say it's complicated," Stork groaned.

Yugo and Amalia exchanged a quick whisper, after which Yugo approached Elaine. "Don't worry about it, Elaine. It doesn't matter who they are or where they're from so long as they're willing to help us do what's right."

"Just trust us, Elaine," Amalia added.

Sora began to wonder why Yugo and Amalia were so insistent. Could they have figured out that their new friends came from other worlds? But there was no way they could have deduced that.

"Besides, we have bigger problems to worry about," Amalia huffed. "Like Prince Adal of New Sufokia."

"The Crimson Claws used to just be home to Phaerys and no one else," Yugo explained. "Then the army of New Sufokia came out from under the sea. They were an ancient kingdom that – "

"Yugo, everyone knows the story of Sufokia," Elaine interrupted.

"I want to tell it anyway," Yugo insisted.

Stork, at this point, was convinced Yugo knew the truth. But he wasn't going to say it out loud.

"Sufokia sank in a massive cataclysm," Yugo went on. "Their scientists found a way to keep the city thriving under the ocean. Six years ago, they rose up to re-establish a nation on the surface, and they colonized the Crimson Claws. Phaerys wasn't happy, but they reached an agreement with him. They could build as much as they wanted and mine from the outer layer of the largest island, but they had to leave the inner cavern alone. That's where Phaerys lives. Sufokia has an enormous military, but if they make Phaerys mad, he can take them all down in a minute."

"In order to land on the island, we're going to have to get past the New Sufokian navy and speak with Prince Adal," Amalia picked up. "I say you let me do the talking. Adal isn't trustworthy. He said a long time ago that the ores of Crimson Claws would give him enough power to take over the world, and he claimed he didn't intend to do it. He seems shifty to me. The rest of the world has its eyes on New Sufokia! Who KNOWS what they've been building over the past few years?"

"MAYBE THEY WERE JUST BUILDING AN AMUSEMENT PARK," Papyrus suggested.

"Why would a power-hungry prince build an amusement park?" Elaine asked, raising a brow.

"IT'S WHAT I'D BUILD IF I HAD INFINITE RESOURCES AND ENOUGH TIME TO MAKE SOMETHING COMPLEX," Papyrus said confidently.

"I'm not ruling out the amusement park until we're sure it's not there," Sora added, folding his arms.

"I've handled my share of arrogant princes before," Jasmine stated, somewhat lamenting that Rajah wasn't along for the ride in case Adal got unreasonable; she wondered if he wore embarrassing underwear. "But this seems like a situation Amalia knows best. We'll follow your lead."

"Thank you," Amalia said with a nod.

"All right," Encre Noir announced. "We can start straightening out course."

"DO YOU WISH YOU WERE DRIVING?" Papyrus asked Stork.

"I don't do water ships," Stork replied. "I do wish this thing could go faster. For all we know, we're in a dead heat race with one of our enemies, and the outcome of this entire journey depends on which of us gets to the Crimson Claws first."

"It's probably not that literal," Ruby tried to assure him.

...

The woods were silent and still, disturbed only by the wind blowing a leaf off a tree.

Then Xerxes and Diablo appeared, breaking the silence. Diablo jerked Xerxes back, trying in vain to stab him with his beak. Xerxes twisted this way and that, avoiding Diablo's strikes; his frenetic squirming allowed him to break loose of the raven's claws and shoot through the forest, hoping to lose Diablo among the trees. He made his path as winding and complicated as possible. Diablo, however, was not so easily shaken. The raven was able to keep up no matter how many twists Xerxes threw in.

Xerxes' panic came to a head when the trees opened up into a small clearing, revealing what appeared to be a house. (Had Xerxes stopped to read the very large and obvious sign, he would have realized it was not a "house" so much as a "shack.") Hoping desperately for sanctuary, he scanned the building, finding the uppermost window open. In he charged, entering an attic room furnished with two beds. A brunette preteen boy reclined on one of said beds, reading a thick book marked with a six-fingered hand on the cover; when Xerxes burst in, the boy fumbled the book and screamed, nearly rolling off the bed.

Xerxes didn't want to take any chances. He dropped the star shard from his mouth, yelling, "HELP! PLEASE HELP XERXES!"

"WHAT?" the boy yelled back in surprise.

"XERXES NEED HE – " Xerxes was cut off by Diablo zooming in through the window and tackling him, trying once again to spear him, cawing maliciously all the while. "SAVE XERXES!" the eel pleaded.

"O…okay!" Realizing the eel just might die without his assistance, the boy leapt off the bed, running for a broom he'd left leaning against the wall from sweeping up earlier. He swatted the broom at Diablo; "Get out of here! Leave him alone!"

The bristles thunked against Diablo, sending the raven stumbling and taking Xerxes on a tumble with him.

The door to the room opened from the outside; a brunette girl wearing a bright green sweater and a complementing skirt stepped into the room. "Dipper!" she cried. "What's happening?"

"Help me, Mabel!" Dipper responded, taking another swipe at Diablo. "This raven's trying to kill this…eel thingy!"

"On it!" Mabel rushed to grab her most prized possession. Diablo got a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye, and when he saw what she was aiming at him, he let go of Xerxes immediately, hurriedly flapping to the roof of the room.

"GRAPPLING HOOK!" Mabel cried, firing that exact instrument at where Xerxes and Diablo had been squabbling.

Dipper rushed to finish the job with the broom, batting Diablo out the window. "I said…get…OUT!" Once Diablo was outside, Dipper slammed the attic window shut. Diablo furiously scratched and pecked at the glass, but to no avail.

Breathless, Dipper turned back to where Xerxes was hovering in the middle of the room. "What…ARE you?"

"Xerxes," the eel answered.

"Yeah," Dipper said with a nod. "You said that." He picked up the book he'd dropped, leafing through it. "I've never seen anything like you in the journal. But these days, it's getting harder for anything to surprise me."

"Y'know, Dipper, he's…kinda cute in an ugly way," Mabel pointed out.

"Xerxes understand you," Xerxes insisted. "No talk about Xerxes like can't hear you."

"Sorry," Mabel apologized. "But I was just wondering if you wanna be our new pet!"

"Mabel," Dipper cautioned, "this is a sentient speaking creature. He probably doesn't wanna be anybody's pet."

"But he could be best friends with Waddles and Gompers!" Mabel argued. "You wanna meet your two new best friends, don't you?"

"Mabel, he belongs back at home in the wild – "

Xerxes looked out the window, where Diablo was still trying to gain entry. "Xerxes hide here?" he proposed. "Xerxes be pet, but only for little bit. Xerxes need to hide from big bad bird!"

"Really?" Mabel gasped. "You'll live with us? I'll start knitting your tiny sweater!"

"Seriously," Dipper asked, "where did you COME from? Out in the woods?"

"Land of Black Sand," Xerxes replied.

"Black sand?" Dipper repeated. "Like in Hawaii?"

Xerxes shook his head. "Too complicated to explain."

"Well, welcome to the Mystery Shack," Dipper introduced. "This is our room. I guess it's your room too now. We should show you the rest of the place. Come on."

Downstairs, the tall, rotund Mystery Shack handyman, clad as ever in his question mark T-shirt, was at work repairing the cash register of the gift shop, which refused to close. "Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo," he sang to himself, "fixin' the cash register, doo-doo-doo…"

"SOOS!" Mabel yelled as she barreled down the stairs, Dipper and Xerxes in tow. "WE GOT A NEW PET!"

"Huh?" Soos looked over at the trio. "Whoa, hey, cool! What's that, some kinda flyin' eel?"

"It's a flying, TALKING eel!" Mabel gushed.

"Name Xerxes," Xerxes introduced. He briefly wondered if he'd stumbled into a den of heroes or villains. If it turned out that he'd taken refuge with a bunch of goody-two-shoes – which, given how quickly they'd adopted him, was probably the case – he would have some very embarrassing things to explain when he got back home.

Home. The star shard. Where had he left it?

Xerxes whirled around in panic only to find Dipper holding up the shard. "He brought in this weird crystal," Dipper announced. "I wonder if it has any powers – "

"NO TOUCH!" Xerxes slapped Dipper's hand with his tail, causing Dipper to drop the shard. "Belong to Xerxes!"

"Okay, okay!" Dipper relented. "You can keep it! Anyway, this is Soos. He practically lives here."

"'Sup, little guy?" Soos asked.

"Uhhh…" Xerxes looked upward. "Ceiling."

"I like him already!" Soos proclaimed. "He's got a good sense of humor."

"Uhhh…thanks?" Xerxes said gingerly.

A redheaded teenage girl clad in flannel walked in from the adjacent room, popping the tab on a can of soda. She had to do a double take upon seeing Xerxes. "Whoa! What's the ugly flying thing?"

"Our new pet," Dipper answered. "Apparently. He got chased into our room by this crazy raven, and now we're protecting him. Though…" He looked at Xerxes with suspicion. "We never did hear WHY the raven was chasing him."

"Raven hungry," Xerxes said quickly. "Raven want eat Xerxes." He looked nervously to the nearest window.

Diablo hovered outside the triangle-shaped framing, glaring into the Mystery Shack. A sudden movement near the door caught Diablo's eye, and the raven made a dash.

"Xerxes," Dipper introduced, "this is Wendy. She works at the Mystery Shack part-time."

"Cool," Wendy said with a nod. "Does he know any tricks?"

"Well, he flies, and he talks," Dipper counted off. "That's pretty impressive right there."

There was a sudden scuffle outside and the sound of a harsh male voice yelling "GET OFF ME, YOU STUPID BIRD! HEY! GET YOUR CLAWS OFF MY WALLET!" The door was pried open by an elderly man in a suit, who was trying to slide into the shack without letting Diablo in as well. "YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED IN HERE UNLESS YOU PAY ADMISSION!" He quickly stepped in and slammed the door, keeping Xerxes outside. "AND STAY OUT!" He turned to the others. "These birds, I swear. Once they figure out you keep money in your pocket, they don't leave you alone HOT BELGIAN WAFFLES, WHAT IS THAT THING?" He pointed accusatorily at Xerxes.

"New pet, man," Wendy explained.

"Didn't you hear what I said?" the man grunted. "NO ENTRY WITHOUT PAYING ADMISSION."

"But Grunkle Stan!" Mabel protested. "He needs our help! That nasty bird is trying to eat him!"

"Besides," Dipper argued, "when's the last time you saw a sea creature that could both fly and talk?"

"A sea creature that can both fly and talk…" If one looked closely enough, one could certainly see tiny dollar signs in Stan's eyes. "Now, THAT'S a mystery people will pay to see!"

"Grunkle Stan, no!" Mabel quickly threw her arms around Xerxes, pulling him close and nearly choking him in the process. As Xerxes wriggled, Mabel protested, "Xerxes is our friend! You can't put him on display!"

"Just part-time!" Stan argued. "During the day. Look, it looks harmless enough that it's not gonna eat the tourists, but it's still weird. Do you know how hard it is to find that balance around here?"

Xerxes slipped out of Mabel's tight embrace. "Xerxes no want to be display!"

"It really CAN talk," Stan muttered. "Y'know what, eel-thingy? I'm gonna cut you a deal. Be a part-time exhibit for the Mystery Shack, and you get a cut of the profits. Then, when business hours close, you get the night off and you can do whatever you want. Play with the kids, have a cola with Soos, whatever. How's that sound?"

Xerxes thought it over. "Xerxes no want money," he said at last. "Xerxes want magic."

"What, like stage magic?" Stan proposed. "Because I got plenty of – "

"Uh-uh!" Xerxes shook his head. "REAL magic!"

"Fresh outta that," Stan said with a shrug.

"Oh, don't worry," Dipper broke in. "Give me a couple weeks, and SOMETHING magical will turn up. If you hang around until then, I can get you what you want. Sound like a deal?"

"Deal!" Xerxes said with a grin.

"You really have a thing for magic, don't you?" Dipper continued. "I KNOW there's something going on with that crystal."

Xerxes nodded. "Magic a…hobby."

"Well, we'll keep your crystal safe," Dipper promised. "You ever gonna tell us what it does?"

"Uhhh…secret," Xerxes murmured.

"Uh-huhhhhh," Dipper replied, already planning to sneak a closer look at the star shard once Xerxes was busy working for the Shack and attempt to figure out its mystical properties. The eel's reticence was beginning to give Dipper suspicions that the creature might be more than he seemed, and Dipper wanted to figure out the truth for the safety of his family, not to mention sating his own curiosity. "Okay. That's fine. Well, welcome to the Mystery Shack." He extended his right hand.

Xerxes lamented that it had come to this. These people didn't seem like villains at all. To his credit, the one called Stan had a fixation on money that befitted most evildoers, but nothing else about him radiated malice. But Diablo was still hovering, once again visible through the window's triangular patterns, and Xerxes feared coming out the worst next time they battled. Xerxes knew what he had to do. "Mystery Shack," he said as he lightly slapped Dipper's hand with a fin.

...

Those who'd landed on the Balmera had split into two parties. The Paladins of Voltron and associated crew had divided themselves up among Kairi's companions, and each faction had set off in a different direction in the tunnel system.

Keith, Shiro, Lance, Jaune, Vida, Cadance, and Coran walked in silence while Carpet floated lazily behind them. Cadance, Vida, Coran, Shiro, and Lance all tried to think of things to say to break the atmosphere.

"So…that's a nice…vehicle you have," Lance said at last. "Is it some kind of robot? Nanotechnology?"

"Just fabric," Vida answered. "And he's not an 'it.'"

"Right," Lance replied.

They walked in silence for several more minutes.

"Isn't it WONDERFUL weather we're having today?" Coran suddenly blurted.

"We're underground," Jaune replied. "The weather doesn't get us down here."

"I think technically we're under a layer of skin," Cadance reminded Jaune.

Jaune shuddered. "Ew."

"It isn't gross at all!" Coran argued. "The Balmera's internal organs are placed very, very far below the outer layers. This is where we're going to find crystals, as well as most of the Balmeran civilization. And, with any luck, your missing friend!"

"I still don't see why your friend is our problem," Keith grunted.

"EXCUSE me?" Vida shot back. "Look, no one's MAKING you help us. This is important to Kairi, and we don't need your help if you don't wanna give it to us."

"Then maybe we shouldn't," Keith grumbled.

"Now, hold on, everyone!" Coran urged. "Let's not fight over – "

"This ISN'T going to work!" Keith snapped, rounding on the group.

"Keith," Shiro said calmly. "I don't think – "

"I know you think we should help them," Keith snapped, "but the farther we go, the more I realize this just isn't a good idea."

"Why not?" Cadance asked earnestly.

"Because we really CAN'T trust you!" Keith insisted. "Every time we try and ask a question, we get a vague answer. You can't even explain your flying carpet. And most importantly, you can't tell us where you're FROM."

"Okay, you really wanna know?" Jaune snapped right back. "Then I'll tell you. On one condition."

"Jaune," Vida warned, "I think there are good reasons we don't just tell people – "

"You have to stop treating us like the enemy," Jaune insisted.

"You said you didn't trust us either," Keith reminded him.

"Well, ONE of us has to take down some walls," Jaune answered. "We can't just keep going on with all this tension. So we can give you the truth, and it'll be your choice whether to accept it or take it as a reason to leave."

"Perhaps it would be best," Cadance agreed.

"And besides," Vida added, "you guys have seen a lot. I think you'll get it."

"All right," Keith said with a decisive nod. "I'll give you one more chance to answer this question. WHERE ARE YOU FROM?"

Jaune took a deep breath. "From…a bunch of different worlds. Not planets. WORLDS. Your entire space is just one world to us. You have an Earth in it. Vida, Chip, and Madison also have an Earth they're from, but it's not your Earth. Cadance is from Equestria, Genie and Carpet are from Agrabah in the Seven Deserts, I'm from Remnant, and Kairi is kind of a dual citizen of Radiant Garden and the Destiny Islands."

"They aren't alternate realities, either," Cadance added. "From what I understand, an alternate reality is a version of the same world with a crucial difference. Equestria is nothing like Galra Space, which is what we call this world thanks to its conquerors."

"So what you're saying," Shiro clarified, "is that while we already knew space was big, it's actually a lot bigger."

"So THAT'S why you've never heard of Voltron!" Lance smacked the back of one hand into the palm of the other. "It all makes sense now!"

"I'd always thought the notion of something that distant from the planets we knew was the stuff of fairy tales," Coran admitted.

"So," Jaune asked Keith, "are you satisfied?"

Keith's expression revealed that he'd been caught completely off guard by the answer. "Yeah," he said softly. "I'm satisfied."

"So you wouldn't know who Lotor was, either," Lance reiterated. "He's just not your problem."

"Nope," Vida answered. "We've all got problems of our own to deal with. But we came together because some of these problems started going after a lot of worlds at the same time. Like Maleficent and Mozenrath…and then I keep hearing this name 'Xehanort' being thrown around."

"But if the planets we've been to are all part of one single world," Shiro realized, "and those people are threatening multiple worlds…"

"Then they're eventually going to become our problem too," Keith finished.

"I hope it doesn't come to that," Jaune stated. "It looks like you guys have enough to deal with."

"Well, whatever comes our way, we'll be ready," Coran replied.

"Then the carpet," Lance brought up. "What is up with the carpet?"

"It's magic," Vida answered. "Just plain and simple magic."

Carpet made a gesture that was as close as he could get to nodding.

"REAL MAGIC?" Lance was stunned. "Now, this I gotta see!" He moved closer to Carpet.

The floating fabric responded by beckoning, pointing to his flat back, with a tassel.

"You want me to hop on?" Lance asked.

Carpet gave the nodding motion again.

"SWEET!" Lance climbed aboard. "Look, everyone! I'm riding an actual flying carpet!"

"You look like a dork," Keith laughed.

"Oh, yeah?" Lance replied defensively. "Well, YOU look like a JERK!"

"Well, I'm glad this is all cleared up!" Coran said cheerily. "I must admit, I'm quite curious about these other worlds."

"So am I!" Lance gushed. "I have, like, a million questions. Is everyone in Equestria a talking horse?"  
"Alicorn," Cadance corrected. "There are unicorns, pegasi, earth ponies, and alicorns to make up the pony population. Then there are the griffons, the dragons, the bison – "

"Okay, this world sounds awesome," Lance cut off. "But what about this other Earth? Is it like our Earth?"

"I don't know what your Earth is like," Vida laughed. "Does it have a town called Briarwood?"

"May…be?" Lance looked pensive.

"Does it constantly get attacked by monsters?" Vida continued.

"Okay, that's a big nope," Lance confirmed. "So thaaaaat's what you need a giant space robot for!"

"I think I know what we're doing as soon as we win the fight against the Galra," Shiro said with a smile. "Whenever that is."

"Well…" Jaune thought it over. "Maybe…and I can't promise anything…we can come back and help you out after we find Even."

"We will need all hands on deck," Keith said with a decisive nod. "Why couldn't you tell us the truth earlier?"  
"Because usually, people just don't get it," Jaune answered. "It took me a while to believe it was for real. There's also some protocol. Worlds aren't really supposed to know about each other. Probably because it takes so much to sink in."

"We should have known better when it came to you," Cadance admitted. "If you've seen alternate realities, you would be prepared for just about anything."

"Keith, you GOTTA try this," Lance laughed as Carpet brought him in a slow circle around the team. "Not that I'm going to actually get off and let you, as I am having too much fun."

Carpet halted, leaning into a slow incline that dumped Lance onto the ground. "Hey!" Lance grunted. "Was it something I said?"

Carpet beckoned for Keith to step on board.

"Me?" Keith said softly.

Carpet made the half-nodding motion of agreement.

"Well…all right." Keith climbed on board, and as the group took off walking, Carpet slowly ferried Keith at the forefront. "So you're pretty smart, huh?" he asked. "You're not just for travel."

Carpet gave him a thumbs-up.

"The lions are the same way," Keith stated. "They're really more than just ships. We have a bond with them. They're…well…I don't really know how to put this."

"Buddies," Lance filled in. "The lions are our pals!"

"I guess that works," Keith admitted.

"We'd love to hear more about the other worlds beyond this one if you have the time!" Coran insisted.

"We still haven't learned everything there is to know about this one," Vida laughed. "You know, I'm starting to wonder if this whole keeping-other-worlds-a-secret thing is really worth it. Everyone we've met has to learn it at some point or another anyway."

"We should bring it up when we get back to Radiant Garden," Jaune agreed. "Maybe there's a better way."

"Is it literally a garden?" Lance asked.

"It's a kingdom," Jaune replied. "It's got a pretty cool castle."

"Not better than the Altean castle," Lance bragged.

"Does the Altean castle have a huge library?" Vida posed.

"Does the Radiant Garden castle have a POOL?" Lance countered.

Shiro quickened his pace until he was next to the floating Keith. "Maybe it's none of my business," he stated, "but from here, it looks like there might be something you want to say to everyone."

"You're right," Keith sighed. "I should probably do it standing on my own two feet, if that's all right."

Carpet halted so Keith could disembark, and Keith gave him a sincere "Thank you" before turning to the others. "I'm…sorry," he sighed. "It's just…with so many enemies making power plays, it's hard to know who to trust."

"Believe me, we all know the feeling," Jaune assured him.

"Try learning the local snob was a vampire princess all along, and then finding out she had good in her after you'd made her your sworn enemy," Vida contributed.

"Try actually being replaced by an evil shapeshifter that gets all your friends to trust her!" Cadance laughed.

"Good thing we could figure it out easily if that happened," Jaune said casually.

"Same with us if one of the paladins got replaced," Lance added.

Both Jaune and Lance gave pause. Then, at the same time, they said, "We would…wouldn't we?"

"And that's one we probably shouldn't overthink," Coran urged. "Moving on, now!"

There was another period of awkward silence before Cadance said, "Anyway, neither Radiant Garden nor the Altean castle has an evil-repelling crystal that distributes a protective aura throughout the entire world."

"Oh, don't even start!" Lance laughed before the question of whose castle was best was reopened all over again.

...

Things were going much more smoothly between Kairi, Madison, Genie, Chip, Hunk, Allura, Pidge, and Shay.

"…I should get you the recipe," Hunk concluded as the group came across a fork in the tunnels.

"Wait," Shay said suddenly. "I remember that one of these tunnels leads to a crystal garden, but I cannot remember which. If I scout ahead, I can figure it out. I shall go alone so as not to inconvenience you with the walk."

"Sounds good to me," Hunk said casually.

"Wait here," Shay commanded before dashing off down the left-hand tunnel.

"Sooooooooo…" Genie elbowed Hunk playfully in the arm. "Is she your special someone?"

"Nah, it's not like that," Hunk replied. "I mean, I love Shay like a friend, but I don't really think of her like THAT. Y'know, I don't LIKE like her. I just really like her."

"Um…are you sure SHAY knows that?" Pidge brought up. "She seems pretty into you."

"She did make a point of asking me your whereabouts last time I came here alone," Allura pointed out.

"Wait, really?" Hunk did a double take. "Aw, man…I hope not. I don't wanna have to let her down like that. Especially not now, while everyone else is here, and…aaaaagggghhhhh. Maybe you're reading her wrong."

"Perhaps," Allura replied. "Then again, a woman's intuition about this sort of thing is hardly ever wrong. For example, now that I know you don't have romantic eyes for Shay, I'm guessing there's someone else."

"Well, uh…" Hunk scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "That…might not be as off base as you'd think – "

"WHAT?" Pidge barked. "How did I not know about this? Why didn't you tell me about this?"

"It's not be anybody you know," Hunk said defensively. "It's someone I know from before the academy. I just know that it's never gonna happen, and I'm at peace with that, so…yeah."

"Why couldn't it happen?" Kairi asked.

"Well…it's…complicated," Hunk replied. "So I like this person a lot. We'll call them Person A. We had kind of a rough start, but we got to be pretty good friends after a while. Person A had a bit of a temper problem, but they're really actually pretty sweet underneath, and they were there for me once when I was really scared and off my game. We've had a couple…bonding moments. But the thing is, there's this other person, Person B. And Person A and Person B are constantly picking fights with each other. Which, I know, sounds like that means they really hate each other, but it's kinda obvious they're into each other. Person B starts the fights to get Person A's attention, and Person A plays along so they can talk to Person B without having to put down their walls. And when you get the two of them working together, they can end up being really, honestly nice to each other and pretty good together as a team. Besides, I'm not what Person A is looking for by a long shot. But you know what? I'm okay with that. Because I am what I am, and I wouldn't wanna change that. And Person A and Person B are both really good friends…who I had BEFORE I knew any of you, and who are STILL ON EARTH…and I don't wanna get between them or lose either one of them as a friend. So that's where I am right now."

"This sounds suspiciously like two people I DO know," Pidge said skeptically.

Allura nudged Pidge hard in the side. "Don't be silly, Pidge. They're obviously friends he's had from before." She gave Pidge a knowing wink.

"Riiiiiiight," Pidge droned.

"Well, I'm sorry you're in that position," Kairi stated.

"'S okay," Hunk replied. "Really, it's not…it's not that big of a deal."

Kairi could tell it was, in fact, a big deal. He just didn't want it to be. "Look at it this way," she encouraged. "You know their friendship matters to you a lot, and you're okay with it that Person A doesn't look at you the way you look at them. I think, based on what I've seen, that it'll be the same with Shay. If you do have to let her down, I think your friendship will be important enough to survive. I know I once had a crush on one of my best friends, and it turned out he was hopelessly in love with our other best friend almost all along. But it's the same with me. I love both of them as friends, and I want them to be happy together. A really good friendship can survive a crush that goes wrong. And I think you have that with Shay and your two friends from Earth." Though Kairi, given the signals Pidge was emitting, was unconvinced they really were people Pidge and Allura didn't know.

"Thanks," Hunk replied. "I think you're right. And that's what matters here."

"Though if I'm being honest," Kairi admitted, "just based on what you told me, I kinda hope you really are what Person A is looking for. I think they'd be lucky to have you."

"Aw, geez…thanks, but it's really not gonna happen," Hunk responded, face flushing. "Actually, you're the one anyone would be lucky to have. That wasn't…that wasn't me saying I like YOU like that. I mean, I barely know you, and that would be kinda creepy at this point. I'm just saying you're a good friend, Kairi."

"I know what you mean," Kairi said with a nod.

"But what ABOUT you?" Allura pressed. "Are there any special someones in your life?"

"Allura!" Pidge scolded. "We just met! You can't just start up gossiping about – "

"It's okay," Kairi laughed. "Actually, I do like someone. I like him a lot. And it's someone you know."

"It's Jaune, isn't it?" Madison guessed.

"Wait, you have a thing for JAUNE?" Chip said in surprise.

"I thought it was obvious," Madison said with a shrug.

"It is Jaune," Kairi confirmed. "And I'm pretty sure he likes me. But we can't be together right now. He lost someone he was very close to not too long ago. I never met her, and I'm sad I never will, because she sounds like she was amazing. But Jaune is still trying to handle that trauma. I don't just want to force him out of it. If anything happens between us, it will be when we're both ready. And it might never happen. But we have that same kind of friendship. The kind that matters more to me than whether or not we'll ever be a couple."

"Well, I hope you two get together," Hunk said decisively.

"As do I," Allura contributed.

"I ship it," Chip added with a nod.

"What about you?" Kairi asked Allura. "Since you asked me, I'm asking you now."

"Well, there may be a certain someone," Allura confessed. "Someone brave and loyal and kind. We've been through a lot together."

"Pretty sure I know who that is," Hunk stated, and Pidge threw in a knowing grin. "So what's stopping you from telling him?"  
"It just hasn't seemed like the right time," Allura stated. "We are in the midst of a war."

"I get where you're coming from," Chip said sympathetically. "That's why I never told my crush how I felt about her. There was always a greater evil we had to fight. Oh, and also, I was afraid that if we started dating and broke up, we might never be friends again, and I didn't want that to happen."

"You never mentioned this," Madison commented. "Wait, are you crushing on my sister?"  
"Don't tell her?" Chip asked. "Like I said, I really don't wanna break up our friendship. Or the whole Mystic Force team."

"I don't think you'd break up the team," Madison encouraged. "Or your friendship. But if you don't want me to say anything, then I won't."

"Cool," Chip said. "And I won't say anything about you and Nick."

"Me and NICK?" Madison was taken aback. "I do NOT have a crush on Nick."

"Didn't you ask him to come back to Briarwood just for you?"  
"Well, yeah," Madison admitted. "Because we're friends. And, well, you know Nick is unpredictable. I didn't want him to ride off and I'd never see him again. But if you want to know the truth, he's not exactly my type. My type is more…dashing knights."

"Like Daggeron!" Chip realized.

Madison looked away, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "Yes. Like Daggeron."

"How about you?" Pidge asked Genie. "Since we're all sharing, apparently."

"Oh, I'm already with the most wonderful woman in all the worlds," Genie said wistfully, a heart-shaped bulge pulsating at his chest. "Eden. She's kind, she's caring, and she has a GREAT sense of humor."

"That just leaves you, Pidge," Kairi pointed out.

"No crushes here," Pidge answered. "And honestly, I can't tell if they sound like a good thing or like more trouble than they're worth."

"Both," Hunk confirmed. "Definitely both."

"I think we can all agree to that," Kairi laughed, and everyone else but Genie nodded.

"Speak for yourselves," Genie commented. "I happen to think love is one of the most powerful phenomena in all the worlds. Even stronger than my own magic."

"It's just crushes," Madison stated. "It's not love."

"But love often starts with just a crush," Allura pointed out.

All were silenced by the sound of Shay rushing back toward the group. "It is the other tunnel," she announced. "Come this way!"

The group set off down the right-hand tunnel. No one wanted to reopen the discussion about crushes, given Shay's relevance; that was for Hunk and Shay to sort on their own time. Shay, however, had a topic of conversation ready at hand: "I am hoping we find your friend, Kairi. The Balmera is so large that I worry we will not."

"I have a good feeling we will," Kairi said optimistically. "Though I don't even know if 'friend' is the right word. He's more like part of my family."

Hunk and Pidge exchanged glances. They had discussed with each other what it was like to have to leave their parents back on Earth with no warning when they joined Voltron, and they missed their families dearly, especially Pidge, who was still determined, come hell or a fleet of Galra military ships, to locate her missing brother. They then looked to Allura, whose gaze said it all when she looked back: she was thinking of the family she had lost to war and time and would never regain no matter how hard she searched.

"Then we won't stop until we do find him," Pidge promised.

"We're right here with you," Hunk agreed.

"You can count on us!" Allura insisted.

"Thank you," Kairi replied. "It means a lot to me."

"Well, it's what friends do, isn't it?" Hunk stated.

"We'd do the same for you," Madison vowed.

Hunk and Allura both looked to Pidge, who shook her head fervently. At least Kairi knew where to begin looking for Even. Pidge hadn't the foggiest of where Matt might be. If she roped her new compatriots into that search, it would detain them for perhaps years. It was better that Matt went unmentioned.

Noticing the sudden silence, Chip asked, "So, Pidge, you said you were into robots? Have you ever actually built one?"  
"Not from scratch yet, but one time I did reprogram an enemy drone…"

They conversed into the depths of the tunnel.

...

An island was beginning to come into view off the deck of the Incurable Blight. "Land ho," Mozenrath remarked casually.

"Before we get too close," Rémington warned, "a few things. First of all, the island technically falls under the governance of New Sufokia, which has one of the most technologically advanced militaries if not the most technologically advanced military in the world. The ocean between here and there is loaded with about a thousand underwater vessels that want to blow our ship to bits. Does anyone have a problem with this?"

A chorus of "No," "Not me," and "Nah" was the response.

"Second," Rémington went on, "the dragon himself lives in the caves in the middle of the island. We're going to have to get all the way inside if we want to find him. Third, Phaerys is a formidable foe. They say no mortal can kill him. Does anyone have a problem with THIS?"

The same chorus of negatives went up.

"You're all crazy," Grany commented. "And that's good, because so is Rémy."

"You're a little crazy," Rémy teased, poking his brother in the side with a finger.

"You take that back!" Grany snapped. "I'm the only sensible one on this boat!"

"We must employ stealth to find our way to the central caverns," the Huntsman stated. "Mim! Wuya! Mozenrath! Between the three of you, can you cloak the Blight from view?"

"Piece of cake," Wuya replied.

"Easy-peasy!" Mim added.

"I could probably do it on my own," Mozenrath bragged.

"You're still in the early stages of training," Wuya reminded him. "Just don't forget to call on me when you inevitably fail."

"The only way to learn to fly is to jump out of the nest," Mozenrath countered.

"That's also a good way to die," Wuya reminded him.

The Incurable Blight became invisible to the mortal eye just as it sailed into where the New Sufokian field of vision would have been able to pick it up. However, despite the magic of those on board, they couldn't change the fact that someone else had gotten to the island first.

A troop of women dressed in the navy blue uniform of New Sufokia's guard surrounded Yugo, Amalia, Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, Jasmine, Papyrus, Encre Noir, and Elaine on a walk through the island's neatly paved pathways. What had once been a desert was covered in chrome.

"Where are you taking us?" Ruby demanded.

"To the central governance hall, which serves as the headquarters of the mining operation," one of the guards answered dryly. "Also, I would not speak to us in that tone again. The only reason we didn't shoot you out of the water is because we recognized Princess Sheran Sharm."

"Not a respectful way to welcome guests," Jasmine huffed under her breath to Stork.

"Starting to think we're on enemy territory," Stork whispered back.

"No rollercoasters," Sora whispered to Papyrus. "Looks like we're out of luck."

"What are you whispering about?" one of the guards commanded.

"THE FACT THAT THERE ARE NO ROLLERCOASTERS HERE," Papyrus stated.

"It's the truth!" Sora insisted.

"Are you trying to make a mockery of us?" the guard hissed.

"No, Ma'am," Amalia replied. "We had simply hoped to be treated like royal guests instead of invaders, especially since you wouldn't have this island in your possession without us."

"You sure you should have said that out loud?" Stork asked.

The guard just gave a "hmph" and continued walking.

The group was escorted to a fairly lavish building of white perched in the center of the island, at the apex of a formation of what had once been rock but now was encased in a metal shell. The interior was also pure white, with gold décor as accents. The destined room contained a large table with a map of the island spread out across it; two people looked over the map in interest. One of them was a man clad in golden armor, with a youthful face and an abundance of white hair. The other was tall and broad-chested, his deep green skin and horned head proclaiming a reptilian nature; he wore only a pair of ragged brown pants, and a pair of batlike wings protruded from his back.

"…can see, our drilling has only reached to here," the white-haired man said, indicating a segment of the map. "Nowhere near where our split is delineated."

"You are overstepping your bounds," the larger man accused. "Phaerys can tell by the sounds of the drills."

"Prince Adal," the head guard announced. "Princess Amalia Sheran Sharm and her companions have arrived seeking an audience with you."

"ADAL!" Amalia barked. "What tricks are you up to now?"

"No tricks," the white-haired man, obviously Adal, replied. "It is good to see you too, Princess Sheran Sharm." He clapped his hands twice, looking to his guards; "You are dismissed."

"It sounded like you and Phaerys were having trouble with your agreement," Yugo pointed out. "You weren't breaking your end of the deal, were you?"  
"I would never!" Adal gasped dramatically.

"His forces will soon break into Phaerys' territory if they continue at their current rate," Phaerys stated.

"Adal!" Amalia huffed. "Don't you DARE make me get involved!"

"What will you do?" Adal asked. "Bring the Sadida here? Start a war over nothing? Or do you plan to strike yourself? That, of course, counts as an act of war by the Sadida whether you want it to or not."

"Spare your forces," the taller man, now identifiable as Phaerys, told Amalia. "Phaerys came here to deliver his own personal warning to Adal to keep within his bounds. Phaerys can stand against his forces himself."

"You hadn't mentioned that part," Adal said somewhat nervously. "You…you know you can't take on – "

"I am confident I can," Phaerys stated definitively.

"Well," Adal admitted, "there is the possibility that the drillers have been working outside their boundaries without my knowledge. I will reprimand them accordingly."

"Isn't there a way we can work this out peacefully?" Yugo asked. "You stood together against the Shushus in the great Battle of the Crimson Claws. Adal, is that not reason enough for you to respect Phaerys without it coming to threats?"

"I do respect him," Adal said haughtily.

"Why don't we believe you?" Sora snapped.

"Hm?" Adal looked over the entourage. "I recognize Princess Sheran Sharm's pirate chauffeurs and tiny advisor, but who are the rest of you? Not members of the Sadida court, obviously."

"We're friends of Yugo and Amalia," Jasmine stated confidently, "and it just so happens that Phaerys is the one we're looking for."

"For what reason?" Phaerys asked.

"We're afraid you may be in danger." Jasmine's tone softened. "From more than one of our enemies."

"There's no time to waste," Yugo insisted. "Qilby has returned."

"Qilby?" Adal flinched. "Impossible."

Phaerys nodded. "Phaerys feared it would only be a matter of time," he confessed.

"And he's not even the only one we have to worry about," Sora went on. "There's a group of people pretending to be dragon protectors claiming you're being threatened, and trust us, they're bad news."

"You have to tell us everything you know," Adal demanded.

"Everything?" Stork said nervously.

"OF COURSE!" Papyrus agreed enthusiastically. "EVERYTHING!"

"How are we going to explain this without telling him you-know-what?" Jasmine whispered to Sora.

"We improvise," Sora replied.

...

"I can't believe we ALL got here without ANYONE seeing us," Wuya remarked as she, the Huntsman, Mozenrath, Yzma, Aghoul, Mim, Roman, Snatcher, Ragdoll, Rémington, and Grany entered a dark cave whose floor was half given over to a pool of chilly water.

"You're surprised?" Rémington replied. "Stealth is my specialty."

"As getting into places undetected is one of mine," Ragdoll added.

"Oh, it wasn't you two I was worried about," Wuya confirmed. "The fact that we got Mim and Roman here without being noticed is a complete and utter miracle."

"Face it," Yzma added, "I don't care how stealthy any of you is on your own. Put us together and we cause a scene by standing perfectly still."

"Says the woman who dresses like a purple disco ball," Roman snapped.

"I wasn't exempting myself," Yzma clarified.

"Soooooooo…what now?" Mozenrath asked the Huntsman. "There's a distinct lack of dragon in here."

"We wait," the Huntsman directed. "The dragon has to return to his cavern eventually. At that point, we strike and catch him off guard."

"You should light up your staff," Roman said excitedly. "It's going to look SO cool when he comes back and just sees the green harbinger of his doom."

"Ambushes aren't about aesthetic," the Huntsman chided. All the same, his staff gave off a green glow that hinted at the breadth of the entire dark cavern.

"Hey, Righty," Roman urged, "how bad would it kill you to turn on that gauntlet of yours for this?"

"The drain on my life force would be minimal," Mozenrath admitted. "All the same, I'm not doing it."

"I know what you're about to ask next," Wuya sighed, letting her hands glow softly as she held them above her head.

"YES!" Roman cheered. "Okay. That should be enough. The reflection off Lavender's disco-ball dress helps."

"Silence!" the Huntsman barked. "We don't want the dragon to hear us and escape."

And there was silence. First, confident silence. Then a faltering but still optimistic silence. Then, after an indeterminate but altogether too long amount of time, it became a frustrated silence.

"That dragon isn't coming," Mozenrath sighed.

A chorus of "Yeahhhhhhh"s echoed him.

"All right," the Huntsman grunted, deactivating his staff. "We shall have to flush the dragon out a different way."

"And that way is…?" Mozenrath asked.

"By doing what I am now aware we do best," the Huntsman answered. "We must draw the dragon out to protect its home. And that means making as big of a scene as we possibly can and drawing attention to ourselves."

"I like this plan a lot better," Aghoul stated.

The eleven spilled out into the daylight. "DESTROY ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING!" the Huntsman commanded, holding his staff up high.

"This is a MUCH better plan!" Aghoul laughed.

...

"I'm still unclear on some things," Adal informed those before him. "You say you met this…Mozenrath…where?"

"Somewhere there is no sea," Elaine filled in. "From what I gathered."

"Your story doesn't add up," Adal said dismissively. "How am I supposed to believe what you're saying when there are so many holes in what you've just told me?"

"Because it doesn't matter where Mozenrath came from," Yugo insisted. "Just that we have to worry about him now."

"Phaerys agrees," the dragon said somberly. "They are likely holding back because they know it is a truth you will not understand."

"For all we know, this 'Mozenrath' is a made-up character, and Qilby is still right where Yugo left him, imprisoned in…wherever that was," Adal stated. "This is just a waste of my time. I won't say your company is unwelcome, Princess Sheran Sharm, but do try to be more respectful of my precious time in the future." He allowed himself a chuckle. "I should have known your story was false when you said those preposterous things about shapeshifters and a man believing 'Madame Frou Frou' was a convincing alias."

"If you don't believe us, then fine," Sora snapped. "But at least – "

One of the guards burst into the room. "PRINCE ADAL!" she shrieked. "Invaders! On the island! There are HUNDREDS of them!"

"WHAT?" Adal cried, eyes widening in panic; he tried to act as though he was in control. "Send the troops!"

"They're already sent!" the guard panted. "Mofette is trying to hold them off, but there are too many!"

"Perhaps this is where you realize Phaerys is to be respected," Phaerys stated casually. "Phaerys will – "

"If WE can't hold them off, YOU can't!" Adal barked, seeming to have forgotten that only minutes earlier, he was terrified of the prospect of Phaerys mowing down his army.

"This sounds like a job for us!" Sora called his Keyblade to hand, twirling it before resting it at his hip.

"How did you…?" Adal stared in shock.

"MAYBE THIS IS SOME KIND OF MISUNDERSTANDING," Papyrus suggested. "PERHAPS IF WE OFFER OUR HAND IN FRIENDSHIP TO THESE INVADERS, THEY WILL LEAVE US ALONE!"

"Or they're worse than him," Stork chimed in, jabbing a thumb at Adal.

"HOW DARE YOU – " Adal sputtered.

"Oh, shut up!" Amalia groaned.

"Either way, yeah, should probably talk to them first," Stork agreed. "And then, if talking doesn't work…"

"Then we let Crescent Rose do the talking," Ruby suggested.

"Wait!" Adal yelled as Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, Stork, and Jasmine turned and bolted from the room. "If we can't stop them, then YOU definitely can't!"

"I have faith in my new friends," Yugo said firmly. "You should too."

"All the same, they could probably use some backup," Amalia suggested.

"Phaerys will be there," Phaerys promised.

Yugo, Amalia, and Phaerys all took their leave, and Adal simply stared after the door by which they'd left, blinking his wide eyes, trying to figure out what had just taken place and not sure whether to start processing these visitors' unbelievable optimism or their disrespect toward him.

...

All of the New Sufokian army was out in full force, piloting small mechs that were capable of firing energy blasts and dealing heavy physical damage to their opponents. They were led by General Mofette, a brunette woman with a pink marking over one eye, who had been more than enthusiastic about wiping out the threat when it was only ten people and a Bow Meow. And the rest of her army had been confident that victory was secure.

Once Wuya summoned up as many rock golems as she could, however, and said golems began clashing with the mechs, the attitude of the army changed to one of fear. Mofette, on the other hand, only became more determined.

"YOU'RE NOT TAKING ME DOWN THAT EASILY!" she shrieked, dealing blow after blow to the rock golem she faced with her vehicle's mechanical fists. "AS SOON AS I BLOW THROUGH THIS CREATURE, YOU'RE ALL – "

Three golems ganged up on her, shoving her mech backward so hard that it rolled over thrice.

"Do…we even get to do anything?" Mozenrath wondered out loud as he and his companions stood in the middle of the raging battle between Wuya's golems and the mechs. Only moments before, they had been tearing up every sign of civilization that fell into their field of vision. Wuya had rendered that unnecessary.

"We don't WANT to do anything to them, remember?" Wuya knocked on Mozenrath's head. "We're waiting for the dragon!"

"It still has not shown itself," the Huntsman grunted. "We must find it!" He charged down the street, and the others followed.

Meanwhile, Mofette had righted her mech. "It's been a while since I had a good challenge," she chuckled before rushing right back at the golems.

A Keyblade spun through the air, colliding into several golems at once. It flew back home into the hands of its owner, who jammed it into the chest of one of the impaired golems, collapsing it into rocky debris. A red scythe sliced through the body of one to the sound of its wielder screaming "EEEEYAAAAAAAAAH!" A barrage of bones slammed one of the golems in the face before one raven-haired human and one raven-haired Merb aimed simultaneous kicks to its chest, flooring it. Three thick vines erupted from the ground, restraining a golem while a pair of blue portals combined in the air to send a beam of deadly energy at its head, blowing the rock to bits. A dragon in humanoid form simply punched one of the golems to bits in one blow. The area was cleared, though the sounds of battle continued in the distance.

"Well," Ruby sighed as she stepped over the golem she'd chopped down, "talking to them didn't exactly work."

"I STILL DON'T LIKE THIS," Papyrus bemoaned.

"They're just rock, see?" Jasmine held up some of the leftover debris. "They're not really alive. It's an enchantment. I've seen magic like this before. Whoever is here is trying to fight us with this spell."

This was the scene the Huntsman came across, halting in his tracks, the rest of his company following. "YOU!" he yelled as soon as he locked eyes with Sora.

"IT'S YOU?" Sora yelled in surprise.

"ROMAN TORCHWICK!" Ruby angrily brandished Crescent Rose in Roman's direction. "I should have known you were behind this!"

"Little Red, Little Red," Roman taunted, shaking his head and clicking his tongue. "Is your dad really okay with you being this far away from home?"

"Rémington Smisse," Yugo grumbled. "You're just never satisfied, are you?"

"No," Rémington replied with a grin.

"Mozenrath," Jasmine growled, looking over the group…and flinching when she realized she recognized more than one person present. "And…Ayam Aghoul?"

"You know HIM too?" Sora cried.

"He tried to force me to marry him and become his servant!" Jasmine growled. "And that was just the FIRST time he tried something on me and my family."

"The offer still stands," Aghoul reminded her. "Of course, you pale in comparison to Mimsie, but – "

"NEVER," Jasmine spat. "I should have known you and Mozenrath would team up. You're cut from the same tapestry."

Mozenrath then confused all present by stating, "I take it I know her."

"Yes," Aghoul confirmed. "Princess Jasmine. She seems like a lovely desert rose, but she's covered in thorns."

"And she's…one of Maleficent's?"

"No. ALADDIN'S wife."

"Okay, that makes sense," Mozenrath said with a nod. "And that kid with the giant key is…"

"The one who's been following us around and hassling us since day one," Wuya answered dryly. "He keeps picking up new friends. We've met most of them before."

"Wait," Sora realized. "You don't remember us?"  
"That is none of your concern," the Huntsman growled, pointing his blazing huntstaff at Sora's heart. "Now move aside. You are obstructing…" He looked up, directly at Phaerys. "The dragon."

"YOU'RE the threat!" Ruby screamed.

"Phaerys does not fear you," Phaerys stated coldly.

"If you are Phaerys," the Huntsman replied, "then you should."

"Still wanna try and talk it out?" Stork asked Papyrus.

"IF WE DON'T TRY, THEN WE'LL NEVER KNOW IF WE COULD HAVE REACHED AN AGREEMENT," Papyrus replied. "BUT IF THEY DON'T LISTEN, THEN WE WILL FIGHT BRAVELY AND AWESOMELY!"

"Or anxiously and really wanting to hide in a closet," Stork suggested, "but your way works too."

"Right," Sora said with a nod. "We did say we'd try and talk it out first."

"Are you KIDDING me?" Roman laughed. He flipped the Cudgel up into his hand and aimed it at Ruby. "Here's your talk. We came here to kill a dragon. Apparently, that's the dragon we came here to kill, and you're standing right in front of him. Ergo, we now need to kill all of you, and maybe you'll FINALLY get off our backs."

"I still can't believe you!" Amalia groaned. "Making me think you were my friends! Promising me a new adventure! Letting me think you were the heroes, and I was going to be a hero with you! Especially whichever one of you was Madame Frou Frou!" Her eyes flitted until she saw a familiar face. "YOU!" she pointed at Snatcher. "I'll just have you know I DON'T APPRECIATE – "

"I HAVE HAD JUST ABOUT ENOUGH," Snatcher interrupted, "of your ceaseless talking. If I'd've known our longtime enemies would stoop to the low of bringing one of the subhumans along with them – "

The building tension finally snapped.

"SUB…HUMAN?" Amalia roared as two thick green vines burst from the ground at her command and wrapped around Snatcher's neck; Snatcher gagged and coughed, struggling to breathe. The Huntsman quickly slashed through the vines; Snatcher clutched his throat.

"Aaaaaand you're dead," Roman decided, turning the Cudgel and firing on Amalia.

Yugo quickly intercepted the blast with a portal, using a second portal to direct it right back at the WHAM ARMY. Before it could hit, the eleven scattered, charging at the group from different directions.

The air around Yugo's hands shimmered with a sea-green light; a short sword and a circular shield made of the same energy as his portals appeared in his hands. Gritting his teeth, he rushed the Huntsman. Wuya quickly intercepted him, leaping in between Yugo and the Huntsman and spinning to deal a roundhouse kick to the small Eliatrope. She hit harder than Yugo could counter, pushing him back. He raised his shield, blocking her next foot with it. He slashed out at her with his sword; she backflipped out of the way. She took a moment to contemplate blasting him with pure magic, but remembered the way he had redirected Roman's shot; nothing was stopping him from doing that to most anything she threw at him. Besides, she had spent a lot of energy calling up as many golems as she'd done. It was time to stick to a physical approach and focusing her magic on improving her own self rather than cutting down Yugo. She teleported behind him, attempting to grab him by both shoulders. He sank down into his own portal; she danced out of the way before he could stab her in the back. Thus began a game of teleportation cat-and-mouse.

Amalia withdrew a doll woven of leaves, casting it out onto the battlefield. "GO, DOLL!" she commanded. The doll enlarged to a giant size, its great round head lolling. It opened its stitched mouth to spit a barrage of seeds at Yzma, who cartwheeled repeatedly in order to dodge the blast. She took refuge under the firing trajectory, loading up her atlatl. A single dart flew through the air, piercing the doll directly in the chest. The doll convulsed, folding in upon itself until it had taken on a new shape, tinier than Amalia's foot, and lay unmoving.

"My doll!" Amalia rushed forward, scooping up what was now a tarantula made of leaves. "What did you do to my doll?"

"Something I would really rather have done to you," Yzma remarked, looking through the arsenal of darts she'd kept strapped to her leg. "Hm…out of spider, I see. Chipmunk will have to do."

"NO!" Amalia cried, flinging out her hand so that a plethora of vines exploded up through the metal ground, snaking toward Yzma. Yzma backflipped out of the way of the vines, and as they changed course to keep pursuit, she slashed through them all with the point of a dart. She simply threw the next dart at Amalia; the princess dodged it by a hair's breadth.

"You know, Jasmine," Aghoul said coyly as his scythe appeared in hand, "if you won't go for ''til death do us part,' perhaps you'd be better swayed by 'when death brings us together.'" The scythe blade arced through the air.

Jasmine slid under it, standing once it had completed its swing. "Not on your afterlife!" she grunted, slamming her fist hard into Aghoul's face. This threw him off balance just long enough for Jasmine to grab the shaft of the scythe; she and Aghoul tugged back and forth at it until Aghoul lost his grip. The moment Jasmine staggered back with the scythe, Aghoul called up an explosive skull, launching it. Jasmine maneuvered the scythe like a baseball bat, knocking the skull off into the distance where it exploded harmlessly. However, by the time she looked back to Aghoul, he simply remarked "There's more where that came from" as he held up three new skulls.

Stork's gaze never left the Huntsman; he planted himself right in front of the muscular warrior. "Don't even THINK about it!" he growled.

The Huntsman was close to replying, nearly whetting his blade on Stork, but a casual glance over Stork's shoulder told him he had no need. He simply stood in place, waiting as a bony finger tapped Stork's shoulder.

As a reflex, Stork turned to see who'd gotten his attention. "Wha – "

Ragdoll socked him in the face.

The Huntsman darted around Stork as the Merb twisted and crashed to the ground on his back. Glaring up at Ragdoll, he launched his feet upward, toes reaching out to grab Ragdoll and pull him down, but Ragdoll simply bent backward out of the way, all the way back that his hands touched the ground behind his ankles.

"Okay, WHAT?" Stork cried, scrambling into a sitting position.

"Prehensile toes," Ragdoll remarked. "Well, that's new. Color me impressed."

Stork gritted his teeth, standing to full height. "Okay. So you're double-jointed. That's not – "

As Ragdoll's hands were planted firmly on the ground, he lifted himself into a handstand, swinging both legs to wrap around Stork and flip him over onto the ground. "Triple, actually," Ragdoll corrected.

Stork swung his fists out toward Ragdoll's face; Ragdoll rolled out of the way with a high-pitched laugh. "We've only just met! No need to get so handsy!"

Snatcher and Papyrus almost literally bumped into each other. "Out of my way, monster," Snatcher growled, drawing his weapon.

"NOT UNLESS YOU APOLOGIZE FOR WHAT YOU SAID ABOUT AMALIA!" Papyrus insisted.

"You'll move if I so much as apologize?" Snatcher laughed. "Tempting bait, but I refuse. Moronic as they may be, I don't take orders from filthy monsters like you."

"I TAKE OFFENSE TO THAT!" Papyrus barked. "I BATHE QUITE FREQUENTLY!"

"The filth was metaphorical," Snatcher groaned as he raised the barrel of his gun.

Papyrus called up a wall of bright blue bones to shield him from the lightning blast. "SO WHAT YOU'RE SAYING," Papyrus clarified, "IS THAT YOU THINK I'M…"

"Lower than dirt!" Snatcher grunted, swinging his mallet around a couple times on the chain before throwing it, hoping to break the wall of bones. He was unsuccessful.

"BUT…I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS," Papyrus argued. "I AM…VERY COOL. AT LEAST, I THOUGHT I WAS VERY COOL."

"I don't care what TEMPERATURE you are!" Snatcher growled, stepping into a new position to circumvent the bone wall. "Just die like the vermin you are!" He launched the mallet again.

Papyrus was slow to call up the defensive wall this time; the mallet broke through the side of it and grazed him on the shoulder. He could feel that some damage had been done to his magical essence. "BUT…I'M NOT VERMIN," he said forlornly.

"Correction," Snatcher said gleefully, seeing that he was doing damage in more ways than one. "You're vermin. The plant princess is vermin. And so is the green monstrosity currently being strangled by Mr. Merkel."

"IT'S RAGDOLL!" Ragdoll called over to Snatcher from where he had Stork in a headlock.

Snatcher raised his gun, expecting to have thoroughly destroyed Papyrus' morale.

Instead, a wall of bones shot up from directly under him, launching him into the air. He came down hard on his back, giving a howl of pain; he could feel where each bone had jammed into his lower body.

"YOU CAN INSULT THE GREAT PAPYRUS ALL YOU WANT!" Papyrus insisted. "BUT I WILL ABSOLUTELY NOT ALLOW YOU TO INSULT HIS FRIENDS! WHICH, SINCE I AM PAPYRUS, MEANS MY FRIENDS!" Another wall of bones rose up under Snatcher, flinging him high and bringing him down hard again. Snatcher was quick to scramble to his feet, firing a bolt of lightning that was met with a hard shield before a barrage of blue bones launched through the air at him, spelling out the words "AMALIA AND STORK ARE VERY AWESOME PEOPLE!" About three-quarters of them, Snatcher was able to deflect with his mallet. A quarter of them simply pelted him.

Papyrus gave a glance over to where Stork had temporarily thrown Ragdoll off his back; Stork gave him a thumbs-up of appreciation before he found all four of Ragdoll's limbs wrapped tightly around his body, tasking him with finding a way to shake Ragdoll off.

With a cry, Ruby launched herself to land in front of Roman. "Okay, I get it!" she growled. "You can't afford to lose! The real world is cruel! I remember! But I decided a long time ago I was never going to give up! You don't have to, either! Whatever you're fighting, you can break free of it!"

"Oh, Red," Roman laughed. "I AM free now. Which doesn't make the real world any less punishingly unfair, but there are no strings on me. Which is more than I can say for your little robot friend." He paused and waited, only for Ruby to stare at him intensely, not making a move. "What? I thought for SURE that would send you into a blind rage. But the point is, I'm not going to just stop having fun just because I got the boss off my back. Even if that scorpion-tailed fuckface decides to show his face and try and make me relive the old days. If you thought I was some misguided fallen hero just waiting to rise again wearing a halo and a pair of white wings because I told you I had it rough, you are SO WRONG!"

Ruby very nearly missed the point of the speech, having zeroed in on a crucial detail. "You…KNOW the man with the scorpion tail?"

"Shut up!" Roman, realizing he'd revealed just a bit too much, charged Ruby, Cudgel brandished. She parried it with the blade of Crescent Rose. He struck again and again; she parried each time. She swung; he leapt over the blade, slamming the Cudgel into her face. As she staggered back, Roman lit up an explosive blast, streamlining it along the shaft of the Cudgel and using its hook to aim the shot; Ruby zipped out of the way at the last second, screaming as she swung Crescent Rose once more. This time, Roman ducked, rolling to grab Ruby's ankles and pull her down.

"WHO IS HE?" Ruby demanded, kicking Roman to get away from him and striking out with Crescent Rose once more. "WHO IS THE SCORPION MAN?"

"HE'S THE KING OF SHUT-THE-FUCK-UP-TOPIA!" Roman yelled back, rolling over and slamming the Cudgel's staff in between Crescent Rose and his body.

Sora planted himself right in front of the Huntsman, noticing Mozenrath close behind. "It's over!" he announced to the pair.

Before the Huntsman or Mozenrath could make a move, a great purple claw sliced through the air and knocked Sora over, eliciting a "WHOA!" from him. Mim, in the body of a great hulking Grimm, fired the Huntsman and Mozenrath a toothy grin.

"This little sundrop is mine!" Mim cackled. "Now you boys go bag us a dragon!"

Sora stood back up, Keyblade at the ready. "Do your worst!" he beckoned Mim.

"You asked for it!" Mim cackled, charging him.

Sora ducked under her swiping claws, firing an ice spell up at her chest, hoping to freeze her in her tracks. She broke through the crust of ice, expanding into a rhinoceros – one that Sora was now underfoot of. Sora quickly rolled to avoid being trampled. As he stood and ran, Mim chased, fixing to gore him with her horn.

Sora quickly sidestepped, letting her run on by. He launched the Keyblade in a Strike Raid, calling out, "TAKE THAT!" The blade collided with Mim, causing her to screech in frustration. The blade returned to Sora's hand, and he readied to throw it again.

Dual shots of hot energy that missed him by a millimeter caused him to stumble. "That's a nice sword you've got," Rémington remarked as he twirled both pistols. "I don't suppose it's up for trade?"

"Oh, please," Sora groaned, turning his attention to Rémington and charging, the Keyblade surrounding itself with the golden glow of an Ars Arcanum combo.

"Not even if I throw in both these guns?" Rémington asked casually as Sora grew closer.

"As if!" Sora snapped, raising his Keyblade.

"Some loyalty you have," the right-hand pistol grunted. "See if we work for you in the near future."

Rémington quickly drew his longsword from his back. "Suit yourself," he said. "I can probably beat you with what I have on anyway."

Sora and Rémington traded blow after blow, their blades clashing until Sora faltered, one of his ankles not moving when he willed it. As he tripped forward, he looked back to see Grany tugging the hem of his pant leg with his sharp little teeth. The Bow Meow let go once Sora had toppled far enough and landed on his stomach.

Rémington pressed the tip of his blade into Sora's back. "I could finish you off right now," he said.

"No, you couldn't!" Sora grunted. "I'm not done yet!"

"Well, then maybe it's a good thing I was planning on letting HER take care of you."

"Who's – "

There was a screech; Mim, in the form of a gigantic eagle, wrapped her claws around Sora, hoisting him high into the air. "You've got some fancy moves!" she laughed. "But can you survive a drop from a thousand feet in the air?" She rocketed upward.

Panicking, Sora turned the Keyblade on Mim, yelling, "FIRE!" A blossom of flames ignited Mim's feathers, and her grip slipped; Sora plunged. With a casting of "WIND!", Sora's descent was slowed to a gentle fall. He landed on his feet only to find himself facing down Rémington, his blade at the ready. Mim landed next to him, transforming into a hulking bear. "I could do this all day!" Mim laughed.

"Well, so can I!" Sora countered.

They charged, Grany darting up into the fray and launching at Sora's face.

Phaerys knew the Huntsman and Mozenrath were focused on reaching him, and he knew they would get to him, given the number of opponents his allies faced. His physical form rippled; he grew larger and larger until his shape was that of the dragon the Huntsman had expected. An enormous reptile, shaped much like Maleficent in her prime, Phaerys exhaled a burst of flame at the Huntsman.

Mozenrath was quick to put up a deflection shield in front of the Huntsman and himself; the fire roared around it and nearly singed both of them as it rippled past. Once the flames subsided, Mozenrath took down the shield, and the Huntsman charged, staff ablaze. He somersaulted under another jet of flame (which Mozenrath defended himself from using another shield), striking out at Phaerys.

Phaerys had deflection powers of his own; the staff hit a sea-green wall. The Huntsman pressed the blade ever harder, its gem glowing brightly. The staff was not the weapon borne by the leader of the Huntsclan for no reason. Slowly, it burned through the deflection shield until it burst through and pierced Phaerys' skin.

A whipping tail knocked the Huntsman aside. Phaerys, realizing the danger, flapped his wings, taking to the skies. He gave another breath of fire from above; Mozenrath and the Huntsman scrambled to avoid it, running here and there until Phaerys ran out of steam.

Mozenrath then rushed to the Huntsman, yelling, "FOLLOW HIM!"

"I cannot just – " the Huntsman began.

Mozenrath thrust his hand out, palm first, enveloping the Huntsman in blue light. The Huntsman was lifted off the ground at Mozenrath's will. "You can now," the young sorcerer said with a smirk.

"You're controlling my flight," the Huntsman observed. "Can I trust you?"

"As much as I can trust you."

"Then bring me to the dragon."

Mozenrath steered the Huntsman around Phaerys' next blast and toward the body of the dragon himself. He breezed the Huntsman past quickly enough for the Huntsman to score another wound on Phaerys' side, then flew him to safety before setting up the next angle for another shot. Phaerys wheeled about in the air to try and avoid the Huntsman's path, but Mozenrath was just quick enough to react, directing the Huntsman accordingly. The Huntsman found that Mozenrath seemed to have a knack for picking the direction the Huntsman himself would have chosen next.

As Phaerys and the Huntsman soared around each other in the air, the compass worked itself loose from the Huntsman's clothing, dropping to the ground. It did not break upon impact; it was constructed too well for that. However, its needle was beginning to shift course ever so slightly, hinting at the goings-on within the center of the island.

...

From within the inner cavern, Qilby, Hades, and Tyrian could hear the sounds of war breaking loose on the island. "Yeesh," Hades remarked with a dramatic shiver. "Forget Peleus and Thetis' wedding. THAT'S a scene out there."

"Is something wrong, friend?" Tyrian asked Qilby teasingly, noticing the older Eliatrope pacing around the edges of the cave. "Something…missing, perhaps?"

"No," Qilby lied. "Nothing at all."

He had hoped against hope that perhaps she would still be there. After all, he had held her egg, her Dofus, in this very island. His twin sister, the dragon Shinonome. He had last seen her in the dimension where the young Eliatropes hid away. She had refused to hatch and become reborn; she had told Qilby in no uncertain terms that she wanted his cycle of destruction to end. She had declared herself his enemy. And yet she was his sister all the same, and he had spent so much time alone, truly alone. Even now, with two traveling companions, Qilby was alone. He knew either of them could turn on him at a moment's notice, especially if they knew part of his agenda involved chasing something as sentimental as an infant sister. He had desperately wanted the dofus to still be here, on the Crimson Claws, where he had long ago left it. But he knew it was time to stop fooling himself. Shinonome was gone. Probably, he theorized, with Balthazar, the dragon who guarded the Eliatrope children. The only one who'd ever truly understood him had turned her back on him, and it weighed on him in full that he was, in fact, alone. It was a horrifying prospect, but not an unfamiliar one.

"I simply wondered why Phaerys confined himself to such a dank and ugly place," Qilby went on, covering his tracks further.

"All the better for our little plan," Tyrian cackled. "Though you were SO quick to suggest this island. One must wonder if it holds some sort of…sentimental value?" He cocked his head toward Qilby.

"I suggested this island because it is isolated," Qilby snapped.  
"Isolated," Tyrian repeated. "Not unlike you were isolated – "

"There is no meaning to it!" Qilby interrupted. "Your plan required locations that were distant from each other. This island is far, far away from any land in all directions. All we must do now is set up the device."

"You mean this doohickey?" Hades held out his palm, and from a ball of flame, a sphere erupted to hover over it. The sphere was covered in living eyes, their pupils flitting rapidly about.

Qilby flinched. "The fact that you were able to do that means you are immune to it."

"Perks of being a god, babe," Hades reminded him. "Let's just get this thing put in place and get out."

"Not without leaving a little clue for our pursuers," Tyrian cackled. "You know, I half expected them to be waiting here to ambush us. How do you think they would feel if they knew we were right under their noses?"

"I'll tell you once I see the looks on their faces," Qilby answered.

...

The WHAM ARMY already had a clue.

One of Amalia's vines knocked Yzma to the ground, where her face planted not too far from the compass that had fallen from the sky. Recognizing it immediately, she scooped it up into her hands. The needle was beginning to shift. It moved just a tick one way, then just a tick in the opposite direction, before turning around and pointing exactly the way the Incurable Blight had come.

"MIM!" Yzma yelled, noting Mim, Rémington, and Grany triple-teaming Sora. "COVER ME!" She sprang away from Amalia's next attack.

Mim, at the time, was occupying the form of a plump griffon, sharp lion claws tearing at Sora while she tried to impale him with her eagle beak. Sora had somehow been ready for even that level of attack, countering her with a series of blows followed by a Ragnarok strike that unleashed a rain of fireworks. This drove her back just long enough for Sora to deal with Rémington rushing at him with the giant longsword. That was when Yzma had issued her command, and Mim turned to see Yzma running away from Amalia at full tilt. Figuring the Smisse brothers could handle Sora on their own, Mim galloped toward Amalia, skidding in between her and Yzma. She gave a loud screech before leaping into the air and divebombing the Sadida princess. Amalia's vines tangled up around Mim, only just holding her back; they strained as Mim struggled, beak snapping inches away from Amalia.

Yzma had a brief observance of most of the battlefield as she made her way to Mozenrath. Aghoul had wrested his scythe back from Jasmine, and as he swung it, both Jasmine and Yzma leapt over the flying blade, Jasmine to dodge and Yzma simply trying to carve a path. Yzma had to stop and wait a moment for Stork and Ragdoll to cross her path – the former was throwing a series of rapid-fire punches while the latter was avoiding them by simply flipping over backward again and again, taking Stork on a chase. As a wall of bones went up between Papyrus and Snatcher, Yzma found herself running on top of it momentarily before leaping to the ground. One of Yugo's portals accidentally brought her ten feet backward, along with Wuya; Wuya quickly countered by bringing both herself and Yzma twenty feet forward before giving Yzma an encouraging clap on the back. Yzma never broke stride. She ducked to the ground and slid underneath a blast from the Melodic Cudgel on her knees, propelled forward slightly by its explosion. She dropped to her stomach to crawl beneath Sora and Rémington's clashing blades, rising to a stand when she was finally near Mozenrath.

"The Eliacube!" she screeched as she ran toward him, pointing frantically at the compass. "IT'S GETTING AWAY!"

"Not important right now," Mozenrath told her through gritted teeth, focusing on directing the Huntsman's flight.

"Not IMPORTANT now?" Yzma's jaw dropped. "But I – you – IT'S THE ENTIRE REASON WE'RE HERE!"

"And right NOW, the reason we're on this island is to murder this dragon," Mozenrath retorted.

Yzma growled through gritted teeth. "You know what? I'm holding the compass. Technically, you should be listening to me right now instead of flying the Huntsman around like some sort of toy airplane!"

"That's on a technicality," Mozenrath told her. "Officially, the Huntsman is still in charge. Though if you keep distracting me, I'll slip up, he'll die, and you won't have the competition anymore. Is that what you want?"

"Fine," Yzma seethed. "You know what? I give up. I just want to know…why? You all complain that I'm the one with the harebrained schemes, and yet in the moment of truth, I'm the only one who still has any sense of our original goal whatsoever while the rest of you are playing war games. What do I have to do to earn your respect? I mean, I'm practically babysitting this entire team! When you think about it – "

She paced back and forth behind Mozenrath, ranting on and on as Mozenrath did his best to tune her out.

"Just give it up, Red," Roman taunted as he and Ruby traded blows. "You've had a good run, but today's not your day. This will be the day WE'VE waited for."

"I've beaten you before!" Ruby insisted, twirling Crescent Rose before going in for another swing. "I can do it again!"

"You're a KID, Red," Roman reminded her, sidestepping the arcing blade. "You shouldn't be exploring the great unknown and taking on people who are way, way above your level. You should be playing video games with milk and cookies on standby. Maybe if you had decided to be a good girl and stay home, you wouldn't have to take the worst of THIS!" As he waxed, he had been running another blast of energy along the Cudgel, and he hooked it toward Ruby. She was caught off guard, thrown across the field with a scream.

Snatcher, in the meantime, was trying a new tactic. Papyrus was sending waves of bones at him; he had sheathed his weapon, now attempting to catch the bones and throw them back. He was slightly successful, pelting Papyrus with his own projectiles while taking hits from them that were more annoying than anything.

"PLEASE STOP!" Papyrus begged. "THERE HAS TO BE SOME OTHER WAY! I, TOO, ONCE BELIEVED THE ONLY WAY TO PROVE ONESELF WAS IN BATTLE. BUT THEN I LEARNED THAT THERE ARE OTHER PATHS TO VICTORY!"

"My path to victory begins with CRUSHING YOU," Snatcher emphasized as he caught a rather large bone and launched it right back where it came from. It struck Papyrus vertically across the chest, sending him flying.

Ruby and Papyrus' courses of flight were aimed in the same direction, and they collided hard with Sora, bowling him over. Rémington's blade cut down through empty air, striking the metal of the ground. The three heroes tumbled for a short while before coming to rest.

"Okay, taking on this many of them is harder than usual," Ruby admitted from her spot atop the pile.

Papyrus, in the middle, announced, "THE ONE IN THE RED HAT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO TALK TO."

"We can't give up!" Sora insisted from the nadir of the pile. "We have to keep fighting!"

"But we're just wasting our time!" Ruby wailed. "We're stuck here fighting Roman and the others while Mozenrath and the big scary one are going to kill Phaerys!"

"SPEAKING OF ROMAN TORCHWICK AND HIS FRIENDS…" Papyrus pointed out.

Rémington, Snatcher, Roman, and Grany were advancing upon the downed trio with matching malicious grins.

"Then we have to show them what we're made of," Sora insisted. "Are you with me?"

"I AM!" Papyrus asserted.

"Me too!" Ruby added.

Sora, Ruby, and Papyrus became surrounded in a flash of brilliant light; their silhouettes within the illumination became blurred and faded into each other. To the surprise of Roman, Snatcher, and the Smisses, Ruby and Papyrus completely disappeared. Sora hovered in the air, his feet dangling two inches above the ground before he gently touched down. His appearance had changed; his clothing was now all bright red, with a short hooded cape flowing halfway down his back and a metal breastplate shielding his chest. In one hand, he held his standard Keyblade. In the other, he carried a black Keyblade with a skull wrought into the handle and teeth shaped like a bat's wings: the Pumpkinhead. Floating by his side was a third blade: the Divine Rose, with teeth shaped like the flower it bore the name of and a purple shaft patterned with a green, thorny vine.

Inside Sora's head, he could hear two familiar voices. "WHAAAAAT JUST HAPPENED?" Ruby cried.

"I DO NOT KNOW," Papyrus replied. "WE ARE…SOMEHOW ALL SHARING THE SAME BODY?"

"It's a Drive," Sora realized. "We got into a Drive by accident."

"You know how to undo it and get our bodies back," Ruby moaned, "right? RIGHT?"

"Yeah," Sora promised. "But with the three of us working together in the same body, we're a lot more powerful. I say we run with it while we can!"

"Okay, Spike, who are you talking to?" Roman asked, confused.

"And where did the other two get off to?" Snatcher wondered out loud.

"Forget it," Rémington told them. "It's three on one – "  
"EH-HEM!" Grany coughed.

"Four on one," Rémington corrected. "This should be easy."

"You fucked up big time, Spike," Roman said with a smirk.

Then all three charged.

One Keyblade was put to work countering the strikes of the Cudgel. The second staved off Snatcher's mallet. The third clashed with Rémington's longsword, holding it in a lock. As all three weapons threatened to cave in on Sora, he ducked down and dashed away, Ruby's super speed now integrated into his physiology. Realizing this, he turned an about-face and sped past all three of his human opponents, Keyblades spinning as he knocked the shafts into each of them. Grany, at this time, attempted to leap up onto Sora's face in order to hold him at bay; he was repelled by a shield of bright blue bones.

"THIS IS REALLY COOL!" Papyrus exclaimed from within.

"The three of us sync up pretty good," Ruby agreed. "Now CHAAAARGE!"

Surrounded by four enormous whirling bones for protection, Sora rushed back the other way at Rémington, Snatcher, and Roman. All three opened fire with their guns; the energy was deflected off the bones, allowing Sora to get close enough to attempt another strike. Rémington jumped back, out of the way. Snatcher attempted another shot; his electric projectile was deflected in such a way that it struck Rémington right in the chest and bowled him over.

"REMY!" Grany howled.

"SMISSE!" Snatcher barked.

"I'm fine," Rémington grunted from where he lay on the ground.

Roman rushed Sora, the Cudgel clashing against all three Keyblades. The Pumpkinhead and Divine Rose clashed in an X formation to block the Cudgel's shaft; as they pushed forward and apart, they sent Roman staggering back. A wall of bones rose up behind Roman's legs, tripping him and sending him down.

Sora then charged at Snatcher, who waited until the last moment to spin out of the way, sending Sora running at nothing. Snatcher then rushed to haul Roman to his feet; Roman fired the hook of the Cudgel at Rémington, who grabbed onto it in order to be pulled up when the hook retracted. When Sora turned about, he saw all three of his foes standing across from him, looking ready for another round if a little less auspicious about their chances against him.

"It's not enough!" Ruby insisted.

"DON'T WE HAVE ANY OTHER COOL SUPERPOWERS WE CAN USE TO GET THEM TO STOP?" Papyrus suggested.

"You want cool powers?" Sora responded. "Then hang on!"

"Hang on to what with what?" Ruby said quickly.

Sora began to spin, Keyblades whirling round and round; as part of Ruby's influence, rose petals were visible on the current as well. He became a tornado, drawing in air. As he spun, he drew closer to Roman, Rémington, and Snatcher, the draw of the wind tugging at the edges of their clothing.

"RUN!" Rémington barked, and the trio turned tail. However, they couldn't get far and were soon sucked into the whirl, thrown in a circular motion round and round until they were disoriented completely. The Keyblades collided with them, further knocking them off kilter.

A bright light built up within Sora, and when he reached the apex of his spin speed, he let the light explode outward, the three Keyblades rushing on the shockwave. The impact caused Snatcher, Roman, and Rémington to collapse to the ground, unconscious.

"Rémy?" Grany poked his brother's head with a paw. "Oh, no, no, no – "

Sora stared down at the Bow Meow. "Wanna be next?" he asked.

Grany took off across the field, screaming, "YZMAAAAAAAA!"

"What now?" Ruby asked.

"We turn this battle around," Sora replied. He turned his sights to Aghoul. "Everybody agreed on this one?"

"LET'S GO!" Papyrus confirmed.

"It's as if rescuing him from the City of Old Emperors was one hundred percent the Huntsman's doing!" Yzma ranted on, still pacing. "Did I cross the entire Swamps of Sadness in ridiculously hideous boots just to be ignored when I have something important to say? Apparently so, according to this one! If the Huntsman comes out of this with the job, I'll have no choice but to turn him into a – "

"YZMA!" Grany screamed, running up to her and clawing at the hem of her gown. "Rémy is down! And Roman and Archibald are down with him!"

"WHAT?" Yzma sputtered.

"LOOK!" Grany extended a paw to where the fallen criminals lay.

"MOZENRATH!" Yzma seized Mozenrath's shoulders, spinning him by force to face her. "Snatcher, Roman, and Rémington are all unconscious! Hopefully, this is what will get you to LISTEN to me and LEAVE NOW!"

Mozenrath looked over her shoulder to confirm that she was correct. Hastily, he snapped his fingers, and the Huntsman disappeared from his flight, now standing beside Mozenrath.

"WHY DID YOU BRING ME DOWN?" the Huntsman roared. "I HAD NEARLY SEALED THAT DRAGON'S FATE!"

"Three of us are down," Mozenrath informed him. "I hate to break it to you, but if we don't want our nemeses to seal THEIR fate, I suggest a retreat."

"I don't CARE!" the Huntsman barked. "We can cover for and protect them! Notify me when it is FOUR of our number."

There was a yowl of pain from across the field before Sora tossed Aghoul's limp, unconscious body to lie next to Snatcher, Roman, and Rémington.

"It's four," Mozenrath stated casually.

The Huntsman growled under his breath, knowing what had to be done. "CIRCLE THE FALLEN!" he yelled across the field, barreling toward the downed quartet. "WEAPONS OUTWARD!"

He, Mozenrath, Yzma, Wuya, Mim, Ragdoll, and Grany formed a ring around Roman, Rémington, Snatcher, and Aghoul, their backs to their fallen comrades and their weapons aimed out. Sora (still locked in a Drive with Ruby and Papyrus), Stork, Jasmine, Yugo, and Amalia closed in on them from the outside, glaring daggers. Phaerys landed, fixing his gaze upon the WHAM ARMY as well.

"Wuya," the Huntsman whispered. "Bring us all back to the Blight."

"Working on it," Wuya whispered back.

Yzma, meanwhile, fumbled with a tiny vial she'd kept hidden within her clothing: an elixir brewed from the extract of Selenipedium, intended for protection.

"Let's finish this," Sora commanded. "CHARGE!"

As Sora and his friends barreled toward the WHAM ARMY, Yzma threw the vial to the ground and smashed it with the toe of one shoe. A bright pink shockwave was thrown outward from the WHAM ARMY, pushing Sora and company backward, even causing Phaerys to reel somewhat.

In the diversion, Wuya finished casting a short-range teleportation spell to bring the eleven onto the Incurable Blight, which was still cloaked in the harbor. The ship was launched, slipping between the military submarines as the sounds of gunfire and explosions echoed from the island it left behind.

Sora shuddered; in a burst of light, Ruby and Papyrus broke away from him, taking on their own forms once more. "THAT WAS SO COOL!" Papyrus squealed. "YOU CALLED THAT A DRIVE. WHAT IS A DRIVE?"

"Something Keybearers can do with their friends," Sora explained. "It gives us special powers by combining all our abilities. It takes a lot of energy to hold one together, though. What'd you think, Ruby?"

"Two arms," Ruby muttered, "two legs – " She quickly patted herself down. "Okay. Good. All here. That was really, REALLY weird. But really fun."

"Um, I don't know if you noticed," Stork pointed out, "but we kind of have bigger priorities. Like the fact that Mozenrath GOT AWAY, AND WE DON'T KNOW WHERE HE WENT."

"Looks like the search is on," Sora declared.

"We need to clean up the rest of this island first," Jasmine pointed out.

"Of course!" Sora said with a nod. "After those guys, the giant rock things will be no problem!"

"Especially against Phaerys," Phaerys emphasized, shifting back into his more humanoid form.

"Are you all right?" Jasmine asked the dragon.

"Phaerys has wounds," he replied, "but none that will be fatal. Phaerys can continue fighting."

"But how can I?" Amalia wailed. "My doll got turned into an ugly little spider! I need it in order to fight!"

"IT DIDN'T LOOK THAT WAY TO ME," Papyrus told her. "YOUR AMAZING PLANT POWERS MADE UP FOR IT!"

"You really think they're amazing?" Amalia said coyly.

"I say less talk, more stopping the rock things from destroying the entire island," Stork suggested.

"Good call," Yugo agreed.

They made a beeline for the distant sounds of combat, ready to go to work.

...

The rock golems were subdued, shattered, and cleaned up within a matter of time. Some of the New Sufokian mechs had sustained damage, but there were no casualties.

Yugo, Amalia, Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, Stork, Jasmine, and Phaerys returned to Adal in order to bring him the news that the threat was under control. Elaine and Encre Noir listened from the corner of the room.

"Prince Adal," Yugo insisted, "Phaerys was the one who destroyed most of the golems in the end. Your military was having trouble against them. If you needed a reason to respect Phaerys and his space, this was it. This island might have been in real trouble without him."

Adal sighed. "Then I will ensure the boundaries we set are enforced. You have my word. And if I should break the agreement, do what you will." His tone was begrudging, but altogether sincere.

"Thank you," Phaerys replied.

"As for the rest of your story…" Adal slammed his fist on the map table. "What is the meaning of all of this? Sorcerers? Three people turning into one person with three weapons? And how did you know this Ayam Aghoul? I've had just about enough of being kept in the dark! Explain at once!"

"Or what?" Amalia asked smugly, arms folded. "You'll attack cohorts of the Sadida princess who are under her protection? THAT would be an act of war!"

"Well, I want to know what's going on too!" Elaine chimed in. "There's a very important piece of the story we're all missing! I won't say you can't sail with us if you don't tell it, but I can say it won't be a very comfortable ride!"

"You have proven yourselves to be quite powerful," Adal added. "If I do not know where you are from, I will not know where to watch for a potential threat. Keeping secrets while wielding such power may just convince me that YOU are the threat."

"Well…" Sora looked to Ruby, Papyrus, Stork, and Jasmine. All of them nodded their heads; with pressure like this, it was time to tell. "All right. The truth is…Mozenrath is a big deal because he and his friends are from other worlds." He sighed. "And so are we."


	41. Hatching Plans

41\. Hatching Plans

"We know," Yugo and Amalia said in unison, bright smiles plastering their faces.

That was perhaps the last thing Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, Stork, and Jasmine expected to hear in response to confessing that they'd come from other worlds. "Uhhh…how?" Ruby asked, confounded.

"I'm an Eliatrope," Yugo reminded them. "I've been reborn over and over. I've had hundreds of lives, though I always forget what happened in the last one as soon as the next one begins. Apparently, though, I'm the king of the Eliatropes, and we all used to live on another world as well. A terrible attack forced me to lead my people away from that world, and over our many lives, we moved to different worlds throughout the Krosmoz. I was starting to suspect you were from another world just because I've never seen anyone like Stork and Papyrus before. Then, when Stork mentioned being from somewhere with no sea, that confirmed it!"

Adal was stunned to the point of simply staring at the group, unsure of what to say. His eye twitched.

"You'd better count yourself lucky none of them are royalty," Phaerys told him, "what with the way you treated them."

"Actually…" Sora stepped back and gestured to Jasmine.

"She's…" Adal sputtered.

"Princess of Agrabah," Jasmine confirmed.

"I…humbly offer my apologies," Adal muttered.

"You're forgiven," Jasmine told him with a smile and a nod, "on the condition that you take all the respect you think you owe me and pay it to Phaerys."

"Of course," Adal said with a quick nod.

"So what world ARE you from?" Amalia asked.

"All different ones," Sora told her. "I'm from the Destiny Islands. Lots of sea there."

"Atmos," Stork added. "All the nations are separated by a wasteland of horrors."

"Remnant," Ruby stated. "Four kingdoms, four schools for combat, everything is powered by Dust, which is, uhhhhh…you'd probably call it magic, but it's really not."

"Agrabah, in the Seven Deserts," Jasmine said proudly. "Not really much sea there either, and things can get pretty hot. In temperature and in excitement."

"THE TOWN OF KNIGHTDOCK, THOUGH FORMERLY FROM MT. EBOTT," Papyrus volunteered. "BOTH ON THE SAME WORLD. MONSTERS LIKE ME LIVED UNDERGROUND FOR A VERY LONG TIME BEFORE A BRAVE AND UNSTOPPABLE HUMAN BROUGHT EVERYONE TOGETHER!"

"This is so cool!" Elaine gushed.

"Ever been to any of our worlds?" Sora asked Yugo.

Yugo shook his head. "The sad thing is that most of the worlds the Eliatropes lived on have been destroyed. And it's all Qilby's fault."

"I'm sorry," Jasmine told him.

"It's fine," Yugo insisted. "I don't remember any of them, after all. What happened was still horrible, but it's in the past."

"Your highness," Adal said with a pointed look at Jasmine, "I am, of course, all in favor of you discussing your experiences with other worlds, but I do have much business to attend to – "

"Of course," Jasmine agreed. "We need to be moving on, anyway. We have to figure out where Mozenrath is headed next."

"Thank you for protecting this island," Phaerys said stoically. "And for protecting Phaerys."

"It's what we do!" Ruby chirped.

"Well," Sora resolved, "let's get a move on."

He, Ruby, Jasmine, Stork, Papyrus, Amalia, Yugo, Elaine, and Encre Noir made their way out of the diplomatic facility and headed for the small ship they'd come in on.

"I can't believe this!" Amalia gushed, staring at Jasmine. "Another princess, all this time, and I never knew!" She then blinked, her expression souring. "You are a princess, right? That wasn't just something you made up to get Adal to shut his mouth?"  
"I'm a real princess," Jasmine confirmed.

"We have so much to talk about!" Amalia cried. "What's your kingdom like? How many servants do you have? Is there a handsome prince in your life? Or another princess, perhaps? What is your daily routine like? Oh, I suppose it must have gotten all messed up when you had to come all the way out here chasing Mozenrath."

"I'll tell you more about my life," Jasmine promised, "if you tell me more about yours. I want to know the answer to every question you asked me."

"Ugh." Elaine rolled her eyes. "Princess talk. Tell me the rest of you aren't royalty. Her Snootiness is bad enough."

"HEY!" Amalia barked.

"Nah, the rest of us are just ordinary people," Sora confirmed. "Well, okay…we're not royalty. There's not really anything 'ordinary' about the rest of us. Isn't that right?"

"Ruby's really the closest thing we have around here to 'normal,'" Stork pointed out.

"Um…I haven't told you about the silver eyes thing, have I?" Ruby realized.

"Is this something I should be afraid of?" Stork asked.

"Uhhh…no?" Ruby was unsure. "I'm…not really sure how it works…but it's not anything more dangerous than what we've been doing for this entire journey. Actually, it's supposed to HELP with the dangerous stuff, if I could figure it out…"

"It must be fate that we're traveling together, then," Amalia stated. "Yugo is the least ordinary person there ever was on this world, and that's what makes him so great!"

"We're all great," Sora decided.

Then, to his surprise, he was given a reply of "WELL…PERHAPS SOME OF US ARE NOT AS GREAT AS WE THOUGHT WE WERE" from Papyrus.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ruby asked.

"THAT MAN I WAS FIGHTING," Papyrus confessed. "HE TOLD ME I WAS LOWER THAN DIRT. AND HE SAID AMALIA AND STORK WERE…I DON'T EVEN WANT TO SAY IT! I KNOW IT'S NOT TRUE ABOUT YOU TWO. BUT EVER SINCE WE MONSTERS CAME UP TO THE SURFACE FROM BELOW MT. EBOTT, I HAVE ADMITTEDLY HEARD OTHER HUMANS SAY THE SAME THINGS ABOUT US. IF SO MANY PEOPLE FROM DIFFERENT WORLDS ARE SAYING THE SAME THING…I DON'T WANT TO BELIEVE IT ABOUT ASGORE OR SANS OR UNDYNE. BUT…AM I LESS THAN HUMAN BECAUSE I AM A MONSTER?"

"Don't even ask that!" Sora replied, stunned. "Of COURSE you're not!"

"You're actually a lot better at being a person than a lot of humans I know," Stork chimed in. "No offense to present company."

"And so are the others we met," Ruby said with a nod. "They weren't human, but they were people. They were friends! I'm still a little jealous of Undyne. She's awesome."

"And so are you," Sora insisted.

"I agree," Yugo said emphatically.

"If there are more people like you, they can't be bad!" Amalia added.

"THEN WHY DO SO MANY PEOPLE SAY – " Papyrus began.

"Papyrus." Jasmine planted herself in front of him, facing him down, taking up both of his hands into her own. "The only reason people say those things is because on every world, people like to make themselves feel powerful by making other people feel bad. And when people are different from each other, they end up thinking of each other as the enemy. I remember…someone I knew once. A friend. I thought he was an enemy at first because he was so different. He had powers kind of like Amalia's, and he saw plants as his children. He said he was heartless, maybe because that was what humans had told him all his life. But as I got to know him, it turned out that wasn't true. He just saw things differently than we humans did because he wasn't human, and he could see a lot of beauty that we missed. He…ended up dying because people didn't understand him. Because he was different. And I don't EVER want that to happen again. He was every bit as good as a human, and he deserved to live to know that. Just like you and your friends and family are just as good as humans. I want you to promise me that you won't EVER let anyone make you feel like that's not the truth again."

Papyrus brightened noticeably. "I PROMISE," he said enthusiastically. "I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT I WAS THINKING."

Jasmine nodded, letting go of Papyrus' hands and falling into step beside him. "It's easy to let things other people say get to us," she stated.

"You gotta listen to what your real friends say," Sora emphasized. "That's what matters. And we say you, Undyne, Mettaton, and the whole crew are the best! Monsters shouldn't have anything to hide because of us humans!"

"Humans are kind of jerks," Ruby agreed.

"Besides," Sora brought up, "I know that guy you were fighting. That HAD to be Archibald Snatcher, and he gets his way by making stuff up like that to tear people apart."

"No wonder he's friends with Mozenrath," Ruby said with a flinch. "They're both gross."

"I still can't wrap my head around this," Jasmine admitted. "They can't really all be friends, can they?"

"A lot of weird things are going on," Sora pointed out. "Mozenrath didn't even REMEMBER us. And he didn't remember YOU. I wonder if maybe he lost his memory. It happens more often than you'd think."

"That would certainly explain why he's playing so well with others," Jasmine theorized.

"What about that other one you knew?" Yugo asked. "Are you, him, and Mozenrath all from the same world?"

"Ayam Aghoul," Jasmine spat.

"He's gross too, isn't he?" Ruby asked.

"You have no idea," Jasmine huffed. "We first met when he tried to force me to marry him and join his legion of wives that serve him without question."

"How disgusting!" Amalia stuck out her tongue. "To think of you being married to that horrible, horrible creature and having to do everything he says!"

"I managed to escape him with a little help from my friends," Jasmine explained, "and from my prince charming." This last sentiment was directed at Amalia, along with a wink.

"You DO have someone!" Amalia squealed. "Ooh, how romantic! Tell me everything! But first, you should probably tell us about this Ayam person."

"On a scale of background panic to just having crash-landed in the Black Gorge, how afraid should we be of this guy?" Stork asked.

"I'm afraid he's very powerful," Jasmine said somberly. "It all depends on what kind of magic he's found to take advantage of. Once, he nearly caused the death of everyone in Agrabah by stealing their shadows."

"I think you better tell us everything," Stork implored. "From the beginning."

The group, now confirmed to be entirely extraordinary, walked up the gangplank onto Encre Noir's meager ship. "While she tells us about Ayam," Encre Noir suggested, "we need to set sail. Where to?"

"We don't know," Yugo sighed.

"THAT JUST MEANS ANY ONE PLACE IS AS GOOD AS THE NEXT!" Papyrus suggested.

"All right," Encre Noir resolved. "We'll just head for the nearest port on the mainland."

The small ship launched out to sea as Jasmine spun the sordid tale of how Ayam Aghoul had used his failed plot to abduct her as a catalyst for revenge upon all of Agrabah.

At one point, Sora commented, "I don't see what anybody would ever see in him to marry him anyway. He's just too horrible. Who would ever actually WANT to be with him?"

...

It was around then that Ayam Aghoul awoke, his head resting in Mim's lap.

"Well, well," he said with a sly smile. "Aren't you a sight to make sore eyes hurt more."

"You're no prize yourself," Mim said slyly as she ran a single finger up the side of his face.

"Ugggghhh…" From across the deck of the Incurable Blight, another unconscious passenger's return to the realm of the waking became audible. "Everything hurts," Roman groaned.

"Owww," another voice chimed in. Snatcher delicately hoisted himself into a sitting position, muttering, "My aching back…"

Rémington's eyes snapped open. He took a moment to discern where, exactly, he was. "Well," he stated calmly, "I can safely say I've woken up in weirder places and sore in stranger spots." He fluidly stood, pushing past the aches, and stalked over toward where the rest of the conscious were gathered around the Huntsman.

He was stopped when Mim tugged on the edge of his cape. "Don't think I've forgotten about you, you nasty little infection."

"Not at all." Rémington's smile was as coy as Aghoul's.

"Did you forget about me?"

"Quite the opposite." He swept down and kissed her lips firmly before standing and continuing on his way.

Yes, Mim thought to herself, she'd made the right choice twice over.

"So, uh…what the hell WAS that?" Roman asked as he stood shakily. "That fusion thing. Pretty sure Red's never done THAT with her little friends before."

"If I had to guess…a Keybearer warrior technique," the Huntsman mused. "Our teenaged nuisance has already demonstrated himself capable of strange magical tactics. That, or a spell cast by the monster. In any case, the more our enemy grows in numbers in that corner, the more carefully we must tread."

"You know I hate treading carefully," Roman sighed.

"As do I," the Huntsman admitted.

"You're the one who – "  
"I am aware."

Yzma chose that moment to very loudly clear her throat. All eyes focused upon her.

"Yes…?" the Huntsman replied tentatively.

Yzma simply stretched out her arm toward him, her open palm facing upward. When nothing happened, she stabbed the index finger of her opposite hand into it.

"I take it you believe it is your time to lead," the Huntsman stated sourly.

"I think if you have that compass any longer," Yzma seethed, "you're going to turn us right back around to go after that dragon, and next time, one of us will end up dead."

The Huntsman stared her down for a good minute before retrieving the compass from his pocket and placing it firmly in her hand. Her long, spidery fingers curled around it as she pulled it close.

"Now," she muttered, "to business."

"Just like that," Mozenrath snapped. "We were just beaten by a bunch of CHILDREN and what I understand were a pair of dainty little royal GIRLS."

He immediately felt a zap of light magic run through him, causing a slight pain throughout his body. He whirled on the responsible party: Wuya. "WHAT WAS THAT FOR?"

"That's what I do to you every time you make a sexist comment," Wuya said dryly. "If you're going to play on a co-ed team, you're going to play nice."

"All right," Mozenrath corrected with gritted teeth. "We were beaten by a pair of highly skilled female warriors."

"Better," Wuya said with a nod.

"But still, at least three CHILDREN," Mozenrath went on. "Have they ALWAYS been this much more powerful than us?"

In the meantime, Aghoul had stood as well, poking Snatcher in the upper arm while sending a surge of hurtful magic through the active finger.

"What was THAT for?" Snatcher growled.

"If Wuya gets to zap him for being sexist," Aghoul stated, "I get to zap you for being anti-undead."

"And when was I anti-undead?"

"I heard what you said to that overly cheery skeleton," Aghoul went on. "Skeletons are a form of the undead, and undead are a form of monster. How am I to know you don't consider me VERMIN?"

"Rest quite assured, Mr. Aghoul," Snatcher told him, "while I was skeptical at first, you have proven yourself to have a wildfire's ambition and a devious mind that I have come to irrevocably respect, disregarding your status as slightly inhuman."

Aghoul gave him a playful clap on the shoulder; Snatcher flinched, expecting another zap. "Oh, you know I can't stay mad at someone as malicious and repulsive as you! Even if you are a mortal fleshbag."

"Thank…you?" Snatcher replied confusedly.

"IS NO ONE ELSE ENRAGED THAT WE LOST TO CHILDREN?" Mozenrath screamed.

"Eh." Wuya shrugged. "I'm used to it."

"Losing to children is kind of my life," Roman added.

"As is my eternal humiliation," Snatcher said.

"In my defense, Robin is an extremely gifted child," Ragdoll chimed in. "But I can't say I'm a stranger to the sentiment."

"No comment," the Huntsman grunted.

"Excuse me?" Yzma faced Mozenrath down. "You're, what, twenty-one?"

"I don't remember!" Mozenrath growled.

"You've had to get people to take you seriously for being that young," Yzma argued. "And you can't believe that somebody five years behind you happened to stumble into the same kind of power you did? Believe me, it's much better than trying to get people to take you seriously for being MY age."

"How old ARE you, anyway?" Mozenrath asked.

Yzma crossed to him in a couple quick strides, smacking him on the back of the head. "Didn't your parents ever tell you never to ask a woman her age?"  
"I DON'T REMEMBER!"

"Seventy-two," Yzma stated as she backed off. "Just so everyone will stop asking."

"You're…seventy-two," Mozenrath commented, a little stunned. "You're…quite agile for seventy-two."

Yzma stepped forward and smacked him again.

"WHAT. WAS. THAT. FOR?" Mozenrath growled.  
"…That wasn't an insult, was it?" Yzma realized. "I was expecting another insult. Apologies."

"I'm no stranger to the feeling," Snatcher added. "I haven't quite the years you have. Forty-seven, to be precise. Nearly half a century. People expect your mind to be going dull at that stage, not getting sharper."

"Wait, you're almost fifty?" Roman did a double take. "So…you're literally old enough to be my actual dad. Huh. Guess calling you 'Daddy' wasn't that far off." He and Snatcher traded smirks.

"Why were you calling him that?" Mozenrath asked in complete seriousness.

Yzma, Wuya, and the Huntsman exchanged glances.

"I'm not telling him," Wuya insisted. "YOU explain it to him."

"ME?" Yzma gestured to herself. "I'm not explaining this! Huntsman, this is your job!"

The Huntsman sighed in resignation. "Not here. Later."

"Anyway, if we're trying to have an age competition, you can all step down," Wuya brought up. "I believe I have fifteen hundred years on ALL of you."

"Only three hundred," Mim sighed. "Drat!"

"One thousand, give or take," Aghoul offered up.

"I don't suppose any of you are willing to offer up the secret of immortality," Rémington said casually.

"Well, I'm part goblin, Wuya was imprisoned in a magic box, and Ghoulie is dead," Mim mused. "But I'm sure there's magic out there that can give us all the immortality we want! We'll put it on the to-do list."

"You can't…" Mozenrath sighed. "You can't take all the immortality you want. You either have immortality or you don't. You can't have an AMOUNT of immortality." He took a deep breath, then exhaled it slowly. "So, back to my original point, we are constantly losing to enemies who are younger than us. I don't like that one bit, but apparently that's the hand we're dealt. Now that we know they can merge with each other by magic, at least we can prepare for that. From now on, only magic users take the kid with the key, and at least two at a time."

"A sound decision," the Huntsman agreed.

"Now," Mozenrath continued, "I believe Yzma is the one in charge of making our next move. So, Yzma, what'll it be?"

"I'm glad you asked!" Yzma replied. "We begin by finding exactly where Qilby, Tyrian, and Hades have taken our Eliacube. And we do so using a locator spell."

"Where are we going to get the ingredients for a locator spell in the middle of the ocean?" Mozenrath asked.

"Oh, I don't know…" Yzma whipped a small vial out of a pocket. "Maybe HERE!"

Mozenrath leaned forward to read the label: "Extract of tree frog."

"…Wrong vial." Yzma pocketed the potion, rummaging through her clothes for another one. "A-HA!" she crowed, thrusting forth another vial. "Maybe HERE!"

Mozenrath checked the label on this one: "You're good."

"All we need is something that belongs to one of our three targets," Yzma mused, "or did at some point. Anything will do. A scrap of clothing, or a dropped pocket watch – "

"You think any of us scraped up a POCKET WATCH during the attack on the Sadida?" Aghoul groaned.

"There must be something," Yzma muttered. "Something that even belonged to them shortly! We've had enough run-ins with Hades and his ilk; we have to have picked up SOMETHING!"

"You're saying 'we' like you were actually there when Mozenrath, Archie, and I were doing time in Tartarus," Roman grumbled.

Yzma's eyes widened. "Yes…you three DID belong to Hades for a time, didn't you?"

"Now, wait just a moment!" Snatcher argued. "I'd hardly call that 'belonging.' We still maintained our own free will!"

"Ah, ah!" Yzma wagged a finger. "The three of you were just souls with physical projections, and Hades is the Lord of the Dead! He OWNED the three of you, fair and square! And you're what we're going to use to track him!"

"Here's the problem with that," Wuya pointed out. "Say we do use the three of them to track Hades. A locator spell brings the object – or soul – that was owned directly to the owner. You're talking about having them crash directly into Hades. That's asking for him to throw them right back into the Underworld."

"Not if he doesn't know who crashed into him," Yzma said with a grin. "Mim, you do still have our disguises from the Sadida Kingdom in your purse, do you not?"

"Ready to go when you are!" Mim replied enthusiastically.

"We all crash into Hades – " Yzma attempted to continue.

Aghoul cut her off: "WE?"

"Well, we have to be able to follow Mozenrath, Roman, and Mr. Snatcher somehow," Yzma answered. "We'll all be holding hands."

"And you're suggesting the three of them will pull us along in a great chain, speeding over land and sea," the Huntsman reiterated.

"That is EXACTLY what I am suggesting," Yzma insisted. "Unless you have any better ideas."

"…I suppose I don't," the Huntsman admitted. "But something will have to keep us levitated to stop us from dragging in the water."

"I could provide the magic for that," Mozenrath threw in.

"Mim, fetch our clothes," Yzma ordered. "I have the rest of a plan to figure out! Now, we'll need to make provisions for if we meet up with them in a city versus meeting up with them in a clearing. If it's a city, the first thing we'll need to do is buy as much strawberry jelly as we can."

"And…why?" Roman wondered out loud.

"To attract the rats, of course," Yzma answered. "Once we've lured the rats into the shoe shop, we can then take advantage of the chaos to swap out the lefts and rights of each pair as well as taking one pair of sturdy boots each for ourselves. Half of us will then lead the rats to a candy shop while the other half seek out springs to attach to the boots. We won't attach them right away, of course. We need the boots in order to stomp the wooden planks in half that we'll need broken up. The rats will cause a flurry of people to rush away from the candy store, and – "

"Are you even listening to this?" Grany hissed to Rémington. "This is never going to work!"

"It sounds pretty sound to me so far," Rémington answered as he removed his cape in order to change back into the garb of Katana.

"HOW?" Grany was awestruck. "We don't even know how this ties into the Eliacube!"

"If nothing else," Ragdoll broke in, "it's amusing to listen to."

"Stop listening in!" Grany hissed at him.

Disguises were donned. Yzma paced back and forth, muttering to herself: "We'll put crossbow number one at a thirty degree angle – no, a forty-five degree angle from the target spot. The explosive fuse will have to be lit by the friction from the bolt leaving the – "

"Yzma?" Mozenrath interrupted, decked out as Brandisia Black. "You're the last one we're waiting on."

"Right." As everyone turned to hide their eyes, Yzma scrambled into her pink gown. "Of course, since Wuya and I will be most recognizable, we shall bring up the rear."

The group hustled to the front of the ship. Mozenrath insisted upon being the leader of the chain, his right hand free while his left hand reached back to clutch Snatcher's right. Snatcher, in turn, took Roman's right hand in his left, and Roman took hold of Peter's right hand. Peter's fingers intertwined with Rémington's; Rémington tucked Grany under that arm before reaching back to take Mim's hand. Mim's free hand grasped Aghoul's, Aghoul grabbed onto the Huntsman, the Huntsman seized Wuya's hand and Wuya clutched Yzma's hand in her own. "READY?" Yzma called up from the back of the line.

Mozenrath looked down at the vial in his gauntleted hand. "This had better work." He uncapped the vial, quickly downing one-third of the contents. He and Snatcher briefly broke physical contact in order for Snatcher to take and drink his third; Snatcher passed it to Roman, who finished the vial off. The three immediately linked hands again as the vial was tossed to the deck.

Mozenrath cast a blue aura over the entire chain, and they levitated a few inches off the deck of the ship. For a moment, all was still.

Mozenrath sighed. "I don't think this is going to wo – "  
He was immediately jerked forward, as were Snatcher and Roman, the three of them taking the entire chain along with them, speeding over the ocean and leaving the Incurable Blight to bob in the water until it washed up on some distant shore or capsized.

"NOW WE ARE MOVING!" Yzma crowed. "Now, to pick up where I left off. I have decided the tuba won't be necessary. Instead, we are going to scale to the rooftop of the highest building and use it to locate the second and third highest points. These are where we are going to station the glass lenses. When put at the exact correct angle, they should refract the light of the sun in order to burn through – did I mention the rope yet? Ah, yes. We will string a rope…"

"I have no faith in this plan," Mozenrath muttered to himself.

...

By day, Xerxes occupied a cage in the Mystery Shack, where Stan paraded groups of awestruck tourists past him. "Behold!" Stan said with a sweeping gesture toward Xerxes. "The repulsive, one-of-a-kind SKY EEL! Look at its asymmetrical eyes! Look at its sharp fangs! Look at the disgustingly cute tiny sweater it's wearing!"

"Raaaaar!" Xerxes exclaimed, loving to see the tourists flinch in fear. It was quite the opposite reaction from what he was used to.

"Is it dangerous?" one of the sightseers asked.

"Oh, yes, very," Stan said with an emphatic nod. "Completely carnivorous. It thirsts for human flesh. The plush replicas of it in the gift shop, however, are completely safe. Twenty dollars apiece. Move along, move along!"

Xerxes let out a mad cackle as he watched the group first gawk at him, then hustle away in fear. He had to admit that working for the Mystery Shack wasn't as bad as he'd thought. He got three good meals a day, the lime green sweater Mabel had knitted him was surprisingly cozy, and he got a kick out of scaring people.

All the same, he missed home. Maybe if he touched the star shard this time, it would bring him back. Stan may have been greedy and self-centered, but Xerxes could tell that deep down, he was a good person, and this aggravated Xerxes. The eel longed to be back among his beloved ne'er-do-wells and their rotten souls.

"All right," Stan announced, opening up the cage. "Closing time. You're free to go. Same time tomorrow morning, you hear?"

"Xerxes hear," Xerxes said with a nod. He then made a beeline for the uppermost level, eager to test out the star shard.

"Dipper?" Mabel asked her twin as she observed the boy looking over the star shard, which was perched in his lap as he sat on his bed, with a magnifying glass. The thick journal he turned to for reference on all things supernatural was spread open next to him. "Whaaaaaat are you doing?"  
"I'm trying to figure out what this crystal is," Dipper answered. "So far, it hasn't done anything or responded to any tests. This CAN'T just be an ordinary crystal. Why else would Xerxes act so protective around it?"

"Maybe because it's shiny," Mabel suggested. "I know I like shiny things."

"It's gotta be more than that," Dipper argued. "I just can't shake this feeling that Xerxes is more than he looks like."

"You don't trust him?" Mabel gasped. "But Dipper! The poor thing was almost eaten by a bird! He needed our help!"

"I'm not saying I don't TRUST him," Dipper replied. "I'm saying I want to know more about him. Where he came from, why he's here, why this crystal is so important, and why the Author doesn't mention anything about any of this ANYWHERE."

This was the sight Xerxes entered upon; he panicked upon seeing Dipper cradling the star shard. In his mind, he was already lucky the shard hadn't transported Dipper elsewhere, leaving Xerxes high and dry. "NO!" Xerxes cried, shooting forward. "NO TOUCH!" He clamped his jaws around the shard, hurtling toward the ceiling, where he threw on the brakes and hovered.

"HEY!" Dipper cried indignantly, sliding off the bed. "I just want to know what this thing is, okay? Since you wouldn't tell me!"

Xerxes shook his head. Had he not been fully employing his mouth in carrying the shard, he would have reminded Dipper that he had promised to leave the star shard alone. Having nothing he could say due to a full mouth, he turned and sped out of the room, angry.

"Way to go, Dipper," Mabel groaned. "You hurt his feelings. You broke his trust!"

"Well, I'm pretty sure he's been breaking mine," Dipper argued, folding his arms.

Xerxes had half a mind to simply fly out of the Mystery Shack then and there, but despite Diablo being absent for quite some time, he knew he couldn't feel safe from the raven's attacks. He would have to make peace with the twins sometime…and find somewhere to hide the shard so that it wouldn't get disturbed.

He recalled having watched Soos interact with a strange large device some time ago; Soos had entered a code in a keypad on the vending machine and it had rewarded him with food. Xerxes had somehow missed the part where a transaction of money was involved, thinking acquiring a snack was just as simple as pressing the right buttons. Feeling a peckish urge, he floated up to the vending machine's keypad, not knowing what code Soos had used but willing to try anything and everything. He slapped the keypad with his tail, trying every combination he could conceive.

After some time, he hit upon a combination that did something, but it wasn't the result he expected. No food was dispensed. Instead, the vending machine swung aside as though it were an overly thick door, revealing a dark stairway on the other side.

Intrigued, Xerxes floated in, making his way down. The stairs ended at a wall with another door set in it: one made up of two panels, with no handle. Figuring this door had to be opened somehow, Xerxes searched around, locating a metal box with another keypad inside. From there, it was just another bunch of guesses and random button presses until the right code was entered. This caused the doors to open up into a cramped room with no other exit.

Xerxes had seen a few elevators in the warship base and recognized this as one. He entered, letting the door close behind him, and pressed the buttons that took the elevator down to the lowest level. There, the door opened upon a corridor lined with technological hardware, multicolored lights blinking and illuminating the otherwise dark path. Xerxes was by now too curious to turn back, wondering why he'd never seen this part of the shack before.

The eerily lit corridor led him to a desk of sorts where a figure shrouded by shadow sat with their back to Xerxes, flipping switches and cross-referencing a diagram made up of three books placed adjacently. Above the desk, a spacious glass window showed the way into an immense arena beyond, where a great upside-down triangle was illuminated. As the figure fiddled with the switches, lights flickered on and off around the triangle.

"Come on," the figure muttered in a gruff voice. "Come on…"

Many people would have realized this was not something to be interrupted, and the best bet would be to leave the way one had come. Xerxes did not read the situation properly. Instead, he slithered up to the mysterious figure, trying to sound out the question "What doing?" around the shard in his mouth.

"GAAAAAAH!" The figure spun in his chair, tipping it over and hitting the ground. Xerxes could see by now that it was Stan. Xerxes was suddenly filled with hope; was Stan working on a doomsday device? This was obviously a secret plot; was it also evil? Was there a benefit to working with Stan beyond just comfort after all?

"You…" Stan panted, pulling himself up by the edge of the desk. "Sky eel. It's you. How'd you get down here?"  
Xerxes made a sound that indicated "I dunno."

"Doesn't matter," Stan huffed. "How much did you see? Oh, who am I kidding? You saw everything! Listen, sky eel. You can NOT tell the kids what you just saw down here. You also can't tell Soos and you can't tell Wendy. You can't tell ANYONE. This stays between you and me, got it?"

Xerxes had not, in fact, gotten it. He felt as though what he'd stumbled upon made perfect blackmail material, and he wasn't about to let Stan get away with it so easily. His chuckle tipped Stan off to this fact.

"Oh, boy," Stan grunted. "…Come with me, sky eel."

He reached up and wrapped a meaty fist around Xerxes' body, walking the struggling eel to the elevator.

"I know your type," Stan explained on the way up. "I figured it out from that laugh. That's the same laugh I do when I find a new way to get money quick. You're gonna hold this against me. Extort me with it. And whether or not I slip up, you're gonna rat me out anyway. Is that it?"

Xerxes was too proud of himself to lie. "Uh-huh!" he asserted, nodding fervently.

The elevator door opened at the bottom of the dark stairway. "Then you're gonna have to get lost," Stan declared.

What Stan was thinking of was putting a blindfold on Xerxes, throwing him in the trunk of his car, driving far out of town and making several loops so the eel couldn't tell which way they'd gone, then releasing him so far away from the Mystery Shack that he wouldn't be able to find his way back at least until Stan had completed his work with the portal.

What Xerxes interpreted was that Stan was going to kill him.

Xerxes put up a more frantic struggle than ever, and once he and Stan reached the top of the stairs, he slipped out of Stan's grip, taking off through an open window. Diablo seemed to be long gone; it was worth risking the danger to shake Stan off his trail.

"HEY!" Stan yelled, barging out the door, panic surging through him as he watched the creature that knew far too much and was able to give it all away to the wrong people flit into the distance. "GET BACK HERE!" He bolted after Xerxes, who was making a beeline for town.

The people of Gravity Falls were startled to see a flying eel speeding down the streets. However, they were perhaps even more frightened by the sight of a visibly angry Stan Pines chasing after said eel and screaming at the top of his lungs.

Lazy Susan poured a coffee each for Sheriff Blubs and Deputy Durland. A zooming Xerxes shot into the diner, circled Susan three times, knocked over the coffee cups so their contents spilled into the officers' laps and splashed upon the hapless waitress, and sped right back out. Stan barged in, bellowing, "WHICH WAY DID HE GO?"

The only response he got from Susan, Blubs, and Durland was "OUCH! OUCH! HOT! HOT! HOT!"

Bud Gleeful popped open the hood of one of the cars on his lot to let Tad Strange get a good look at the engine. "I can guarantee you that this is a bona fide 70 horsepower engine!" Bud bragged.

Before Tad Strange could comment, Xerxes buzzed through, causing Bud to let the hood drop. Stan leapt onto the hood, shaking his fist and screaming, "YOU'RE NOT GETTING AWAY WITH THIS, YOU FLYING LITTLE CREEP!" before leaping down and continuing the chase.

"Uh…'scuse me a moment." Bud retreated to behind the car, where he sat down on the ground before pulling a cell phone from his pocket. He speed-dialed a single key, lifting the phone to his ear. "Toby? This is Bud. We got a little situation – "

"I SEE IT!" Toby Determined cried as Xerxes and Stan chased round and round in circles around him, causing him to drop the painted cinder block he'd been using as his camera on his foot. "OWWWWW!"

"We're gonna have to do some damage control," Bud hissed.

"Damage control is right!" Toby agreed as Xerxes and Stan went barreling down the street.

As they passed Tyler Cutebiker, the aptly named cute biker turned with eyes wide to encourage, "Get 'im! GEEEET 'IM!"

Pacifica Northwest squared up to make a shot at the fifth hole on the mini-golf course. When Xerxes flew into her field of vision, she screeched, and instead of the ball, her club smacked right into his head, almost causing him to drop the star shard. He kept moving; Stan was the next to come into Pacifica's range. She beat him multiple times with the club, yelling, "GET OUT OF HERE, YOU UGLY FREAK OF NATURE!"

"I'M NOT THE EEL!" Stan insisted. "THE EEL ALREADY LEFT!"

"I KNOW!" Pacifica cried.

Xerxes' flight course took him right into a junkyard. He stole a glance over his shoulder to see whether or not he'd lost Stan. In that moment of diverted attention, he flew right into an open grill, and said grill's owner slammed the lid shut on him. Xerxes dropped the shard onto the already heating metal bars in panic.

"HOOOOO-EE!" Old Man McGucket cried. "Gonna grill me some seafood for dinner tonight!"

"NO EAT XERXES!" Xerxes cried in hysterics. "XERXES SMART! XERXES TALK!"

"A TALKIN' eel!" McGucket identified. "Sounds even tastier!"

"NO EAT!" Xerxes cried, ramming into the sides of the grill's lid and finding he was unable to budge it. "Help Xerxes, and…Xerxes do anything! Help with any evil plans!"

"Help me with my evil plans, ya say?" McGucket thought it over. "Weeeeelllllll…I am buildin' myself a new giant robot outta pure spite in the hopes of usin' it to rain destruction upon my enemies. I s'pose that counts as evil. You'd really help me?"

"YES!" Xerxes cried. "Xerxes help! Just no eat Xerxes! And no touch Xerxes' crystal! And no tell Stan where Xerxes is!"

As if summoned by the mention of his name, Stan burst into the junkyard, panting heavily. "WHERE IS HE?" he roared.

"He who?" McGucket responded.

"The flying eel!" Stan growled. "That's he who!"

"Hmmm, now I don't happen to know any he who flyin' eels," McGucket pondered. "If I'd'a seen who he, I woulda told you where he. But I don't know where he, so I ain't tellin' ya where he. All I know is he who gotta be somewhere, is somewhere and somehow who he be. What he be? A flyin' eel? Ain't never heard what! And if I dunno what, can't tell ya where who! Who? Where? What – "

"GAAAAAAAAAAAH! FORGET IT!" Stan took off at a sprint out of the junkyard.

"Too hot!" Xerxes cried. "TOO HOT!"

McGucket lifted the lid of the grill. "Did whatcha asked," he said with a grin. "Now you ain't gonna get no trouble from him! Come on 'round back and take a look at my latest project!"

Xerxes tried to scoop up the star shard, but it was still hot from its contact with the grill. He let it lay there to cool and followed McGucket deeper into the junkyard, where a large tarp lay over a lumpy shape.

McGucket whisked away the tarp, revealing an enormous robotic leg. "Ta-daaaaaaa!" he revealed. "It's just the beginnin' of my newest death robot! I'm hopin' to make this thing strong enough to fight demons if I hafta! But we're nowhere near done! Whaddaya say, partner?"

"Xerxes help!" Xerxes promised gladly. This looked like a much more promising venture than working for Stan. It was still a far cry from home, but at least it was sinister.

"You're gonna need a name," McGucket mulled over. "Hmmm."

"Have name," Xerxes insisted. "Name Xerxes. Told you already."

"Sorry, what was that?" McGucket replied. "Got this problem where I sometimes go temporarily deaf in my left ear."

"Name XERXES," Xerxes reiterated.

"Nope," McGucket said with a shake of the head. "Still plumb deaf in that ear. Hey, how's about I call ya 'Ford'? I always did like me the name Ford. Can't really thinka why. Prob'ly 'cause it's short for Fiddleford, which is my first name."

"No Ford," Xerxes growled. "Xerxes."

"Still can't hear ya!"

Xerxes sighed. "Fiiiiiine. Name Ford."

"Well, would ya look at that!" McGucket exclaimed. "I can hear again! It's a dadgum miracle! Anyway, let's get to work, Ford! Hand me that socket wrench!"

Xerxes gladly did so, watching McGucket go to work with socket wrench and blowtorch and trying not to think about how terribly he missed Mozenrath.

...

When Qilby detached the Eliacube from his person, taking on his pale skin tone and light brown hair, he went almost unrecognizable within the city of Bonta. Tyrian had an advantage, being fully unknown on that world; he kept his tail hidden just in case. As for Hades, no report of him coming from the Sadida Kingdom had contained a clear description, so no one tended to look at him and think he must have been one of the culprits responsible for the Eliacube threat.

"A question about those inhibitors," Tyrian posed, gesturing to the object in Qilby's single remaining hand: another sphere whose surface was covered in eyes that looked around fervidly. "Do they also repress Semblance, or just magic?"

"There has not been anything on this world that resembles Semblance as you know it," Qilby answered, "so nothing is certain. However, its reach goes a little beyond what you would call 'magic.' Is there a reason?"

"Just making sure Roman Torchwick can't use his little power against us," Tyrian stated.

"What's he got, anyway?" Hades asked.

"You know, I'm not certain," Tyrian admitted. "But my goddess seemed quite enthralled by his power. Enough that she overruled my MANY attempts to dispose of him in favor of a more cooperative recruit."

Just then, a rather large group of people crashed into Hades.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Hades backed up, swinging both hands in front of his person to signify the intruders should back up. "Personal space, babe!"

"Our apologies, Monsieur," a heavyset woman in pink said quickly.

"Won't happen again," a tall woman in white added.

"We're really just passing through," a raven-haired woman in blue chimed in.

At least, Hades believed all three to be women at the time.

The trio shuffled away, bringing their entourage with them. One of them called out "Toodles!"

"Sooooo that just happened," Hades groaned. "Oi. Mortals just do not get the concept of the personal bubble. Anyway, Qilby, you were on about where we were gonna hide the next doohickey."

Around the corner, the WHAM ARMY convened, speaking in hushed tones. "Okay, Mister Twister, I get the catchphrase is your thing and all," Roman hissed, "but one of these days, people are going to figure us out by it."

"Hasn't happened to me yet," Peter replied coyly.

"We are in a metropolis!" Yzma announced. "Good! We can enact plan A! We must work quickly, before they have a chance to leave!"

"All right," Mozenrath sighed, "let's do this."

...

The sun shone down at just the right angle through the glass lenses, burning the rope stretched along the main thoroughfare until it snapped, releasing the first plank in the set of dominoes and beginning the chain reaction.

The flash mob spun and leapt in time to the music, forcing Qilby to have to find a way around them as he cursed the circumstances that had caused himself, Tyrian, and Hades to become separated.

Among the flash mob were the owners of most of the shops in the square, leaving Roman, Rémington, and Ragdoll enough time to steal everything that wasn't nailed down in their absence and pile it into Mim's purse. Of course, remembering the plan, they made sure to locate and acquire a bowling ball.

Snatcher and the Huntsman, disguised as workmen, carried a pallet of lumber across the thin street Qilby was making his way down, forcing him to take a turn. They immediately changed course in order to cut him off at the right time at the next designated location.

Roman launched the bowling ball down a side street, where it hit a spring-loaded plank and was flung into the air.

Tyrian barged out of the toy store with teeth clenched in rage, pounding one fist against the flat of the opposite wrist-blade to see if he could un-jam the gum from the gun barrel. Wuya flitted out the back door, popping a gum bubble playfully in her mouth as she did so.

The dominoes finished falling, triggering the lever that set the small motor car running.

The bowling ball bounced off three different gables at wildly different angles.

Tyrian was beginning to suspect something was wrong. When the smell of fresh-baked pie didn't divert him from his course, the backup element certainly did. Tyrian knew enough that when you heard a loud buzzing sound accompanied by several perfect strangers running at you full steam and screaming "BEES! BEEEEEES!", you had better start running as well. After all, the WHAM ARMY had made sure there would be actual bees.

The choreography of the flash mob caused the woman in the rightmost corner to step on the mechanism that started feeding the second rope through the pulley.

Hades flamed his way out of a hotel lobby in anger. "There is NO SUCH HOLIDAY AS HADESMAS, IS THERE?" he roared. "Okay, that's it. That is IT. I have a SPECIAL corner of Tartarus reserved for WHOEVER'S BRIGHT IDEA IT WAS TO MAKE ME WASTE THAT MUCH TIME!"

Aghoul teleported out of the hotel before Hades could find out that he was the one who had informed the staff that they had better call the Lord of the Dead to all the proper rituals, including putting up the myriad of decorations meant to celebrate him.

Down in the sewers, Mozenrath unleashed a wave of magic that pushed forth a barrage of water, causing it to explode through several sewer grates above. The flash mob disbanded, not wanting to get rained on by the contents of toilets. An exploding grate also caused Qilby to change course, now going deep into a network of alleys.

With the square empty, Rémington positioned himself at its center to aim a pistol at the second rope; as soon as it finished heaving up the weight, Rémington shot, detaching the weight and making it fall on the seesaw that made the rubber band ball go flying; it crossed paths with the bowling ball in midair.

Rémington then fired three quick shots into the air, followed by a pause, followed by three more: the signal for the WHAM ARMY to gather, because the endgame was approaching. As he scuttled off down a side street, Hades and Tyrian ran into each other.

"Someone's trying to screw us up," Hades growled through clenched teeth.

"When did you notice?" Tyrian replied sarcastically.

"Maybe around the time we were on our third burnt offering and nobody knew Cerberus' name." Hades recognized the sarcasm; he was still on an anger rush, however, and needed to purge it from his system.

"For me, it was around the time of the hail of foam darts," Tyrian snapped. "Where is – "

"He's not with YOU?"

The pair turned to dash into the alleys, seeking out Qilby.

Ten large barrels and one conspicuously smaller barrel surrounded the spot where the finale was to take place.

The bowling ball landed in a gutter, rolling along until it triggered crossbow number one.

The rubber band ball ping-ponged between two walls until it hit crossbow number two.

The motorcar ran over the mechanism that pulled the string causing the scissors to snap, dropping an anvil onto the trigger of crossbow number three.

As the three bolts left their weapons, the fuses were ignited by friction, exactly as Yzma had planned – though, of course, everything else had also gone exactly as Yzma had planned.

Qilby wandered into the back alley just as all three weapons discharged. And as the explosives hurtled toward him –

He was suddenly powered by the Eliacube once more, the cube serving as his missing arm. He leapt into the air with a graceful backflip, letting all three bolts collide and explode. He landed some distance away from the target spot, completely unscathed by even the aftershock of the explosion.

He took a few moments to let it sink in to any observers that he had not, in fact, been obliterated by the heavy weaponry. A quick glance around showed him where the observers were most likely to be hiding; he strode toward the nearest barrel and kicked it hard. "Come out," he demanded.

And Yzma did come out of the barrel, popping up like a jack-in-the-box. "HOW DID THAT NOT WORK?" she screamed in Qilby's face. "Everything was planned to perfection! The timing was perfect! The trajectories were perfect! Nothing was out of place! HOW DID YOU KNOW?"

"Simple." Qilby walked back to where he was supposed to have blown to bits, where there were now large pockmarks in the walls from the blast. "X marks the spot." He grinned as he pointed down to the giant red X that had been painted where he was to have met his doom.

Mozenrath popped out of another barrel, yelling, "I TOLD YOU NOT TO PAINT THAT THERE!"

"Where are the rest of your friends?" Qilby asked. "The other barrels? Come out, come out, wherever you are, before I have to start demolishing barrels one by one."

At once, Roman, the Huntsman, Snatcher, Wuya, Ragdoll, Rémington, Mim, and Aghoul showed their faces from within the larger barrels; Grany poked his head out of the tiny barrel. "Nine to one, Rabbit Ears," Roman announced. "Not good odds for you."

"You think that's what's under my hood?" Qilby allowed himself a chuckle. "It seems you have me surrounded. No, wait…look again."

In a brilliant flash, portals of bright sea green appeared in the air around the WHAM ARMY from every angle. Qilby disappeared through one himself to get on the outside of the circle of opponents.

"Oh, yeah?" Mozenrath scoffed. "What do you intend to do with those?"

The portals paired up, each connecting with a buddy, and every time a set was made, a thick beam of energy emitted from it, causing a criss-cross of blazing hot beams. Everyone in the WHAM ARMY was forced to leap or bend into an awkward position in order to avoid becoming fried.

As the beams subsided, Hades and Tyrian barged into the alley. "Y'know, I should be surprised, but lookin' at this, I'm not really surprised," Hades commented.

Tyrian ran his tongue along the flat edge of one of his blades before saying, "These still work as blades, you know."

The network of green portals shimmered, ready for another round.

"RETREEEEEEAAAAAAAT!" Yzma screeched.

A Corridor opened beneath them, sucking the eleven down into it just before an even tighter-knit network of beams was unleashed.

...

Yzma, Wuya, Aghoul, Mim, Rémington, Grany, Ragdoll, the Huntsman, Snatcher, Roman, and Mozenrath found themselves in the midst of a busy street in Brakmar, needing a moment to process their surroundings and catch their breath.

"You know, we might have been able to take them," Mozenrath pointed out.

"I would have at least tried," Wuya added.

"I panicked," Yzma admitted.

"You weren't the one who made the Corridor," Mozenrath reminded her.

"Well, then, I panicked too," Aghoul confessed.

"…Why?" Mozenrath was perplexed. "There's nothing they could even DO to you. YOU'RE DEAD."

"Exactly," Aghoul stated, "meaning Hades already has a flag planted right in the middle of my soul. We're not taking them on again until we have better magic. OLDER magic. Now, since I WAS the one who made the retreat possible – "

"You put us literally right back where we started," Yzma droned.

"And I know where it is we should go next," Aghoul went on, "I believe a certain compass now belongs to me." He extended his hand, palm upward.

Yzma begrudgingly held out the compass. When Aghoul reached to take it, however, she swiped it away with a "HA!" Then: "Oh, all right, here. Take it." She offered it again, but when Aghoul grasped for it, she pulled it away again: "HAHA!"

"Oh, VERY mature!" Aghoul rolled his eyes before diving at Yzma to rip the compass out of her hands; she spun in place to keep it away from him. At last, Aghoul took advantage of a misstep and emerged victorious, compass in hand.

"To your credit, Yzma," Mozenrath said, slightly stunned from the revelation, "your plan…actually almost worked. It was perhaps the most ridiculous plan I've ever heard in my life, and I'm willing to put several denarii on that including plans I don't remember hearing, but we almost had them."

The others all made sounds of agreement.

"Thank you," Yzma said dryly. "Now, perhaps, we can stop referring to bad plans as 'Yzma plans.'"

"MOST of your plans are still batshit," Roman commented.

"Well, Ghoulie?" Mim asked. "Where are we going next?"  
"Well, as I said, we're going to need old magic to defeat our foes," Aghoul theorized. "Whenever I wanted revenge or conquest back in Agrabah, old magic never failed me. The Black Viper, the spells of wizard Khufu, et cetera, et cetera. So, tell me, Rémy. Where is the most ancient place of power on this world?"

"I don't know exactly what you expect to find there," Rémington answered, "but there is one very definite place you can trace back to the beginning of just about everything of note that happened on this world."

...

The Spitfires had made quite some headway through the tunnels of the Balmera, having passed crystal after crystal that just came up shy of the size needed.

The Spitfires, to be clear, were Irmaplotz, Snipe, and Garfield, the latter of whom had come up with the team name. Neither Irmaplotz nor Snipe had protested; in fact, they thought it sounded like a name that was both fun and intimidating.

"And I say as the icing on the cake," Garfield suggested, "we make a banner with an insignia for each of us surrounded by fire. I'm thinkin' a mace for Snipe, a book for Irma, and a literal firefly for me."

"That'd be rad!" Snipe said with a nod.

"My love for you is like a fire," Irmaplotz recited. "Trust me, I am not a liar. I have passion like a flame. Please tell me you feel the same. When I see you, I get heartburn. You're as pretty as a beech fern."

"That was terrible," Garfield commented.

"It's one of my favorites, actually," Irmaplotz stated. "It's from Ped Xing's short-lived romantic period. Fire always reminds me of it."

"Uggghhh, I hate mushy stuff!" Snipe complained. "Didn't this guy ever have a war period or anything?"

"Actually, yes," Irmaplotz answered. She cleared her throat: "War is like a raging fire. People die and times are dire. Weapons of war are like a flame. Soldiers play it like a game. When I see war, it gives me heartburn. Soldiers trampled all the beech ferns."

"Okay, now you're making that up," Garfield accused.

"Nope." Irmaplotz shook her head. "It's real."

"Well, I liked it a lot better than that other one," Snipe emphasized.

Rounding a corner took them to a site where an immense crystal lay half buried. "Think that thing's as big as it looks?" Garfield asked.

"Only one way to find out," Irmaplotz told him.

"Pay dirt," Garfield remarked.

"It looks more like a crystal to me," Snipe stated.

"Let's just figure out how to get this thing out of here." Irmaplotz knelt by the crystal. "Hmmm."

"Can't we just dig it out?" Snipe asked.

"This isn't a planet with actual dirt, remember?" she recalled. "We're inside a living creature."

"Right," Snipe realized. "We're inside its guts. Ewwww. …Pretty awesome, actually."

"What difference does it make?" Garfield asked. "Or are you some kind of animal rights activist? Newsflash: no one else here cares if the thing gets hurt."

"You'll care if the Balmera suffering pain triggers an earthquake," Irmaplotz pointed out.

"Okay, that's fair," Garfield admitted. "So what do we do?"

"See if it responds to magic," Irmaplotz suggested, placing her hands on the ground. A green glow surrounded her fingers, spreading toward the crystal. The crystal budged slightly upward.

"That did something!" Snipe observed.

"It took a little out of me," Irmaplotz commented.

"Like a Mozenrath's gauntlet kind of thing?" Garfield asked.

"Not quite," Irmaplotz responded. "It's a way smaller scale. Getting it out won't kill me. It'll just make me really tired."

"Then let's get this operation under way," Garfield demanded. "You can get your beauty sleep later, after we show Iceman how bad we beat him to the punch."

"He thinks we're such screw-ups!" Snipe added. "I can't wait to see the look on his face when he sees that we found the crystal first!"

"Assuming we actually found it first," Irmaplotz pointed out.

A low chuckle reverberated throughout the tunnel. "What you found doesn't matter," a raspy female voice stated. "Because I just found you."

The air shimmered between Irmaplotz and the crystal; Irmaplotz stumbled over backward. Snipe and Garfield immediately stepped up next to her, ready to defend, as she put up her hands, glowing green with malicious energy. From the feet upward, Mirage materialized before the Spitfires, laughing as she looked them over. "This is what passes for an alliance nowadays?" she mocked. "A hopeless teenage romantic who can't control her emotions. An unstable mortal who has no strengths to speak of outside of his armor. And a warrior whose head might as well be filled with rocks."

Irmaplotz had by that time gotten to her feet. "At least it beats being a housecat with delusions of grandeur."

"As an expert on burns," Garfield contributed, "that was a sick one."

"Ha!" Mirage spat. "I don't concern myself with the opinions of children who want to play villain."

"What do you want?" Snipe barked.

"You work for Mozenrath, do you not?" Mirage asked. "I see he's been trying to grow bigger than the pond he stews in. Not that I actually expect him to get anywhere, but this should make for some good fun. I want to strike fear into his heart, and I want to do it slowly. I'll start by picking off his three most useless associates and leaving him to wonder when I'll start moving up the chain. And I WILL move up the chain."

"So it's a fight you want!" Snipe removed his mace from where it had been strapped to his back, smacking it against his free palm. "Well, guess what? You got it wrong! We're not the most useless! We're the most…useable!"

"Well, I won't argue," Mirage chuckled.

"Listen, lady!" Snipe went on. "You're messing with the wrong crew!"

Irmaplotz took Garfield's shoulder, guiding him three paces behind Snipe. "I'm going to make a Corridor between here and the reading room," she whispered. "You get to your room and armor up. Then come back to the reading room and call my scroll. When I hear it ring, I'll open the Corridor back up for you to come back through. Got it?"

"Why can't you just send me to my room and back?" Garfield whispered in return.

"Because I don't know where your room is," Irmaplotz admitted. "Seriously, no more time. GO."

"Messing with the wrong crew?" Mirage repeated. "All right. I'll buy it when you can prove it." She extended her arms to either side. At her beckoning, a host of fire-backed cats erupted into existence in a ring around the Spitfires.

Irmaplotz cast a Corridor, shoving Garfield into it with a "GO!" As soon as he was through, she shut the entrance connected to the Balmera; the other end would fizzle out as soon as he passed through in the warship.

"Haven't you heard there's strength in numbers?" Mirage taunted. "As wise as you think it was to dispose of your weakest link, thinning your numbers really wasn't the best idea."

Irmaplotz squared up behind Snipe, her back to his, glaring outward at the cats, who were pawing the ground, getting ready to charge. "You ready?" she asked.

"Born ready!" Snipe confirmed.

As the cats lunged, Snipe bellowed "SPITFIIIIIIIIIRES!" They piled upon him; he batted them away one by one. Irmaplotz didn't even let any get close to her; she knocked them back with bursts of green every time.

Neither of them felt even a scrap of fear when faced down with the cats. Snipe had difficulty believing that he wasn't stronger by a factor of ten than these feline foes, and Irmaplotz simply hadn't yet been given a reason to be afraid, so she didn't speculate one. Both felt completely confident in their ability to knock back the cats as quickly as they came, and when the cats began to shrink before their very eyes, their flames dousing, that confidence only grew.

"WHAT?" Mirage yowled. "I should have known! You're too STUPID to be afraid of me!"

"So that's your game," Irmaplotz realized. "You just want us to be afraid." She tossed aside another now-cool cat, the size of a house pet. "Guess what we're not going to do now?"

"That's what happens when you mess with the SPITFIRES!" Snipe roared, his mace slamming down hard on one of the cats with a crunch.

In the meantime, Garfield stumbled into the wrecked reading room back on the warship base, only needing a moment to get his bearings before taking off for his room. As he turned down the hallway, he was aware of a very slight mechanical sound. "What the – "

He turned to see a retractable cannon protrude its way out of the wall and aim itself at him.

Garfield made a dive, avoiding the red-hot blast at the last second. He landed on his stomach, rolling over onto his back to see nine more cannons gearing up to fire upon him from different points in the wall.

"Great," he muttered.

He rolled, struggled to his feet, and zigzagged around the cannon fire as it pelted down onto the floor. He couldn't make sense of it. Why were the ship's interior defenses going nuts? Had Vexen set them on some kind of intruder deterrent program before leaving? If so, hadn't he expected that one of them might head back to the ship ahead of schedule? No, he realized, Vexen wouldn't have accounted for that, and might have written off the accidental shooting of a teammate as "good riddance" depending on the teammate.

A high-pitched metallic squeal alerted Garfield to the saw blade that jutted out from the wall, speeding toward him at ankle level. He leapt, fumbling the landing and falling to his knees before tucking into a somersault to dodge the next cannon blast. "If I get out of this alive," he grunted, now back on his feet, "Iceman is dead."

The next hallway's wall panels opened up to reveal dart shooters, and as soon as Garfield came within detectable range, they began to launch darts as quickly as possible, creating an impassable wall. This wall did, however, leave an empty spot: the lower segment of the hallway, only just high enough for someone to crawl through. Garfield dropped to a completely flat position, pulling himself forward with his folded arms as he felt the darts whistle over his back. He was most of the way down the hall when the metallic whine returned and he realized why this part of the hall was clear of darts: so they didn't interfere with the saw blade.

He quickened the speed of his crawl, coming out of the rain of darts and standing just in time for the saw blade to catch up behind him; he leapt again, letting it pass through and continue on its merry way.

After overcoming defense after defense, Garfield scurried into his and Peter's quarters and slammed the door behind him, leaning against the back of it for a moment to catch his breath and praying there were no further hostilities in the apartment. The residential quarters seemed to be free of defenses. As soon as he'd made sure of this, Garfield made a direct course for where his battle suit was stored.

Armored up, Firefly zoomed back down the hallways through which he'd come, blasting the wall-mounted shooters so that they emitted no more darts and speeding through the cannons so quickly, they had no time to lock onto his heat signature. Scroll in hand, he landed in the reading room, punching I-R-M-A into the contacts list.

Back on the Balmera, Irmaplotz heard her scroll's ringtone, the noise of a strumming lute, sound off from within her pocket. She put up a deflection shield dome around herself long enough to open a Corridor of Darkness from the reading room to the tunnel; Firefly came jetting right through.

The cats, by that point, were already weakened from confidence, having no fear to feed upon. They were brittle, fragile. All they needed was a coup de grace to bring them down, and Firefly delivered this in spades from an aerial position, shooting the now kitten-sized monstrosities into oblivion. As the blasts connected, they went up in short bursts of flame before disappearing entirely.

Once the area was clear, Firefly planted both feet on the ground, with Irmaplotz and Snipe flanking him. "Go ahead," he dared. "Try us."

"You haven't seen the least of what I can do," Mirage growled. She swiped through the air with a hand, radiating sickly green energy in the form of a claw mark that arced through the air. It struck the Spitfire trio, bowling them over. While Firefly's suit protected him from the worst of it, Snipe and Irmaplotz's clothing was torn at the stomach, and blood trickled out of newly etched cuts on their skin. Still, all three picked themselves right back up, striking a battle pose as they glared at Mirage.

"All in?" Firefly asked.

"All in," Irmaplotz and Snipe agreed.

The trio charged at Mirage full tilt.

Mirage threw back her head and laughed, readying her worst and most painful magic –

And then Sendak called her name.

She vanished entirely, causing the Spitfires to crash smack into the crystal they'd been trying to excavate.

"Okay, what just happened?" Irmaplotz wondered out loud.

"I think we won," Firefly guessed.

After a moment of silence in which it was apparent that Mirage was not coming back, Irmaplotz summoned a healing potion into her hand. "Here," she said, thrusting it at Snipe. "You're bleeding. Drink."

"You got another one of those?" Firefly asked.

"You look fine to me," Irmaplotz told him.

"I am fine," Firefly told her. "You're the one who's bleeding."

Irmaplotz seemed surprised to hear this, having to glance down at where she'd been impacted in order to confirm it. She then called another potion to hand, downing it.

"So home base actually tried to kill me when I went back," Firefly brought up.

"I'm sorry, what?" Irmaplotz stared at him in confusion.

"Like twenty death traps went off and tried to off me," Firefly clarified. "If this is Iceman's form of a security system, he's going to pay for it later."

"He would have warned us," Irmaplotz countered.

"Would he?" Firefly posed.

Irmaplotz nor Snipe could argue with the implication. "Let's just dig up that crystal already!" Snipe urged.

"All right, all right," Irmaplotz grunted, kneeling down on the ground and settling her hands in place. Green energy radiated throughout below; the crystal shuddered, then shifted up, out of where it was buried until it lay aboveground within the tunnel.

Irmaplotz stood, wiping sweat from her brow. "Yeah, I could use a nap," she remarked. "Snipe, you're carrying the thing, right?"

Snipe hoisted the crystal up over his shoulder. "Let's go wipe that stupid look off Vexen's face!"

"You mean his perma-frown?" Firefly retorted. "I don't think there's any getting rid of that."

"I'll figure out where he is." Irmaplotz withdrew her scroll, tapping the screen to get to Vexen in her contacts. She dialed; it rang and rang. "Huh. Weird." She shrugged. "I'll try him again. Let's just start walking."

As the Spitfires began to make their way back down the tunnels, retracing their steps as best they could – which wasn't well at all – they never thought that perhaps Vexen was unreachable because he was in the middle of something grueling.

...

Encre Noir and Elaine dropped Sora, Jasmine, Papyrus, Stork, Ruby, Amalia, and Yugo off at the nearest port on the mainland, reminding them of who to come to if they ever needed another ride across the sea. From there, the search began for a clue to where Mozenrath had headed, or what to do about the Qilby situation.

The journey took them through village after village. Amalia had warned the group that Yugo was hardly able to resist helping anyone who approached him, and it was true. Along the way, the group ended up defending two villages from invading bandits, finding a lost Bow Wow, doing some light fundraising to build a school and then helping lay foundation for construction of that school, reuniting two long-separated lovers, and getting a Bow Meow out of a tree.

Relaxing in a shady apple tree grove for a spell on their journey, the motley heroes nibbled upon the wild fruit and discussed recent events.

"We should probably practice that Drive thing more," Ruby suggested. "We need to get good at it."

"NONSENSE!" Papyrus scoffed. "WE ARE ALREADY GOOD AT IT! IF ANYTHING, WE SHOULD PRACTICE TO STAY IN SHAPE! ALTHOUGH…" He trailed off cryptically.

"Although what?" Jasmine asked.

"SORA, RUBY, AND I HAVE ALREADY DONE THIS 'DRIVE' TOGETHER," Papyrus pointed out. "JASMINE, YOU AND STORK HAVE NOT TRIED IT YET."

"That's right!" Sora realized. "I bet the three of us could pull off some powerful stuff!"

"I'm willing to give it a try," Jasmine confirmed.

"There's…never been any recorded incident of people not being able to get their own bodies back after a Drive, has there?" Stork asked.

"Not that I know about," Sora answered earnestly.

Stork mulled it over. "Probably worth it."

"Okay!" Sora stood in an open area of the grove. "Let's give it a shot!" He put his arms out to either side.

Jasmine took ahold of his left hand; Stork grasped onto his right. Shimmering golden light surrounded all three before they merged. In a burst of sparks, Sora received his new clothing: green of various shades, from sea to lime to forest. His pant legs were loose and his top tight. He now held his standard Keyblade; a blade with a sweeping blue handle, a swordlike shaft edged in red, and teeth that resembled a golden half-heart – this was Divewing – and a fluted golden Keyblade with blue accents: Three Wishes.

"This is weird," Stork babbled from inside Sora's mind. "This is weird, weird, weird, WEIRD."

"Need to leave?" Sora asked.

"I came this far," Stork told him. "There's no going back for me now."

Sora took that as the acceptance it was. "So what do you wanna try?" he asked.

"I have an idea!" Ruby sprang in front of Sora. "I'll fight you. Not for real; just for practice. You can try out all the stuff you wanna."

Papyrus turned to Amalia and Yugo. "DO YOU TWO WANT TO BE NEXT?" he asked as Sora and Ruby began to clash blades.

"I don't know if we're close enough to Sora to make it work," Amalia admitted. "I'll just stick to my plants, thank you."

Yugo nodded. "I agree with Amalia. It's nothing against Sora. But the five of you came here together, and the two of us are new to you. It's better if this stays between the five of you for now. Besides, I already have all I need."

"SUIT YOURSELF," Papyrus said before getting up to flank Ruby. "I WILL FIGHT TOO! DO YOUR WORST!"

As Amalia flopped down to sit at the base of a tree, Yugo decided, "I think I'll go for a walk," and set out to stretch his legs while the others dueled, Sora figuring out the increased capacity for magic that Jasmine and Stork gave him. Leaving the noise of clashing blades and bones in the distance, Yugo entered a realm of far less noise: his own feet crunching against the twigs on the ground, birds squawking in the air. It was nice, he thought, to simply drink in the quiet in between moments of excitement. That just made it all the more fun to get back into the thick of the action.

But he wasn't alone; he heard the noise of a larger person stumbling through the grove. From around a tree, there appeared a lanky man with long, rumpled brunette hair, limping into view, going down on one knee and panting.

"Are you okay?" Yugo asked worriedly.

"I'm…the only one…the only one who escaped…" The man's voice trembled.

"Escaped what?" Yugo asked.

"My…friends…Oma Island…" the man whimpered. "We were just explorers, looking for the old site of the home of Grougaloragran. Then he…HE CAME…I'd only ever heard about him in stories. Qilby…"

"Qilby!" Yugo repeated. "What happened?"  
"I don't know whether my friends still live or to fear the worst," the man moaned. "I had to get away…I've been looking for someone…anyone…"

"Don't worry!" Yugo promised. "My friends and I can save your friends!"

"No…don't…please, don't…it's too dangerous…"

"Don't you know who I am?" Yugo asked him. "I'm Yugo the Eliatrope! And between me and my friends, there's nothing we can't handle!"

"Yugo?" the man said softly. "From…the stories? Yugo? It's…it's really you, isn't it? But…no. You still shouldn't go. He'll kill you!"

"I'd like to see him try," Yugo insisted. "Stay here. We'll get you medical help."

"No," the man insisted, shaking his head. "I can't stay. I won't. I have to keep moving. He might still be out to get me – "

"It will be all right!" Yugo called back, taking off at a run toward where he'd left his friends. "Just for a few minutes!"

But there wouldn't be anyone there when he returned. The man stood to full height, smoothing his hair back with both hands, pulling it into a ponytail that would do until he could fix it back into its proper braid. Tyrian smirked; he was lucky to have caught Yugo alone. He wasn't sure who all was traveling with him; hearsay had given strange descriptions of various people. But he did know Amalia was along for the ride, and Amalia would have recognized him immediately. It was Yugo he had truly wanted, anyhow. The boy's need to rescue all in danger would lead him right where Tyrian, Qilby, and Hades wanted him.

The WHAM ARMY wasn't the only one who could put together complex plans, Tyrian thought as he sprinted away from the grove. Unlike them, however, Tyrian wasn't about to fumble the last move.


	42. The Trap Is Set

42\. The Trap Is Set

Night blanketed Gravity Falls. As its various quirky inhabitants shuffled off to bed, other phenomena awakened to come out to play without the scrutiny of mortal eyes upon them. Within the junkyard in particular, Fiddleford McGucket curled up in the back seat of a broken-down car, snoring loudly and every now and then muttering something in his sleep about how "I can't find my left broccoli" or "the tuna fish are winning the game" or "the one-eyed demon will rain fire upon the world and leave nothing but cinders." Xerxes had made his bed in the front seat, wrapped around the star shard and snoring just as loudly as his new friend as he dreamed of the Cyclonian warship and Mozenrath.

Three hooded figures crept silently into the junkyard, eyes fixed upon the car. "He's inside there," one of them said.

"Him again?" another sighed. "It's always him. How many times have we had to erase his memory now?"

"This is the first I remember," the third stated. "I guess I've just erased my memories of the other times we erased his."

"You ever think we might be overusing that gun on ourselves?" the second wondered out loud.

"No," the third said. "Not until you brought it up. Unless I thought of it before and erased thinking it."

"We can discuss this later," the first stated. "For now, we must focus on the mission at hand. Fiddleford McGucket – "

"Is THAT his name?" the third asked.

"…Must unsee what he has seen," the first continued. "As must all of the other citizens of this town who witnessed the anomaly. We have much work to do tonight, my brothers."

"Then let's not waste time gabbin'," the second suggested.

They pried open the rear car door, seizing McGucket. By the time McGucket had awoken to realize he was being taken captive, they had already covered his mouth, dragging him along as he squirmed, whimpered, and tried to break free. None of the abductors noticed Xerxes in the front of the car; likewise, Xerxes' dreams were only slightly disturbed by the sound of the scuffle. Only after McGucket had been dragged away to the hidden sanctuary of the Society of the Blind Eye did Xerxes stir.

He floated gently up toward the roof of the car, looking into the back seat. "Fiddleford?" he asked the empty space. He hoped his companion had simply gotten up to relieve himself or work more on the project. However, the thought that something worse had occurred nagged at his mind.

Xerxes swooped down to scoop up the star shard in his jaws before leaving the car to try and find McGucket. He circled the perimeter of the junkyard in order to determine that McGucket was nowhere within its boundaries. Once he had ascertained that information, he left the junkyard, over the back fence and into the woods.

He looked this way and that, but did not find the person he sought. He would have called McGucket's name if not for the shard filling his mouth. A rustle from the left caught his attention, and he swerved in between the trees to discover the source.

When he was able to visually identify the noisemaker, however, his spirits dropped considerably. Diablo, as a raven, had limited functions of speech. Among the right crowd, however, he could be quite persuasive, even without being able to speak anything but the language of birds. And he had amassed the right crowd for his purposes.

The raven fluttered at the head of a horde of creatures Xerxes identified as minotaurs. (They were actually Manotaurs, an all-male society of minotaurs who valued machismo above all else, but Xerxes had no way of knowing that.) Diablo, upon sighting Xerxes, gave a commanding caw.

"THERE IT IS!" the leader of the Manotaurs bellowed, extending a beefy arm to point at Xerxes. "THE DEMON CREATURE! KILL IT NOW AND PROVE YOU ARE MEN!"

Xerxes immediately turned tail, speeding into the forest. He could hear the galloping hooves of the Manotaurs closing in behind him; they were quicker than he would have liked. And no matter how many twists and turns he threw into his path, the rumbling of the stampede always seemed to be behind him.

After a bout of making his path particularly confusing, he managed to slip into the shadows, watching as the Manotaurs barged right past his hiding spot. "IT'S AROUND HERE SOMEWHERE!" the leader of the pack growled.

Xerxes shivered. He floated backward until he bumped into something large, solid, and strangely soft, owing to being covered in fur. Panicking, Xerxes spun to see what he'd collided with, and a scream eked its way around the star shard once he realized what he was looking at.

At first, he thought he'd come across a pack of bears, and that would have been bad enough. But upon closer inspection, it was only one bear; it just had enough heads to go around a pack. They covered its body, springing from its chest, its shoulders, between its four legs and around its four arms.

"Shhhhhh," the Multi-Bear cautioned. "Don't let them hear you."

Xerxes quivered from the sight of the creature, though he found its voice oddly comforting.

"The Manotaurs are after you," the Multi-Bear stated. "They're after me too. Come quickly. I know a way we can lose them. Make just enough noise, but not too much."

Xerxes just stared in shock as the Multi-Bear, deciding to take pity on a complete stranger, turned and stepped on crackly twigs, breaking tree branches to draw the attention of the Manotaurs.

"IT WENT THAT WAY!" one of them yelled, and Diablo urged the horde on with frantic cawing.

"Now!" the Multi-Bear whispered. "Come!"

Xerxes, realizing he was better off trying the Multi-Bear's plan than being left in his wake and becoming discovered by the Manotaurs, followed the creature through the forest, the thundering of hooves never too far behind.

The trees gave way to a clearing; a massive crystal jutted up from the ground. Xerxes' mind was drawn back to Dagger Rock in the Land of the Black Sands: a place that seemed an eternity away. The moon shone down through the crystal, casting light upon the ground.

"Stay out of the light," the Multi-Bear cautioned. "They will not be as careful as we will." The bear gracefully scurried across the clearing, making sure to avoid the touch of the crystal-bent light. Xerxes followed, careful to duplicate the path.

On the other side, the Multi-Bear paused. "Now we wait and see if we have been successful," he informed Xerxes.

Xerxes was, by this point, thoroughly confused. However, he did just as the Multi-Bear instructed, hiding in the shadow cast by a tall tree.

The Manotaurs galloped into the clearing en masse. As each passed the glimmering crystal, barging through the beam of light it threw to the ground, he was suddenly shrunken, a doll-sized creature. Diablo halted his course as soon as he realized what had happened, staying clear of the light, but the Manotaurs did not halt their charge until the entire troop had become as large as a set of toy soldiers.

"LOOK WHAT HAS BECOME OF US!" one of them yelled.

"The demon wouldn't know this trickery!" another barked. "Only one enemy of ours would have known how to make us look so foolish and unmanly!"

"MULTI-BEEEAAAAAR!" several miniature Manotaurs chorused.

"Quickly," the Multi-Bear urged Xerxes. "Before they come looking. There is not much they can do to us in this state, but it will still be better to hide."

Xerxes, no longer afraid of the Multi-Bear's many visages, followed him deeper into the forest. "The Manotaurs are ruthless creatures," the Multi-Bear explained. "You are lucky to have found me when you did."

Xerxes looked quizzically up at the Multi-Bear. The Multi-Bear could read the question in the eel's eyes. "No, I am not about to devour you," the Multi-Bear explained. "I wanted to save you. Tell me, what is your name?"

Xerxes thought it over. Was it wise to introduce himself to yet another stranger? This one seemed even more heroic than McGucket, and that didn't bode well with Xerxes, debt of life or no debt of life. And yet, he did not know the whole truth. Perhaps this creature was a true villain looking for his next sidekick in a scheme to vanquish the Manotaurs permanently. And so Xerxes almost lowered himself to the ground to drop the star shard and introduce himself as Ford.

The star shard, however, chose that time to activate.

In a twinkling, Xerxes was gone. The Multi-Bear stared at the empty space where he had floated for a while, not certain of what had just happened. Then he turned to make way for his home cavern, as the comrade he had saved obviously was not there to speak to anymore.

...

"And then," Lance said confidently as he strolled through the tunnels, "I took a bite, and it turned out what I had just fried up was NOT a plantain. It was a banana. And that's how I learned I shouldn't cook at three in the morning."

Jaune, Vida, and Cadance all had a good laugh. Shiro giggled politely. Coran even had a chuckle of his own, despite not knowing what either a plantain or a banana was. Only Keith sulked at the back of the crowd, walking stiffly, arms folded.

As Lance kept on with his stories of misadventures in food, Cadance took note of Keith's stoic demeanor, falling behind in order to trot next to him. "Are you all right?" she asked.

"I'm fine," Keith grunted.

"Okay," Cadance responded. "You just don't…seem fine. I don't want to intrude, but if there's anything I can do to help – "

"No. There isn't."

"All right," Cadance relented. "I'm sorry if I offended you, and I'm sure the others would be too if they knew – "

Keith sighed. "It's not you, okay? It's not any of you. It's me. I know you're all acting like you're fine with it now, but I know you think I'm the bad guy in all of this because I didn't trust you and made you confess your big secret."

"But we understand mistrust," Cadance told him. "We've all gone through it ourselves. No one thinks you're the 'bad guy.'"

"Then what do you think I am?"

Cadance thought it over. "I don't know. I don't think I know you well enough to be able to say what you're like."

Keith gave a short nod. "Good enough."

"You…don't connect well with people, do you?" Cadance guessed.

"No," Keith said flatly. "I don't. Which isn't a big deal, except, y'know, that I'm supposed to be the leader of this entire team. Look at Lance. Everyone loves him. Everyone listens to him."

"I bet everyone would listen to you, too," Cadance encouraged.

"Yeah, listen to me giving orders," Keith grunted. "I don't have anything else to offer. I'm not social like Lance and I'm not this total dad type like Shiro. And I'm definitely not Coran. I…shouldn't even have said anything to you. Now you're going to get all worried about me, and…don't. Just don't."

"Then I won't be worried," Cadance told him. "I'll just…casually see how I can help."

"You can't."

Up ahead, Lance continued, "Oh, yeah, I can fry a plantain pretty good. Your worlds might have fried plantains, but they're NOTHING like the ones I make."

"That almost sounds like a challenge," Vida laughed.

"What, you wanna have a cook-off?" Lance replied.

"I never pegged you for a cook, to be honest," Shiro admitted.

"That seemed more of Hunk's territory," Coran added.

"I might've picked up a few tips from him," Lance defended. "Well, okay, I can make a FEW things. But still, I could totally own you at it."

"You're on," Vida told him. "If we ever get the chance."

Lance's face fell. "Yeah…if we ever do get the chance," he repeated. "It's…probably going to be a while before I ever get any food from home again. Or anything from home, really. No food, no action movies, no…family…" He realized the downturn his tone had made. "But hey, it's just until Voltron is done saving the universe. It'll be fine. It's not like it's gonna be…forever." He didn't believe himself, and it was apparent.

"Same here," Vida sighed. "With everything going on, it might be a few years before I get to play any of my favorite tunes again."

Jaune shuffled his feet along the ground. "Even if I could go home," he admitted, "there's…not even much to go home to. I miss the food, the movies, and the music from Vale too. And my friends. But everything back there was ruined."

"Come now, it can't be as bad as all that," Coran encouraged. "At least you'll always have the good times in your memories! Like everything I remember about life on Altea! Which…isn't there anymore, I've remembered."

The entire group was plunged into silence.

Cadance nudged Keith. "I think what they need now," she whispered to him, "is a leader."

Keith looked to her with doubt; she nodded and nudged her head in the direction of the others. Keith stepped forward, bolstered by her silent endorsement. "There's no covering it up," he stated. "We've all lost a lot. Big things, small things…we're either waiting to go back home to it or we won't ever be able to see it again. We all miss something. I know…I might not be the best person to speak up, since there wasn't much for me to go back to anyway. But I can tell how much everything meant to the rest of you. And…everyone else out there, everyone being controlled by the Galra, everyone on those other worlds beyond the space we know, they've all lost things because of what's going on."

"You're right," Shiro replied. "Instead of focusing on what we miss, we have to think more about what everyone else – "

"That's not what I'm saying!" Keith blurted. "What I'm trying to say is that thinking about the things we've lost and the things we miss…it's why we fight! Because we all know what it's like to lose something! And if we don't fight, then everyone out there who's depending on us is goin it too. We're doing what we're doing because we want everyone else to be able to eat their favorite food, listen to their favorite music, watch their movies, hang out with their friends. Because we know what it's like. It's part of us now, like it or not. And some of us are lucky enough that when it's all over, we DO have something to go home to. So we need to fight so that everyone else can go home too!"

"I agree," Jaune said, holding his head high. "I'm not gonna let Vale happen anywhere else if I can help it. I just…sometimes feel like I can't help it."

"You can," Keith urged. "You've already come this far."

"Then we'll fight for Briarwood," Vida stated, "and every other town out there on every other world that's like Briarwood."

"For every planet like Altea," Shiro said with a smile toward Coran.

"For every prisoner of the Galra," Coran replied, returning the look.

Keith, feeling eyes on his back, looked over his shoulder to see Cadance smiling at him. And, to his surprise, he smiled right back.

He turned to face forward, now truly leading his faction in more than one sense, around the next corner in the tunnel.

He stopped short.

His breath caught in his throat, escaping only as a strangled "No…"

"Keith?" Shiro rushed around the bend to see what had elicited that reaction. "What's wr – "

He gasped.

The others immediately crowded after. "No," Coran muttered. "It can't be!"

"Who's that?" Jaune asked, voice trembling.

"I'm guessing bad news," Vida replied, sliding a foot back to brace herself for battle.

Sendak stood squarely in the middle of the tunnel ahead, arms crossed, leering at the company that had just come upon him. "Paladins of Voltron," he taunted. "Had you really thought you could dispose of me so easily?"

"We're not looking for a fight," Shiro attempted, knowing already he was doing the equivalent of trying to talk sense into a boulder.

"That's too bad for you," Sendak replied with a smirk. "Because I am."

He uncrossed his arms, extending his cybernetic limb and throwing it outward; it stayed connected to his body by an ever-elongating beam of purple energy. His fist hurtled directly toward Shiro's face.

"NO!" Vida and Jaune flanked Shiro, crossing their swords in front of him; Sendak's fist hit hard enough to push all three back, pressing the flats of the blades against Shiro.

"That does it!" Keith withdrew a long and wicked blade, running directly at Sendak. Sendak's arm had finished recoiling back toward his body; he made no move to raise it against Keith. Instead, five of the fiery cats Mirage had provided him sprang into existence in between himself and Keith.

"NOT THESE THINGS!" Jaune cried.

Keith slowed, slicing at one of the cats. It ducked beneath his blade, leaping up to tackle him, bringing him down with a collision at the chest and swiping sharp claws at his face.

"KEITH!" Lance and Shiro yelled in unison. Shiro rushed to take a swing at the cat with his own cybernetic arm while Lance withdrew his weapon: a red device that at first seemed to be no more than a disembodied handle, but solidified itself into a weighty gun. As Shiro punched the cat directly in the side, Lance opened fire on it; Keith was released, and Shiro quickly pulled him up and back into the fight.

The other four cats were already rushing the rest of the group. "Guys…" Jaune whimpered. "I don't know if I can do this…"

"We've got you, Jaune!" Vida yelled. "And I think these cats need to COOL DOWN!" She swiped her sword outward, summoning as much wind as she could without her wand. The cat she aimed at was surprised to have its fire completely doused. Vida gave a wild yell, plunging her sword directly into the back of the flameless cat.

The cat only flinched for a moment before lashing out with a claw, striking Vida in the leg.

"AUGH!" Vida staggered back, withdrawing her sword. The flames sprang back up over the cat's body, and she could discern no wound. "My sword didn't do anything!"

"They're spirits!" Cadance called out as she sent out burst after burst of bright blue energy to knock the cats back, including the one that had just thwarted Vida. "I don't think regular weapons can hurt them! The only way to get rid of them is to not be afraid!"

"I REALLY CAN'T DO THIS!" Jaune screamed as he brought up his shield to prevent a cat's claws from lacerating his face.

"You have to!" Cadance urged, sending an energy bolt his way to relieve him of his cat. "We can't let them overtake us!"

"You go on ahead!" Coran encouraged, realizing he was unarmed and stepping back. "I'll just…wait back here and be moral support! Go team! Extinguish that fire!" He swung his fist enthusiastically. "Pummel those cats! You can do it!"

"I've been waiting a long time for this," Sendak announced, approaching Shiro.

Keith and Lance took a position to either side of Shiro, clutching their weapons protectively.

"But this time," Sendak growled, "let's make it a fair fight. You against me, black paladin."

A throng of cats leapt from thin air. Shiro punched one back with his metal arm; the rest of them tackled Lance and Keith, forcing the duo backward. Shiro spun, afraid for his teammates' lives, but was relieved to see them emerge in a standing position, back-to-back, Keith keeping the cats at bay with his blade while Lance shot back any that tried to leap at him. And as they fought together, the cats around them grew ever smaller.

But while Shiro had his head turned, Sendak was drawing back for his next punch: one that would have snapped Shiro's neck upon impact.

The heavy metal arm went flying through the air; Shiro was one minute there, the next minute gone. Sendak's arm crashed to the ground as he spun to locate his quarry; Carpet had swooped in to pick Shiro up, zooming him around behind Sendak and to safety.

"Thanks," Shiro panted. "I owe you one." He patted Carpet's front edge. "Now let's finish this."

Carpet careened past Sendak quicker than Sendak could react; Shiro dealt a punch to Sendak's face with his metal fist. By the time Sendak could get his arm aimed at the direction Shiro was headed, Carpet had already taken him on a sharp turn, bringing him past Sendak for another blow.

The cats only grew in number, dividing themselves between the ring around Lance and Keith and the horde charging Vida, Jaune, Cadance, and Coran. "THAT'S THE SPIRIT!" Coran yelled as Vida, Jaune, and Cadance kept pushing the horde back. "YOU SHOW THOSE CATS WHAT YOU'RE MADE OF!"

But as the cats fencing in Keith and Lance shrank in size, those attempting to get close to Vida, Jaune, and Cadance were now tall enough for their backs to brush the ceiling. "It's me!" Jaune wailed. "They're getting bigger because of ME!" Realization struck him; he could think of only one way out. "I'm sorry, everyone!" He turned tail and darted back down the tunnel, the way they'd come, as fast as his legs could take him.

"Jaune?" Coran whipped about to watch him dash away. "JAUNE! COME BACK! YOU WERE DOING SO WELL!" Coran bolted after the blond warrior.

"JAUNE!" Keith growled upon seeing his ally desert. Gritting his teeth, knowing he had to figure out why his comrade had beat a retreat, Keith took a flying leap over the wall of cats, charging after Jaune and Coran as he knocked cat after cat aside.

"KEITH?" Lance cried, suddenly unsure of his odds without his teammate; the cats around him began to enlarge. "SERIOUSLY?" He spun a 360 while firing, his back no longer covered.

Some ways down the tunnel, when he was sure he'd left the battle far behind, Jaune halted, leaning a hand on the wall as he doubled over. His heart raced, and his breath was gaining on it in pace. Hatred burned deep inside of him: hatred that he couldn't help, hatred that the only way he could contribute was to run away, hatred of himself.

The two voices of vastly differing timbre grew louder behind him:

"Jaune?"  
"JAUNE!"

Jaune forced himself to turn around and meet Coran and Keith's eyes as the pair caught up with him. "What's gotten into you?" Coran asked. "You were doing so well!"

"WHY DID YOU LEAVE YOUR TEAM?" Keith roared.

"BECAUSE I WAS GOING TO GET US ALL KILLED!" Jaune cried. "Those cats…we've fought them before. They react to fear. They're…some kind of weird magic. If you're not afraid of them, they get smaller. But if you ARE afraid of them, they take that fear and they get bigger. Vida, Cadance, and Carpet are all able to be fearless, but I'm not."

"You KNOW fear is what does it?" Keith urged. "That sounds like nothing I've ever seen."

"Actually, his theory holds water," Coran admitted. "Keith, were you afraid of the cats when they cornered you and Lance?"  
"No," Keith insisted. "I knew we'd be fine. Lance had my back. As much as I hate to admit it, he always does."

"And he knew you had his," Coran pointed out. "I was watching you with my own two eyes, and the cats around you were actually getting smaller. But the cats that were charging the rest of us were as tall as this tunnel. And I happen to know for a fact that both Jaune and I were very, very afraid."

"You were afraid?" Jaune asked softly. "You…you were telling us to punch the cats. You were cheering us on. You weren't afraid."

"Oh, but I was," Coran admitted. "Terrified. It's probably a good thing I got out of there when I did, if those cats are powered by fear."

"You can't just cut it out?" Keith asked sternly. "Get it in your head that there are more important things?"

"I KNOW there are more important things," Jaune sighed. "It doesn't make any difference. It didn't the last time we faced those cats. I ruined everything."

"Don't be ashamed of being afraid," Coran told him. "If you can't help it, then you can't help it!"

Keith nodded. "Then you did do the best thing. The others will just have to finish the fight without us."

"Without you?" Jaune repeated. "Keith, you were one of the best warriors on the field, and you weren't scared at all. I heard you yelling at me for leaving the team. How can YOU abandon the team?"  
"Because you're a part of my team now," Keith asserted, "and I can't leave you. Or Coran. Lance, Shiro, and I are all outfitted with radios. Together, we can figure out when it's safe for you to go back. For now, if any of those cats end up following us, I need to be here to help protect you two."

"Thanks," Jaune said sincerely. "I mean it."

"Don't make a big deal out of it," Keith sniffed.

There was silence for a moment; it was apparent that no enemies were coming out of the woodwork anytime soon. "Uh, Keith…" Jaune shuffled a foot. "About earlier. I'm sorry if I made you feel like the bad guy because you didn't trust us. Really, we all get it. Back on my home world, there was this girl and her friends who went t our school. Well, okay, not a 'girl.' She was upper-class. An adult. We all thought she and her friends were just the cool kids. Not best friends, but part of us. Part of our school. Some of us looked up to her. It…turned out they were working for our enemies all along. I had to hear that she…" He paused, chewing his lip. After almost too long of a pause, during which Coran very nearly had the opportunity to tell Jaune he didn't have to relive whatever happened if he didn't want to, Jaune finished, "I had to hear that she killed one of my best friends. The enemy can be anywhere. If you were afraid I would do that to Lance or Shiro, I don't blame you."

"I don't think you're dangerous," Keith told him. "I did wonder. But I think I know what you really are now. If nothing else, you proved it when you and Vida put your swords up to protect Shiro." Tentatively, he reached out and clapped Jaune on the shoulder. "I'm…proud to call you my teammate. Even if it's temporary."

"And I'll follow your lead," Jaune replied. "But, uh…shouldn't you call Lance and Shiro if you're gonna – "

Keith immediately turned away from Jaune, activating the radio in his armor. "LANCE! SHIRO!"

"KEITH!" Lance's panicked voice came through the radio. "WHERE ARE YOU? I KINDA NEED YOU ON THIS ONE!"

"Kind of busy right now!" Shiro grunted.

"I can't come back," Keith answered. "I'll explain later. I have to stay with Jaune and Coran. You're going to have to finish the fight yourselves."

"We're WHAT?" Lance shrieked.

"You can DO this," Keith emphasized. "You guys have handled Sendak before."

"BUT LAST TIME, HE DIDN'T HAVE AN ARMY OF FLAMING CATS!" Lance yelled.

"Lance, listen to me!" Keith urged. "This is important! Jaune said the cats respond to fear. They get bigger when you're afraid and smaller when you're not."

"That would explain why they SUDDENLY ALL GOT GIANT," Lance responded.

"I need you to not be afraid, Lance," Keith insisted. "I know you can do it. You were handling it fine when I was with you. You just have to be able to do it alone. That goes for you too, Shiro."

"I'm on it!" Shiro managed in between assaults on Sendak.

"Remember, Lance…" Keith sighed; he'd never seen himself resorting to using the language he was about to employ. "You're our sharpshooter. You're the one who brought down Sendak last time we fought. There's a reason they call you the Tailor. In or out of the lion, YOU CAN WIN THIS FIGHT." He found he was smiling. "Or are you about to tell me the amazing and talented Lance chickened out because he couldn't take on a few monsters?"

"Oh, I am NOT a chicken!" Lance snapped back. "I'm everything you just said and more, and I'll prove it!"

"Good," Keith said decisively. "I need you to do one other thing. When you finish the fight, radio me back so I know when it's safe to bring back Jaune and Coran."

"Can do!" Shiro insisted.

"I gotcha!" Lance added. "Now, I've got some cat butt to kick!"

Keith turned to look at Jaune and Coran in turn. "They'll be fine," he said with a slight smile.

Jaune took a moment to wonder about Keith's attitude toward Lance. He was far more abrasive than Pyrrha ever would have been, but still, he took the same role of encouragement toward Lance that Jaune remembered Pyrrha having toward him. Jaune wondered just how accurate the parallel was.

The cats were shrinking. Sendak hadn't given up trying to reposition his arm to take down Shiro midflight, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw this. Vida, Cadance, and Lance had all managed to banish their fear, and Shiro had tunnel vision for Sendak only. It didn't even occur to him that Shiro's strange flat vehicle might also have had emotions. Sendak then knew what he had to do. Soon, he would be stripped of his arsenal. Perhaps trying to attack Shiro directly was the wrong move. After all, Shiro always had been protective of his teammates.

He ducked and ran out of Shiro's range, causing Carpet to become momentarily confused about which way to go. Stopping on a dime, Sendak raised his metal arm, throwing it. At first, Shiro found it almost laughable: Sendak's aim wasn't even close to him.

Then he realized it wasn't him Sendak was trying to hit.

"LANCE!"

The great fist sent Lance reeling back toward Vida and Cadance, both of whom gasped as they looked down at his dented armor, his bruised face.

"I'm…fine…" Lance croaked.

Shiro gritted his teeth, gearing up for another punch. Carpet zoomed, but Sendak ducked again.

"SHIRO!" Cadance yelled; the cats were beginning to gain size again, feeding off her and Vida's concern for Lance and Lance's own growing insecurity about being injured. "FLY THIS WAY!"

Carpet brought Shiro quickly to Vida, Cadance, and Lance's side. Cadance then forged a barrier wall between her friends and Sendak, using the same power she'd once harnessed to keep the Crystal Empire safe from Sombra's influence during the absence of the Crystal Heart; the cats were trapped on the other side as well. The fiery monsters scratched at the pale blue wall and Sendak hammered it with both fists.

"Lance!" Shiro knelt before his fellow paladin as Cadance and Vida looked on. "Are you okay?"

"I said I'm fine." Lance struggled to sit up. "Don't worry about – ow. No, seriously, don't."

"We aren't going to get anywhere this way," Vida realized. "Shiro's been pummeling this guy for a while, and he hasn't lost a step. That wall is the only thing we've done that's had any effect on him."

Sendak slammed his robotic fist hard against the barrier wall, to no avail. He roared wordlessly to express his frustration.

"Maybe we should run now," Vida suggested. "While he's trapped there."

"The further we get from the barrier, the more energy I would have to put into keeping it up," Cadance stated.

"And he'd find a way around the tunnels to get to us again," Shiro added.

"Are you kidding?" Lance argued. "He wouldn't care about us as soon as he found the Balmerans. He'd just start picking off whoever he could get to! Can't you put another wall on the other side of him?"

"And keep that wall up forever?" Cadance replied. "I do think I have an idea, though." Her eyes zeroed in on his mechanical arm. "When I say run, everypony turn and run that way." She nodded back down the tunnel, the way Jaune, Keith, and Coran had gone.

Shiro and Vida helped Lance to his feet. "Okaaaaaaay," Lance responded. "Is this part of a bigger plan?"

Cadance simply nodded.

"I trust you," Shiro told her.

Sendak gave another yell as he drew back his fist.

"RUN!" Cadance screamed, turning to flee. Vida, Lance, and Shiro did the same, with Carpet sweeping up Lance in order to prevent him from straining his battered body.

And Cadance let the wall fall.

Sendak's fist flew at his retreating opponents, trained on Cadance as its next target; if she couldn't cast her magic and put up her walls, Sendak could easily pick off the others.

Cadance spun, hooves scraping to a halt. She put up another barrier wall between herself and Sendak, glaring him down. But this time, his flying fist was on her side of the wall. The magic cut through the beam of violet energy, separating the arm from Sendak's shoulder.

Cadance barely had enough time to cast an aura of deflection around herself; the arm didn't hit her hard enough to break bone, but it did shove her to the ground, wracking her with pain and drawing a cry from her.

"CADANCE!" Vida, Lance, and Shiro screamed.

Cadance picked herself up, watching Sendak stare at her, stunned, from the other side of the wall. Planting all four hooves squarely on the ground, Cadance surged a wealth of magic through her horn. Sendak's disembodied metal arm, surrounded with aura, lifted into the air and turned about.

Sendak realized what was going to happen a split second too late.

The wall came down, and powered by Cadance's own magic, Sendak's own arm rocketed back to punch him squarely in the chest. He was sent tumbling head over heels, skidding down the tunnel, feeling something crack within his body.

"YEAH!" Lance cheered. "GO CADANCE!"

Vida gave a triumphant whoop, and Shiro flashed Cadance a thumbs-up. In that moment, all felt such joy in victory that any fear they had disappeared altogether.

The last of the cats dissipated in small wisps of flame.

Cadance, Vida, and Shiro then rushed Sendak, horn glowing, sword drawn, fist clenched. Carpet brought Lance not too far behind; Lance took aim with his gun. Sendak craned his head up from the ground to see the charging assault force, and in a panic, the cry escaped his lips: "Mirage!"

She materialized behind him, looking down upon him, fresh from her fight with the Spitfires. "Pathetic," she sighed. "I should just leave you here."

Cadance, Shiro, Vida, and Carpet halted upon Mirage's appearance. "Are you…Galra?" Shiro asked incredulously.

Mirage ignored him. "Luckily for you, I can see how you can still be of use to me," she told Sendak. "We just have to become frightening enough to actually pose a threat to these simpletons."

She then looked up at Vida, Cadance, Shiro, Lance, and Carpet. "Oh, you haven't won," she vowed. "Not by a long shot." Her hand raked through the air, sending a claw-mark-shape of green magic through the air.

Shiro stepped in front of Lance. Vida leapt in front of Shiro. Cadance threw a deflection shield in front of Vida. The claw cut through the shield, but was slowed, as though moving through gelatin, and when it connected with Vida, it only left her with skin-deep cuts as opposed to lacerations. She staggered and grunted; Mirage and Sendak both vanished.

"That was Mirage, wasn't it?" Cadance realized.

"Probably," Vida replied, her voice strained. "Ow…"

"Come on," Shiro urged. "We have to get you and Lance to the surface. You both need medical attention." He turned to his radio. "Keith! The fight is over. I think we won."

"You hear that, Keith?" Lance added. "It was mostly because of me, too."

"I knew you guys could pull through," Keith responded. "Our new friends, too."

Carpet tapped on Vida's shoulder, and she slipped onboard next to Lance. Keith, Coran, and Jaune came barreling down the tunnel to meet their companions.

"YOU DID IT!" Coran screamed, grinning brightly. "YOU DEFEATED HIM!"

"That just leaves us with one question," Keith brought up. "What was he doing here?"

"Obviously, after we jettisoned him, he landed here," Lance stated.

"It's too convenient," Keith told him. "We were far away from the Balmera. And he came along with monsters that Jaune knew."

"And an enemy we knew," Cadance added. "I thought it was bad enough that we had Maleficent and Mozenrath to deal with. But now, I think we might actually have to WORRY about Mirage. She said this wasn't over."

"You ever notice that all your major enemies' names start with M?" Lance pointed out.

"You should tell us all you know about Mirage," Shiro urged. "We'll discuss it on the way to the surface."

"Why are we – " Keith then took notice of Carpet's passengers. "Vida! LANCE!"

"We'll be fine," Vida insisted. "I just got scratched up, and Lance took a hit."

"It's all good," Lance added. "Everything just kinda hurts, but I'm good!"

Keith shook his head, unable to hide his smile. "That could probably have gone a lot worse for everyone," he admitted. "I'm…I'm glad you're all okay."

"I'm sorry I had to leave," Jaune added as the group began to make their way back down the tunnel. "I just…you know…"

"It's all right," Cadance reassured him. "You did what was best for this battle, and you're safe because of it. And I'm pretty sure that the next battle we face will be one you'll really be able to shine in."

"Well, that's beside the point," Jaune stated. "We need to talk about Mirage now. I have a bad feeling."

"About what?" Cadance asked.

"Besides the general bad feeling that we have enemies everywhere," Jaune replied, "more specifically, now that we've fought against her with the paladins, we basically got them involved. …Sorry."

Lance tried to shrug, but found it ached too much to do so. "We deal with worse on a daily basis," he stated. "Probably."

...

The Smisse brothers had led Mozenrath, Aghoul, Wuya, Yzma, Snatcher, Roman, the Huntsman, Ragdoll, and Mim to the base of a monolithic mountain. Overhead, the skies clouded dark, promising eventual rain.

"This is the place," Rémington announced. "The exact mountain where Ogrest bawled his eyes out for three hundred years and flooded the world. I don't know what you expect to find here, but it's the place with the longest history."

"This…Ogrest," Aghoul asked for clarification. "He was some kind of monster?"

"I don't know how the whole thing worked, myself," Rémington admitted.

"He somehow fused with several Dofus and transformed into a giant," Grany explained. "Apparently he's usually some cute-looking little kid."

"And what made him cry for so long?" Aghoul asked.

"They say he was betrayed by his lover," Rémington answered.

Aghoul snorted. "That's IT? What a sorry reason. Well, to the top of the mountain we go. You never know what those old types leave behind. Maybe even one of those dragon eggs you mentioned."

The climb began.

Mozenrath and Aghoul ended up out front of the rest. "So, Aghoul," Mozenrath posed. "Between everyone else here, I think I've learned almost everything I need to know about my life back home in the Seven Deserts."

"Well, good for you," Aghoul responded.

"There's just one thing that confuses me," Mozenrath admitted. "Did you and I know each other?"  
"We knew OF each other," Aghoul answered. "I hope you'd have heard of me, anyway. As for you, you couldn't swing a vampire bat without hitting someone who would be ready to scream, 'Oh, help! The fearsome Mozenrath is going to come in the night and steal my shadow!' That was MY bit, understand? You were a lot less personal. Less direct."

Mozenrath nodded. "Sounds about right."

"But we never really crossed paths," Aghoul clarified. "Not before the WHAM ARMY."

"Why not?" Mozenrath asked. "You seem like a devious fellow. Cruel. Sadistic. Morbid. Power-hungry. In other words, my type."

"Well, we were both lone wolves, you see," Aghoul went on.

"I thought you said you were part of a whole ship's crew of necromancers."

"I was," Aghoul confirmed. "The Black Viper. But that was hundreds of years ago. After the ship went down, well, those of us who couldn't have died from the wreck never found each other in the chaos, and we were forced to go our separate ways. The rest of them were mortal, and I never DID find any of them. Not even Rais. The, shall we say, non-mortals probably washed up on the shores of faraway nations."

"You were already dead before the crash, then," Mozenrath deduced.

"My boy," Aghoul said with a smirk, "I've ALWAYS been dead."

This was a bit much for Mozenrath to comprehend. "…What?"

"The necromancers of the Viper stitched me together out of the corpses of various victims," Aghoul explained, "and my first memory is waking up in this body. No heartbeat, no need to breathe, no need to eat unless I wanted to."

"That's…slightly horrifying."

"I pity the rest of you," Aghoul admitted. "Being alive sounds all kinds of messy and horrible. You can't even lose a limb without losing it permanently and risking bleeding to death, and who has time to be that careful? Now, it was Rais' idea, of course. He put all sorts of us undead on the crew of the Viper to bolster the living. You could say he was like our father, breathing unlife into all of us and raising us as his very own."

"Was he a good father?" Mozenrath asked. "I've been told that I had nothing but horrible fathers all in a row."

"He was an amazing man," Aghoul stated. "A bit cruel, when he had to be. So there was a flogging every now and again. Only when you deserved it! He had high standards. You have to, when you're shooting for the moon the way he did. Sort of like you, only less…hmm, what's the word? Suave. But now you can bet he's laboring in one bad afterlife or another. I'll tell you something about that capsizing, Mozenrath. That was nature declaring all-out war on us. So far, we've had to depend on the ocean to get from Point A to Point B more than once. But don't get cocky around the ocean. She knows what she doesn't like, and she pays attention."

"I'll…" Mozenrath found it hard to conceive of the ocean having such opinions. "Keep it in mind. So after that, you just went out on your own."

"Oh, I had my wives, of course," Aghoul clarified, "but I wouldn't have called them partners in crime. Not like Mimsie. They were servants to me and only me. So, yes, for all intents and purposes, I was on my own. Just like you had hundreds of undead servants, but you were technically on your own, besides Xerxes. Which reminds me." He reached up, giving Mozenrath a broad smack on the back of the head.

"Was that for something else I don't remember doing?" Mozenrath barked.

"The undead aren't just for you to make slaves out of, you know!" Aghoul emphasized. "We're people, too!"

"You…made slaves out of your wives."

"Not because they're undead! Because they're WIVES!"

"And it sounds to me like Rais – "

"That is COMPLETELY different! If I ever catch you making undead slaves again, then you and I are going to have some very bad blood between us."

"All right, all right," Mozenrath sighed. "So you didn't want any partners."

"No," Aghoul mused, "though I wouldn't have turned down being asked. That's what happened when Mirage created the last stand against Maleficent, after all. It sounded like a good old-fashioned party. Of course, you would never have asked me. Everyone knew Mozenrath worked alone. Except for Xerxes."

"So what changed?" Mozenrath asked. "How did I end up here, with all of you? What made me decide to go for the 'strength in numbers' approach?"

"Well, don't ask me!" Aghoul huffed. "I don't live in your head! I was as surprised to see you with Wuya and the Huntsman as anyone else would have been! I have no idea why you suddenly decided to play nice!"

"Then that one's just a mystery," Mozenrath sighed.

"Do you regret it?" Aghoul asked.

"I haven't had much experience with the alternative," Mozenrath replied, "but so far, I've been more than satisfied with this arrangement."

"Perhaps it was because you were lonely."

Mozenrath and Aghoul both halted, turning their heads in unison to see Ragdoll smiling up at them from a couple paces down the mountain.

"Think about it," Ragdoll went on. "Living in isolation for years, with nothing but a pet flying…thing. Even Aghoul had his wives. Your minions didn't even talk. You convinced yourself you liked it that way, when deep down, you longed for someone else to share your plans for conquest with. Someone who you could actually consider on your level."

"First of all, not likely," Mozenrath growled. "And second, I get the feeling you're just using this to mock me."

"Only because I know how much you hate the idea," Ragdoll countered. "Then again, it could just be as simple as my story. I worked alone. I loved working alone! Penguin offered me a sizeable fortune to throw my hat in with a team, and it turns out I'm a better team player than I thought. End of story. The more plausible option for you, don't you think?"

"Then why did you bring loneliness up?" Mozenrath snapped.

"To see that look on your face."

"I can still send you home."

"But do you REALLY want to?"

"You haven't done a single useful thing during this entire mission," Mozenrath pointed out.

"Haven't I?" Ragdoll countered. "Hmm. Going to have to change that."

"Just shut up." Mozenrath and Aghoul resumed walking; the others had all halted to witness the spectacle, and began the climb anew.

Atop the summit, the white-bearded man pried up the gem from the earth, running his thumb over it to clean it of the soil it had accrued. It was simply the mark of another fallen associate, he thought: the last thing she'd had to offer. The plan had apparently worked for several centuries after he'd tasked her with it, though to him, thanks to the phoenix-embossed crest that covered his chest, it had only been a matter of minutes. She was as much of a failure as the gargoyle, he thought to himself.

He straightened up, ready to pocket the large gem, when the party of eleven of the WHAM ARMY ascended to the summit and met his gaze.

"I'm sorry," he said with a smile that the others found incredibly disconcerting. "Were you looking for something?"

No one was quite sure how to answer.

"The cat has gotten all of your tongues, it seems," he went on.

"Who are YOU supposed to be?" Aghoul barked.

The man gave a slight laugh. "To you, I am merely the Archmage," he answered. "And yourselves?"  
"We'll tell you who we are," Mozenrath answered, "when you tell us who you REALLY are."

"Then I suppose we'll never know," the Archmage said coyly.

"Might I ask what that is in your hand?" Aghoul inquired.

"What makes you think I'm willing to tell you anything else, if not my name?" the Archmage replied. "You don't need to know what I have. It wouldn't be of any use to you anyway."

"Can't say we didn't try," Snatcher broke in. "Obviously nothing here for the taking. Mr. Smisse, might you direct us to wherever else – "

"I don't buy it," Aghoul snapped, looking the Archmage directly in the eye. "You turning up here of all places and picking up something apparently not important off the ground."

"It would certainly be much easier for you to believe that," the Archmage stated.

Aghoul held out his hand, letting his scythe come to it. "Does this change your tune?"  
"I see," the Archmage replied. "Why don't we have some fun, if that's the direction you wish to go? If you want it so badly, come take it. A useless rock from a defenseless old man. Will it really mean that much to you?"

"I don't like the way he's taunting us," Yzma stated flatly.

"Then we'll make him stop talking," Aghoul decided.

"That is NOT where I was going with that," Yzma warned.

"It's nothing personal," Aghoul said casually. "This is just how we solve all our problems." He broke into a run, swinging the scythe.

The Archmage stood stock-still until Aghoul was close enough to deal a chop toward him that might well have cleaved him in half. He pocketed the gem, flicking a hand outward. Aghoul was instantly blown backward; the rest of the WHAM ARMY scattered so as not to be bowled down like pins.

"Anyone else?" the Archmage challenged.

"Yes," Mozenrath growled. "Me."

"DON'T – " Yzma attempted.

Mozenrath sent a sizzling-hot beam of blue energy toward the Archmage. The Archmage put up a hand, absorbing the energy into his palm. His other hand went up, and a wider beam emerged from it, engulfing Mozenrath. The younger sorcerer was brought to his knees, howling in pain.

"All right, THAT'S IT!" Yzma loaded up the atlatl, cartwheeling quickly to launch a shot at the Archmage from the side. The dart was redirected in midair, careening toward Wuya. Wuya swiped the dart by the shaft, twirling it before planting the head into the ground and handspringing toward the Archmage. She came down at him from the air, feet-first, expecting to land on a deflection shield; when she did, she bounded off, planting her feet into the dirt and summoning a rush of emerald flames to engulf the spherical shield that covered the Archmage.

As the Archmage converted the shield into a cyclone of wind that pushed away the fire, he became aware of the Huntsman now descending upon him from behind, staff point aimed directly at his back. With one hand, he threw the Huntsman back; with the other, he caught and balled up a second firing from Mozenrath, launching it back in the form of a crackling electric sphere. Mozenrath ducked and ran; the sphere followed, seeking out his aura. Mim seized the sphere, ready to crunch it to nothing in her hands; surprisingly, it burned, and she dropped it with a "YEOWCH!" She kicked it like a soccer ball right back at the Archmage.

Roman, Rémington, and Snatcher trained the barrels of their guns upon the Archmage, opening full fire. However, the lightning and hot energy they propelled at him seemed to stick in midair, creating a glowing screen of missed ammunition that simply hung there as if to mock them. This screen swung around to intercept the next poison dart from Yzma, melting it into nothingness. Wuya took advantage of the open side, throwing all the magic she could; the Archmage put up a deflection wall on the other side that caught and held her blows instead of throwing them back or dissipating them. The glowing sphere Mim had kicked, he caught deftly, holding it high above his head.

The ammunition from the three gunners forged a wall on one side; Wuya's magic was stuck to the wall on the left. That created a narrow alley in which the Archmage was situated; Ragdoll rolled right down that alley from behind the Archmage, standing on both hands and wrapping his legs around the Archmage's neck to attempt to strangle him. The Archmage crashed the sphere of electricity against Ragdoll's feet, sending a shock through his entire body that forced him to go completely limp and drop to the ground.

The Archmage raised his hands, and to either side, the magic from Wuya and the ammunition from Rémington, Roman, and Snatcher rose up above him, beginning to spin in a cyclone. Mim had by this time shifted into the form of an Ursa, roaring as she charged. Aghoul stacked three skulls upon each other in his hand.

The cyclone exploded. Burning cinders rained upon Mim, slowing her. As she flinched, the Archmage sent another cyclone of wind at her to push her back. The three skulls came flying at him from behind, one by one, and were redirected to Mim, to Wuya, and to Mozenrath. Meanwhile, the fallout rained upon the trio of gunners; Rémington crouched over Grany to take the brunt of it while Snatcher and Roman backpedaled, nearly falling back over the slope of the mountain, unable to escape the falling embers that burned through their coats.

Mim, Wuya, and Mozenrath were thrown back as well by the explosions. The Huntsman had geared up to strike the Archmage again, but upon seeing Mozenrath hit the ground and not immediately get back up, he changed his mind, rushing to the young sorcerer's side and planting his staff in the ground to put a deflection sphere around the two of them.

"STOP ATTACKING HIM!" Yzma screamed. "HE'S ONLY GOING TO THROW IT BACK AT YOU!"

"I THINK WE FIGURED THAT OUT!" Roman yelled back as the rain of fire finally subsided over him.

"I DIDN'T COME ALL THE WAY UP THIS MOUNTAIN TO BE HUMILIATED!" Aghoul growled, bringing his scythe back to hand and running at the Archmage full tilt.

The Archmage responded by sending blast after blast into Aghoul's chest, causing Aghoul to fall and emit a scream none had ever heard from him before.

Mozenrath slowly peeled himself off the ground. "I'm…fine," he panted.

At the same time, Yzma rushed to help Wuya up; Wuya gladly took Yzma's arm, insisting, "I'm all right." She looked to Mozenrath, Mozenrath looked at the Huntsman, the Huntsman glanced at Yzma, and Yzma looked back to Wuya. "Get around me," Wuya growled.

The Huntsman dispelled his shield, and he and Mozenrath rushed to Wuya and Yzma. Wuya then looked over to where Rémington, Grany, Roman, and Snatcher were getting their bearings, waving them to come closer to her. Ragdoll rolled over to the group once he saw what they were doing; Mim galloped to the fringe of the crowd.

"While he's distracted by Aghoul," Wuya insisted. "Hit him with everything you've got! NOW!"

With magic blazing, weapons out, and claws shining, the ten rushed the Archmage's unguarded back.

It was as if the Archmage himself exploded. An immense burst of magic radiated out from him, and none of the eleven had time to register what was happening; one moment, all but Aghoul were charging – Aghoul trying to weather repeated blasts that threatened to tear him apart at the seams – and the next, they all lay on their backs, feeling as though a boulder had been dropped on each.

The Archmage laughed briefly. "For that display," he resolved, "I've decided to let you have what you came for. It will mean nothing to you. Then again, it hardly means anything to me." He fished the gem from his pocket, dropped it on the ground. "Until we meet again."

"Nnnnn…no," Mozenrath grunted, the first to sit up, propping himself on his elbows. "I…won't…let you." He tucked a leg beneath himself, forcing himself to stand. "I am Mozenrath, soon to be lord of all worlds, and I WON'T LET YOU GET AWAY WITH HUMILIATING ME AND MY ALLIES!" He drew back his fist for one final blow.

"Mozenrath," the Archmage repeated. "You don't give in, do you? I shall have to remember that name."

Mozenrath let the blast fly. The Archmage blinked out of presence before it could hit, letting the magic sail harmlessly into open air.

Breathing ragged, Mozenrath dropped to both knees, trying to comprehend what had just happened. While he was stunned into silence, it was Wuya who was next to stand, croaking out, "Anyone who's still alive, sound off."

There came a chorus of assertations:

"Aaaaaaaargh…"

"Think I'm good…"

"Eh, been worse."

"I HAAAATE HIM! HATE HATE HATE HATE – "

"I'm not alive. But then again, I never have been."

"Fine. Just can't see straight…wait…there we go."

"WHAT WAS THAT?"

"Doing just peachy."

"Alive, indeed."

Wuya turned her attention to Mozenrath. "And you?"

"He…he ruined us," Mozenrath muttered, eyes wide as he stared at the ground. "Like we were nothing." His voice took on a sharp edge. "He. RUINED. US. That can't HAPPEN. HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?"

"That is concerning," Wuya admitted. "Whatever we just fought for had better be worth it."

She strode forth, plucking the gem from the ground. Now it began to rain, drops of water spattering the gem's shining surface.

It was a heart. A heart forged of ogrine, which Wuya would later be informed was a common enough substance in the World of Twelve, oft used as currency. It glistened bright blue beneath the sparsely falling rain.

...

With Encre Noir's services unavailable, Yugo and Amalia had to charter the services of a stranger to sail them, Sora, Papyrus, Ruby, Jasmine, and Stork to Oma Island. "Promise me you'll stay offshore," Yugo made the crew swear. "It's going to get dangerous."

"We need to go in ready to fight," Ruby stated when the seven had a chance to regroup.

"How ready?" Sora asked.

"They might know as soon as we land," Stork pointed out. "Not to mention we're rushing directly into a hostile situation. So basically, as ready as we can be."

"I've got an idea," Sora announced. "Ruby, Papyrus, what if the three of us were ALREADY in a Drive when we got on shore?"

"Won't that take up a lot of your energy?" Ruby asked Sora.

"Well, yeah," Sora admitted, "but Stork's right. We need to go in like the battle's already started. We can't risk getting separated too far to pull it off."

"I AM READY!" Papyrus asserted.

"Me too!" Ruby agreed.

"As soon as we dock – " Sora began.

"OMA ISLAND, DEAD AHEAD!" the scout called out.

"Okay," Sora corrected, "I guess we're getting ready now." He put out a hand, and Ruby and Papyrus each clasped one before the trio glowed with a brilliant aura.

When Sora walked out onto the beach of Oma Island, it was with Ruby and Papyrus carried within, a short red cape trailing behind him as he walked with three Keyblades at his side. Stork, Jasmine, Amalia, and Yugo followed close behind.

From their vantage point atop the mountain in the isle's center, Hades asked, "That's it? Five? You're kidding me." He then did a double take. "Great. One of the five is THAT kid." His vision focused on Sora. "Oi. This is gonna be an annoyance."

"You know what to do," Tyrian told Qilby.

"I don't see anyone yet," Ruby stated.

"I HOPE WE'RE ON THE RIGHT SIDE OF THE ISLAND," Papyrus added.

"Does anyone else feel like we're walking into a giant trap?" Stork wondered out loud.

"What can they possibly have that we can't handle?" Sora countered.

"It's just that things are way too quiet," Stork went on. "And whenever things are too quiet, THAT'S how you know – "

One of Qilby's portals opened up on the ground next to Stork, and Tyrian came rocketing up through it, slashing outward with his wrist-blades. Stork's quick reflexes saved him from having his throat sliced; he tipped himself backward with a shriek just in time.

The portal closed, allowing Tyrian to stand on solid ground and grin madly at the party he'd engaged, drawing both wrists close to his chest in an X formation before swinging the blades outward to either side, forcing Amalia and Jasmine to backpedal in either direction. "So you decided to show up!" he declared.

"Wait!" Yugo realized. "You were the one who told me – "

"Surprise," Tyrian interrupted with a giggle. "It was all part of the plan! The plan to DESTROY ALL OF YOU before you could get too close!" He spun, aiming his blade for Jasmine.

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" Sora planted himself in front of Tyrian, all three of his blades intercepting Tyrian's wrist-mounted weapon. "You want a fight? Well, I'll – WHOA!"

The ground beneath Sora rose up, causing him to tip and fall down a terraformed slope where he came to rest lying on his back, looking up at a column of blue fire. The fire solidified into the shape of a familiar foe. "Long time, no see, kid," Hades greeted.

"HADES!" Sora cried.

"THIS ISN'T GOOD, IS IT?" Papyrus asked.

"You never call, you never write – it's almost like you don't care about me," Hades taunted before summoning a fireball to each hand. As he plunged the flaming attack downward, Sora leapt up, landing neatly on his feet and rounding on Hades. "Well, okay, I do have PLENTY of other nemeses," Hades went on. "Maybe I shouldn't be so SENSITIVE!" Upon the final word, orange flames erupted in long streams from both of his arms, and he spun a quick 360, attempting to catch Sora in the flame. Sora darted around the circle to avoid the fire, feeling his feet briefly leave the ground; when Hades halted, Sora did too, and he realized he had dashed in the form of a bright red beam flanked by rose petals that now fluttered to the ground.

"Kid's got some new moves," Hades remarked. "Impressive."

"That's not all we can do!" Sora raised his arms; the three Keyblades whirled around and around him like the spokes of a wheel, and bright blue bones joined them. He dashed at Hades, hoping to catch Hades in the rotation of the weaponry. However, as soon as they touched Hades, the god's form became incorporeal, only wisps of smoke that were caught up in the circular drift. Hades reappeared behind Sora, sending a hot blue blast of fire at him; the trio of Keyblades and their accompanying bones were repurposed into a shield to block the flames.

Meanwhile, Stork had tried to tackle Tyrian from behind, only for Tyrian to raise his scorpion tail threateningly and force Stork to back down. Tyrian twirled and spun, dancing toward Amalia to try and slice her skin.

"AMALIA!" Yugo reached out toward her –

And was grazed by the edge of a beam of energy produced by an Eliatrope portal.

"Hello again, Yugo," Qilby greeted as he descended in front of Yugo. "I've missed you. But you haven't missed me. I know this. You never think of me once you've imprisoned me. You just leave me to my fate, to suffer alone evermore. It's been six years for you. But it's been an ETERNITY for me."

"It's what you deserve!" Yugo spat, his sword and shield of energy materializing in his hands. "For what you do to every world you touch!"

"I put people out of their misery," Qilby stated. "You let me suffer. I think it's only fair…" Light bent itself into the shape of a great scythe in Qilby's hands; he drew it back. "That YOU DO THE SAME!" The scythe blade carved through the air.

Yugo leapt, and the blade passed harmlessly beneath him. Two more portals zapped energy toward him; he blocked each with his shield. He stabbed forward with his sword, and Qilby was gone, only to reappear behind Yugo.

This foe, Stork felt comfortable attacking without the risk of being pumped full of venom. And so he did, leaping onto Qilby from behind and causing the older Eliatrope to stumble as he attempted to pry Stork's limbs off from around him. "NOW, YUGO!" Stork urged.

Yugo charged, but Qilby was more limber, finally throwing Stork off over his head in such a way that Stork and Yugo collided, becoming a tangled mess on the ground. Qilby raised his scythe high; Yugo and Stork were only just quick enough to scatter to either side that the scythe didn't cleave them in half when it was brought down.

Amalia took the offensive against the Tyrian onslaught, bidding thick vines to erupt from the ground and attempt to entangle the madman. Tyrian cut through vine after vine, eager to get to his real target. Then again, he thought, if he just wanted Amalia dead, he would have employed the gun functions on his wrists. The outcome he had in mind was a little different.

As he cut down the next batch of vines, he was suddenly faced with Jasmine, who he had forgotten all about. Seeing an open spot in his attack pattern, Jasmine simply socked Tyrian in the face. This caused him to stagger back, wondering why it was always bare fists that were the death of him. She took advantage of his weakness, punching him again and again, while Amalia's vines snaked up around Tyrian's body and bound him, holding him several feet off the ground. He squirmed, finding there was no way to maneuver his wrist blades to sever the vines so long as his arms were pinned to his sides by the vegetation. It was as good of a time as any, he thought, to give the cue to bring the confrontation to its conclusion. And so he laughed: long and loud enough for all to hear.

"WHAT is so funny?" Amalia demanded.

"Just that you've won!" Tyrian cackled. "The Sadida princess has won." A rivulet of blood trickled from his nose briefly before his aura patched up the blow. "Of all people, the Sadida princess! That's HILARIOUS! Oh, but you don't know WHY it's hilarious, do you?"

"Stop playing games!" Amalia demanded.

"Oh, this isn't a game," Tyrian told her. 'This is very, very serious. At least, it will be once Hades, Qilby, and I DESTROY THIS WORLD. And the irony? WE'RE STARTING IN THE SADIDA KINGDOM! The very home of the girl who thinks she's just BEATEN me!"

"DESTROY THE SADIDA KINGDOM?" Yugo cried; Stork had to grasp him by the waist and whisk him away from Qilby's scythe, as he had lost bearing, distracted by the revelation.

"No," Qilby corrected, grinning toothily. "He said the world. The Sadida Kingdom is just where we're going to start."

"WHAT?" Sora yelled, grinding to a halt. "But that's impossible!"

"Not impossible!" Hades corrected, turning away from Sora for a moment; he knew Sora was too stunned to break out another attack. He raised his arms; "BADA…BOOM!"

Nox's clock rose from the ocean, water spilling out of its cracks and crannies. "Recognize THAT, Portal Boy?" Hades taunted before turning back to Sora, forming an onslaught of spikes out of the earth; Sora again became a blur of red as he sped up to outrun potential impalement.

"Nox's clock?" Yugo said in awe.

"What are you DOING with that?" Amalia demanded of Tyrian; Jasmine glared him down, fists balled up.

"It has the power to suck out all of the Wakfu in the entire world," Qilby explained, "especially if planted at the heart of the world."

"And guess who knows where that is?" Hades pointed out, snapping his fingers; fire rained on Sora from above, and Sora became a whirling cyclone of blades and bones in order to create a circular air current that would dissipate the dropping cinders.

Tyrian convulsed with laughter. "The tree!" he guffawed. "The tree in the Sadida Kingdom!"

"The tree of life…" Amalia realized.

"Qilby," Tyrian ordered, "get rid of these insects."

Qilby turned his attentions away from Yugo and Stork, snapping his fingers. Portals suddenly appeared in the ground below Jasmine and Amalia; the pair slipped through and disappeared.

"WHERE DID THEY GO?" Yugo demanded. "WHERE DID YOU SEND THEM?"

"Perhaps they're fine, simply transported to the other side of the world," Qilby stated. "Or perhaps they have been plunged into the fiery depths of a volcano, never for you to see again. Do you wish to find out?" He grinned as he turned back to Stork and Yugo.

"Youuuuuu," Stork growled. "You FREAK – "

He launched himself at Qilby and was swallowed by another portal.

"STORK!" Yugo screamed.

"And now," Qilby declared, "it is your turn."

"NO!" Yugo darted from side to side, avoiding the portals that opened up beneath him. "QILBYYYYYYY!"

His sword struck against Qilby's scythe blade again and again. Below, Hades raised both arms, and a hundred columns of fire erupted from below, forcing Sora to leap, roll, and speed his way around them. Drawing close to Hades' face, Sora swung all three blades again and again, only for Hades to disappear upon each one and reappear just a little further backward of each.

Portals shot energy beams at Yugo from all sides; the young Eliatrope hopped like the ground was hot, tumbling from foot to foot as he tried to retain his balance. The scythe carved through the air again, forcing Yugo to duck – and he kept going down, having fallen into a stray portal.

"Would you look at that?" Hades taunted Sora. "All your friends have gone bye-bye!" He suddenly grew, erupting into a thirty-foot-tall giant. Leaning down in close to Sora, his gigantic face leering at both the Keybearer and the friends held within him, he simply said, "Bye-bye."

He flicked Sora back with a finger; a portal opened up behind Sora, swallowing him whole.

Hades returned to the size most convenient for conversing with mortals before teleporting up next to Qilby; the pair walked down to Tyrian together in order for Qilby to slash through Tyrian's bonds.

"Using portals to transport that many people that far around the world takes more energy than I realized," Qilby admitted.

"Is it going to be a problem?" Tyrian asked.

"Not one bit," Qilby replied. "I was merely making conversation."

The trio looked out across the ocean, to where the great clock rested upon the surface of the waters. "So, how long do we give them?" Hades asked. "A day? An hour?"

"We will go to the tree now," Tyrian decided. "We'll be ready whenever they are."

"And knowing the Keybrat," Hades admitted, "that won't be long."

"Let's just hope Mozenrath is as quick on the uptake," Tyrian grumbled. "I could be completely ruined if it turns out he's an idiot."

The clock shuddered before walking across the water itself to meet its new masters, who clambered inside, ready to prepare for the final act.


	43. No Time to Waste

42\. No Time to Waste

Aghoul had tried everything on the blue heart, from magic to pounding it against the table of the small room in the inn that the eleven had crowded into with the intent to use it as a headquarters to make their next decision. At last, he admitted that he had no idea what to do with it, and the Archmage was right: it was of no use to the WHAM ARMY.

"Then that's a bust," Wuya remarked. "So much for old magic. Now, you've had your turn. There's only one person left to hold the compass."

"You better actually steal that cube," Aghoul cautioned as he forked the compass over. "Or else we're going to have to start all over. And I don't think anybody wants Roman in the lead of the team again."

"Will you people give me a break?" Roman sighed.

"Or," Ragdoll suggested, "you could let ME – "

"NO," everyone else in the room emphasized.

Wuya clutched the compass, letting out a low laugh. Her fingers curled around it, sending it into a small pocket carrying dimension in a puff of violet smoke. "First things first," she decreed, "let's patch up the aesthetic damage." She waved a hand toward Roman, whose coat was suddenly completely free of the wounds it had been dealt by the Archmage's rain of embers and electricity.

"Sweet!" Roman remarked as he twisted about to look around himself at the freshness of the fabric.

Wuya turned to look at Snatcher, who pulled his coat about himself protectively. "I'd rather you didn't," he grunted. "I've kept this coat up to standard with nothing but a needle, thread, and my own fingers for years. I'm not about to let it get all dolled up by magic now."

"Suit yourself," Wuya said with a shrug. "Does anyone else have any complaints?"

Most uttered responses in the negative. Mozenrath stared straight ahead, silent.

"I will say Aghoul's strategy wasn't COMPLETELY wrong," Wuya said as she went to work touching up the others' ensembles. "We could definitely use stronger magic on our side. Something that really packs a punch! But instead of chasing dead trails, we need a sure thing. Something we know will work. And that's where Rémington and Grany come in. After the Eliacube, what is the thing on this world we can most easily use for our evil scheme? The most powerful weapon you know!"

"Well, the Shushus come to mind," Rémington mused.

"You never explained that," Yzma told him. "What even IS a Shushu?"

"A Shushu," Rémington clarified, "is a demon that lives inside an ordinary object." He drew a pistol and twirled it. "Like this gun."

"Show-off," the gun droned. "You're going to make me dizzy if you keep that up."

"Shushus make weapons more powerful," Rémington went on. "If this were an ordinary gun, it wouldn't be half as accurate or pack half as much of a punch."

"But the fun part about Shushus," Grany cackled, "is when you merge with them to become an unstoppable monster."

"A tactic favored by my brother, not me," Rémington clarified. "It's very easy for a Shushu to take over your consciousness and become the one in control of your body. I've had to free Grany from the clutches of Shushus more times than I can count."

"It doesn't happen all that often," Grany argued, bristling. "It definitely happens less often than you trying to carry out a completely stupid idea that I have to bail you out of the fallout of."

"So you're saying our best shot is something we already have," Wuya sighed. "I don't see how your guns are going to make any difference if they haven't won us the fight already."

"Well, you haven't seen me transform yet," Grany argued.

"MORE IMPORTANTLY," Rémington went on, "these aren't even the most powerful Shushus there are. Oh, believe me, they're powerful. I wouldn't waste my time on something so-so. But there are worse out there. Especially Ombrage."

He paused, waiting for everyone to grasp the importance of the name he had just said by recognizing the moment of silence he gave it. At last, Yzma burst out, "What IS Ombrage?"

"She lives in a ring," Rémington explained, "and from what I hear, she has the power to transform people into mindless zombies."

"I'm out," Aghoul snorted.

"Not literal zombies," Rémington argued. "They aren't dead. Even though they do look that way, come to think of it."

"What did I SAY about undead slaves?" Aghoul asserted.

"He JUST said they only LOOK dead," Wuya emphasized. "Go on, Rémington."

"Actually, I think her trick is stealing shadows," Rémington mused.

"Stealing shadows!" Aghoul perked up. "Now, that I can get behind!"

"We actually ran into her, once," Grany explained. "A different Shushu was using her as a military force. Her army overran us and brought us into captivity."

"They say there is a risk that comes with using her," Rémington went on. "There are those who are said to have lost their senses of self entirely, giving in only to her desires and becoming who she said they were…claiming they loved her."

"Then we'll just give her to Ragdoll," Yzma stated. "He's expendable."

"You know, I'm beginning to feel unappreciated around here," Ragdoll broke in.

"Well, Mozenrath was right!" Yzma hissed. "You haven't done a SINGLE USEFUL THING outside of picking a few pockets!"

"Lay off Mister Twister, will you?" Roman snapped. "He's one of us now. He doesn't have to be USEFUL."

"I, for one, think he's an absolute riot to have around," Mim added.

Ragdoll beamed at her. "Why, tha – "

"But on the other hand, I always do love a good roasting session," Mim went on, "so don't stop pointing out how much weight he hasn't been pulling on my account!"

"Arguing will get us nowhere," the Huntsman broke in. "We simply have to choose someone to wield Ombrage who has the least risk of being charmed by her. I suggest either Wuya for her high level of magic or Rémington for his past experience with Shushus."

"I'll gladly volunteer for giving it the first try," Wuya said with a grin. "How bad can she possibly be when faced with the power of a Heylin Witch? I'll literally have her wrapped around my finger!"

"There's only one problem," Rémington stated. "After a rather…complicated incident, many of the world's most powerful Shushus were completely scattered. Ombrage was reportedly lost to the depths of the ocean. Maybe that's where she stayed. Or maybe she washed up on the shores of some island or another. No one knows. She could be literally anywhere in the world."

"Oh, that's just too bad," Wuya droned. "If only we had some sort of device that was enchanted to tell us where whatever we wanted was." She summoned the compass, waving it around. "Wherever are we supposed to find that kind of magic? I suppose we are completely without hope." She thrust the compass into Rémington's face; waggled it. "We will NEVER FIND THAT RING IN A MILLION YEARS."

"I get it, I get it," Rémington groaned.

"All we have to do," Wuya said in a more serious tone, drawing the compass close, "is command it to stop looking for the Eliacube and start looking for…"

The compass needle immediately swung around to point in a new direction.

"Perfect," Wuya said with a smirk. "Our plan is in place. Let's not waste any more time. Move out!"

Most everyone filed out of the room; Wuya was the second to last to leave. She noticed as she walked out that Mozenrath was not following; she turned back to see him still leaning against the wall, staring into thin air. "All right," she sighed, storming back into the room. "What is it?"

"The Archmage," Mozenrath said through gritted teeth, raising his hands to look into their palms. "He threw us aside like we were NOTHING." He clenched both fists. "Like swatting flies. We were supposed to be more powerful than that."

"You think I'm not mad about that?" Wuya retorted. "I spent years honing my powers as a Heylin Witch! I trained to become a conqueror of worlds! Even Hannibal Roy Bean had to answer to me! And now to be thrown around like some kind of rag doll – "

"Yes?" Ragdoll leaned back into the door frame.

"NOT YOU," Mozenrath and Wuya said at once.

Ragdoll shrugged. "Toodles." He took back off after the others.

"But we can't waste time moping!" Wuya insisted. "If we do that, then we'll never get the chance to pay him back later! And we WILL pay him back. We just need the right Sh – the right magic." She shook her head. "After all this time, I'm still having trouble not just saying we should go after Shen Gong Wu."

"Shen Gong What?"

"Magic from my world. Whoever was the master of the Shen Gong Wu decided whether good or evil reigned. I shouldn't need to tell you which side I was on."

"Well, maybe after this, we need to stop back on your world and arm ourselves with the most powerful Shen Gong Wu there are."

"We'll table the suggestion," Wuya decided. "For now, this Ombrage sounds like the closest thing we'll get to a Shen Gong Wu on this world. Once we have her in our grasp, Tyrian's little friends will have to bow to us! And so will that Archmage if we ever run into him again! Take it from me: when you're overpowered, the LAST thing you should do is give up."

"I take it this has happened to you before."

"Not in exactly the same context," Wuya explained. "More that…someone once stripped me of my powers in order to have control over me. I made sure he didn't come off the better for it. Now, are you going to sit here whining all day, or are you going to come help us find Ombrage and TAKE OUR CUBE?"

Mozenrath's brow furrowed. "I'm going to get that cube."

"Then HURRY IT UP!"

With a nod, Mozenrath breezed out of the room. Wuya finally followed, slamming the door behind her.

...

At last, Grimhilde thought to herself, she had done it. She held both hearts, Xander's and the girl's, high into the air, one in each hand as she stood on the edge of the cliff beneath darkened skies. The blood dribbled down her arms in a way that almost tickled as the wind whipped the fabric of her garments back violently.

The Dark Ace watched proudly from some distance back, knowing that it was because of him that the queen had succeeded. He was the one who had captured the girl. He had taken on and slain all those who Grimhilde had claimed he could not fight, and their bodies lay scattered in the ocean.

"It seems you have won," a voice said from behind him.

The Dark Ace turned to see an unusual sight: an alicorn of deep blue. Something about the view was familiar, but he couldn't place exactly what. "So we have," he confirmed. "What does it matter to you?"

"I wish to know whose hearts your queen has taken," the alicorn stated.

The ritual was completed; Grimhilde deftly crushed both hearts to dust before letting the remains be carried away by the wind.

"A foolish young man who fancied himself a hero," the Dark Ace boasted, "and the young chief's daughter of one of these islands."

"Did you know the girl's name?" the alicorn asked.

It never occurred to the Dark Ace that such information was valuable; he was, after all, dreaming, and truly only did have limited control over his own actions. "Moana," he said confidently. "It was Moana."

"Moana!" the alicorn gasped. She backed off, taking to the air.

Grimhilde was now turning to the Dark Ace, striding gracefully toward him. She opened her mouth to speak –

He woke up.

Xander, still bound, had drifted off to uncomfortable sleep against the cavern wall. Grimhilde stared into her mirror, a scowl darkening her face. So they hadn't won after all. Victory was still pending.

The Dark Ace pried himself up from the ground, approaching Grimhilde. "What do you see?" he asked, craning his neck to get a good look in the mirror.

Grimhilde immediately dismissed the image. Had she not been so concerned with the glass' visions being for her eyes alone, the Dark Ace might have spotted Luna, recalled her from the earlier battle, undone her entire advantage. But as it was, he only saw himself in the glass.

"It is none of your concern," Grimhilde stated coldly. "All you need to know is that the girl has not yet left the company of her protectors. We shall have to find a way to draw her out if this continues. Now that you are awake, keep watch. I wish to sleep."

"As you wish." The Dark Ace bowed.

Grimhilde retreated to the back of the cavern, and the Dark Ace took vigil at the entrance to the cavern, watching for a threat that would not come that night.

...

Luna's eyes snapped open. She lay on the planks of the great boat that carried her and her companions beneath a vast sky studded with brilliantly gleaming stars. Most of the group was asleep, but Moana and Riku were awake, keeping the boat on course. She could hear them discussing the sky overhead as the boat gently lapped over the ever-shifting dark ocean.

"I think I'm finally getting used to the constellations here," Riku said with a smile. "We had a different view back home."

Moana had stopped questioning the strange aspects of Riku's descriptions of his homeland; he had most likely come from the other side of the world. "All right," she told him, "time for a quiz. Which way is Motonui?"

Riku pointed. "That way."

"And where's Te Fiti?"

He pointed again. "In that direction."

"Good!" Moana nodded. "Soon enough, you'll be able to sail these waters on your own."

"I have to admit," Riku laughed, "I was having trouble until I figured out where Maui's hook was." He motioned to the appropriate constellation. "All those stories you told me about Maui stayed in my head, and now, whenever I need to find something in the sky, I start with that hook."

"Not a bad place to start," Moana remarked.

Luna gently trotted behind them. "Excuse me," she said softly, "but I have discovered something that you will want to know."

Riku and Moana turned to face her. "What happened?" Riku asked.

"Every night since we set sail," Luna explained, "I have been searching the minds of those of this world, trying to find the ones we pursued in hopes that we could learn more about them in their dreams. Tonight, I stumbled upon the dreams of the warrior with the red sword. He was most likely near the woman who orchestrated the kidnapping, but I dared not enter her dreams, lest she remember me. He seemed…less observant. More impetuous. I thought perhaps I could learn where they were hiding, but his dream did not yield that information. I saw something far more ghastly, I am afraid."

"Going into dreams is just something Luna can do – " Riku began to explain.

"Hey, I'm not going to question anything about you at this point," Moana told him.

Riku briefly wondered if now was the time to mention his otherworldly origins. He decided against it.

"The warrior dreamed of the witch taking Moana's heart and using it in her spell," Luna stated. "It was a dream, so perhaps it is not accurate. But your name was definitely mentioned, Moana."

"My name?" Moana repeated. "Me? They want to take my HEART?"

"I am afraid so," Luna stated.

"We'd better tell the others," Riku decided.

Nick, Nora, Ren, and Aladdin were roused – not without some difficulty on the part of waking Nora, who muttered nonsense for a full five minutes and then demanded pancakes before remembering where she was. When all were awake, Luna explained the gravity of the situation.

"This isn't good," Nick stated.

"Or…is it?" Aladdin challenged.

"HOW IS THIS GOOD?" Nora yelled at him.

"Well, think about it," Aladdin told her. "We have someone they want. That means we just might have a way to find Xander if we play our cards right. If we could somehow get Moana to go alone with them, then follow her…" He stopped to look to Moana. "I'm just thinking out loud. I don't want to put you in any danger that you're not – "

"I'll do it," Moana said resolutely. "If you're sure it's me they want…I want to help you get your friend back."

"You realize," Ren told her, "you're volunteering to walk into the lair of a pair of villains who probably want to kill you based on people you barely know."

"We've been sailing around these islands looking for Xander for days," Moana reminded them. "We're friends now. And more importantly…just, come on. Luna knows what the ocean says, and she can enter dreams. Also, she is a flying horse. You think I don't know a goddess when I see one? I have MET more than one god, you know! Well, okay, one goddess and one demigod, but it still counts! And I'm not going to turn down a mission from a goddess." She turned back to Aladdin. "Tell me the rest of your plan."

"Well, we'd still need a way to follow you," Aladdin mused. "A way to track you without them noticing so we could sneak after you. It's too bad that sigil you used on the guy with the sword didn't tell us much, or we could just use that."

"The problem with the Recusant's Sigil," Luna clarified, "is that Riku made a very small mark that was not charged. If I were to draw the sigil in a larger way on Moana and charge it through nature, I would be able to locate her anywhere in the world, and perhaps even beyond that."

"Then let's do that!" Moana decided. "Make the Rec…that mark on me, and I'll go act as bait!"

"Only if you are sure," Luna cautioned.

"I'm sure," Moana promised.

"Then we shall begin," Luna stated. "Turn around."

Moana turned her back on Luna, and Luna touched the tip of her horn to the nape of Moana's neck; in a shimmer, a great Recusant's Sigil of black appeared on Moana's back, hidden beneath her clothing. "Now step back into the center of the boat," Luna ordered.

"Why?" Moana asked.

"We are going to charge this sigil two ways," Luna explained. "Because I cast it, the first method we are going to use is moonlight."

"Okay." Moana stepped into the moonlight, gathering her hair over her shoulder.

The fabric of her clothing was going to get in the way slightly, Luna realized, but she wasn't about to ask Moana to disrobe in front of everyone, and the dual charging would more than enough offset the disruption of the moonlight's ability to reach the sigil. Everyone stood in silence for a moment, watching as the light simply shone down upon Moana.

"That should be enough moonlight," Luna announced. "Now, because of your connection to the ocean, we will use its water for the second charge. If you would kindly enter the water."

Moana obliged, sliding off the boat and into the sea, where she floated on her back until Luna said the charging had completed. As Moana clambered back onto the boat, Luna closed her eyes, sensing the sigil. It stood out clearly in her mind, vibrant and bright. She would be able to see it from great distances.

"You are ready," Luna declared.

"So when do we do this?" Moana asked.

"Once we find a suitable island," Luna told her, "and we may have to wait until sunrise. At least one of our enemies still sleeps."

...

There hadn't been an overly large turnout for the audition held at the Euripedes Auditorium. The theater was a grand but rickety old building, peeling paint and creaking floorboards hinting at its complex history. Perhaps five people had shown up for the specific role being presented that day, and three had already gone forth. That left two in the lobby, sitting on opposite ends of the room, finding they had nowhere to stare but at each other and nothing to do but make conversation. Conversing with strangers, of course, is a high-risk action. If it goes well, one may find oneself with a new friend. If not, one may find oneself kidnapped and locked inside an abandoned tuna canning facility.

One thought the other was a little old for the role, but wasn't about to say that, as it would have been incredibly rude. After all, the other had aged gracefully, her hair still raven-dark, probably as the result of dye. "Have you been in much theater?" they asked her.

She looked back at them, nodding her head. "A few shows," she confirmed. "And you?"

"I'm mostly in…" They struggled to find a way to describe it. "Independent productions. This is the first chance I've had in months to audition for an actual production."

"Well…" She considered telling them "Good luck" on purpose, hoping they were superstitious enough to be affected by the lingering stigma. She thought better of it. "Break a leg." She offered them an inviting smile. "What's your name?"  
"Landry O. Eliason." That was a lie. It was actually "Ainsley Orlando." "What's yours?"

"Elizabeth Ruse." That was a lie. It was actually "Ellington Feint."

The director, one W. Oscar, pushed open the crooked door to the lobby to call out, "Eliason?"

It took a moment.

"Landry O. Eliason," Oscar repeated.

"That's you," Ellington stated, her suspicion prickling.

"Right," Ainsley said suddenly. "It is." They stood, following Oscar to the auditorium itself.

"Do you mind if I watch?" Ellington asked.

"No," Ainsley told her. "Go ahead."

Ellington strode after Ainsley, taking a seat in the middle row of the auditorium, where she knew she would be easily missed. In her head, she was already doing the math: how long would she have while "Landry" rattled off their audition? She shifted to the edge of her seat, ready to creep away as soon as her rival for the role began to speak. She didn't really want the part, anyway. If she got it, so much the better, but she was here under false pretenses, an expression which here means "not to actually audition for a play."

"All right, Landry," Oscar encouraged as Ainsley positioned themselves in the center of the stage, beneath a glowing spotlight, taking a relaxed stance. "Whenever you're ready."

Completely on cue, Xerxes appeared in the midst of the auditorium, floating above the stage some distance away from Ainsley. Perplexed as to his new location, he veered around to the front of the stage to get a better look at the auditioner.

Not knowing, of course, that Ainsley was terrified of anything that even passingly resembled a snake.

They screamed, fleeing into the wings. There, they came across a chair used as a prop in the theater's most recent show. Driven entirely by panic and phobia, Ainsley picked up the chair and hurled it out at Xerxes, yelping all the while. Xerxes didn't see the chair coming; it bowled him completely offstage.

Ellington was already in the midst of making her escape. She had no clue what manner of creature had just appeared onstage (though it did resemble a creature her family had a history with, but that particular creature lacked the power of flight). The extra chaos, however, offered her some cover. She could run, wait for the incident to be over, and have some extra time while Ainsley made up for lost ground by redoing their botched audition. Then she could come back, act like she'd never been gone, and carry out her own audition. She slipped discreetly into the hallway.

When the chair smacked Xerxes, it dislodged the star shard from his mouth. Xerxes and the chair bowled right into the front row of seats while the star shard was sent sailing through the air, coming to rest in a ventilation shaft that was missing its grate near the floor. The shard teetered for a moment before rolling down the shaft to unknown parts of the theater below.

"NO!" Xerxes cried. He was desperate to regain the shard, but first and foremost, revenge was on his mind. If Ainsley was scared of him, then by the gods, Xerxes would give Ainsley a good scare. He bared his teeth, laughing as he sped onstage and into the wings.

Ainsley's screams took on an even higher pitch; in frenetic desperation, they made for a backstage door, bowling out into the hallway, tripping over their own feet in the process –

And nearly knocking down Ellington Feint, who was making her way down the hall. She halted in her tracks, not having expected someone to just come falling out of a door at her. Ainsley, lying on the ragged carpet, looked up, meeting Ellington's ankles with their eyes and seeing something that filled them with dread.

The top of one of Ellington's black socks was sagging. Only the very upper edge of the tattoo on her ankle was visible, but Ainsley was well-acquainted enough with that shape to know what it was. And just when they thought they had a well-earned rest from everything to do with that sigil.

There wasn't time to dwell on it. Ainsley dashed off a quick "Sorry" before scrambling to their feet to slam the door behind them; Xerxes plowed into the wood at full speed, whacking his head hard. Frustrated, Xerxes began to chew on the door handle from the other side in an attempt to pry the door open; Ainsley held it shut fast.

Ellington resumed her scurry down the hall; Ainsley called out to her, "Wait! Where are you going?"

"To the bathroom!" she yelled back, picking up the pace.

Ainsley knew better. They truly wanted to just ignore this: to go back onstage and focus on the audition. The entire point of using a false name was so that people didn't trace them back to the nefarious Count Olaf, who was at that time occupied at the Lucky Smells Lumbermill and leaving Ainsley relievingly unsupervised. For once, Ainsley could have actually furthered their career as an actor, a real actor, and not been tethered by a scheme that contained far more murder than they were comfortable with! But they also knew that if Olaf ever found out they had let someone with the mark of V.F.D. scuttle off to a suspicious location and not done anything to stop her, they would be in a world of trouble. Olaf would find some new and terrible way to chastise them. And somehow, Olaf would indeed find out.

Xerxes gave up on the door, opting instead to go after his missing shard. He tore out from backstage, fleeing into the vent down which he'd seen his treasure go.

When Oscar was quite sure the creature was gone, he rose from his seat, striding quickly backstage. Figuring Ainsley had gone through the back door to hide, he gave the handle a turn. Meeting resistance, he knew Ainsley was holding it shut to keep the beast at bay. "Landry," Oscar stated, "that thing is gone."

Letting out a breath of relief, Ainsley opened the door to face Oscar.

"I assume you want to finish your audition," Oscar said in a calm tone.

That's what I want to do, Ainsley thought, but that's not what I'm about to do.

"I…need to use the bathroom first," they said hurriedly before turning to hurry down the hall they'd seen Ellington disappear down.

"I'll wait!" Oscar called after them.

...

During Xayide, Neo, Ravess, and Vexen's journey through the tunnels of the Balmera, it became apparent that Vexen was not averse to long conversation when among people he respected, so long as the topic at hand was his favorite: himself. Neo took no umbrage with this, as she preferred to listen rather than speak anyway. Xayide took no umbrage; Vexen had no interest in asking her to do magical things for him, and his tirade about his many accomplishments was a much-needed break. As for Ravess, she found she actually enjoyed hearing about Vexen's skills in science.

"You mean to tell me you actually created a person?" she reiterated. "From nothing?"

"Not necessarily from nothing," Vexen recapitulated. "While I did create the replica Riku's body from tissue I cloned from my own genetics, I had to make his mind out of memories of Riku gathered from the fool Sora. Creating a physical body is child's play. Creating the mind inside is considerably more difficult. The Riku replica ended up far more unstable than I had originally planned, and sought to establish an identity for himself as the real Riku. Should I ever attempt to replicate again – which, I can assure you, I wish to do, as I still have yet to perfect the art – I shall have to find a source of thought, a 'spark' of life if you will, that does not come with the baggage of wishing to be the person whose memories were robbed. I should like to produce a creation that is, in fact, wholly original. The method still needs to be divined, but I will figure it out."

"You would actually be able to create life itself!" Ravess realized. "You realize that is something they say is only accomplished by gods."

"I will gladly take my place alongside them," Vexen stated.

"Perhaps you can create a less aggravating brother for me," Ravess sighed.

"I will definitely take it into consideration," Vexen replied. "Though I had wondered of the nature of your relationship. Do you really harbor true hatred for him? I would not blame you if you did. After all, I do. And yet the two of you traveled as a matching set upon your reunion in the wastelands."

Neo and Xayide exchanged surprised glances. After quite a while of talking about replicas and other experiments, this was the first time Vexen had asked a question of anyone else, and they weren't sure he had realized he'd done it.

"It is complicated," Ravess admitted. "There are days I wish I'd just left him to his fate. And yet there are days when he does impress me, even if only slightly. I have always had to be caretaker for both of us. He's far too stupid to survive on his own, even if you put him in a luxurious mansion filled with food and water, let alone in the wastelands. It…simply doesn't feel right to be without him. And yet I can hardly ever seem to find his company enjoyable. I'm not sure if this is sibling love or some sort of irrational attachment that has come from being in his presence too long."

"I wouldn't know," Vexen replied. "After all, I could not stand to be a caretaker any longer than I had to. Have you any idea what it's like, as a grown adult, to have to watch over a small child day in and day out, when that child does not, in fact, belong to you, but to your superior?"

"You think watching over Snipe now isn't exactly like watching a small child?" Ravess countered. "Besides, this is Ienzo you're referring to." She thought back on how he'd described the child only a short time earlier in the conversation. "He was quiet. Mature. He stayed out of trouble."

"Stayed out of trouble! I continually had to remind him NOT to wander off! And yet what did he do the minute my back was turned? I should have let the Unversed devour him! Then I wouldn't have had to put him on a metaphorical chain! I never asked for a child!"

"And I never asked for a brother!"

"If I may interrupt," Xayide said, "I believe that is what we are looking for." She gestured ahead.

The quartet had come upon an immense, glassy crystal half-submerged in what qualified for earth within the Balmera. "So it is," Vexen remarked, bristling that he hadn't been first to notice it. "We shall have to take care in removing it. It should respond to magical energy far better than more primitive methods of digging. Xayide! Dislodge it at once!"

Xayide nodded, slightly grumpy that it was now back on her to perform a magical favor but aware that no one else present was fit for the task. She knelt on the ground, settling her hands to the side of the crystal.

Neo suddenly flinched, waving to get the others' attention and pointing back down the tunnel.

"Stop, Xayide," Vexen commanded. "We are not alone."

The four turned to look down the tunnel, hearing the chatter of a large group of people.

"Actually, since we were under Galra domination for generations, they would never let us write our stories down in print," Shay was explaining to Kairi, Allura, Hunk, Pidge, Chip, Madison, and Genie. "So we made an oral tradition out of storytelling instead. I've memorized all the tales I was ever told as a child. It might even be close to a hundred now."

"You memorized a HUNDRED stories?" Chip repeated in awe.

"That's amazing – " Kairi began to say.

Then the two groups spotted each other in full, all falling silent.

Kairi was the first to break it, her voice hushed by complete shock: "Even…?"

"Oh, goodness, no," Vexen groaned.

"EVEN!" Kairi broke into a run toward him. "I can't believe it! We finally found you! We've been looking for you everywhere, and – "

"NOT!" Vexen thrust out his hand, sending a wall of icy spikes tilted in Kairi's direction to erupt from the ground; she skidded to a surprised halt. "ANOTHER! WORD!"

"Hey!" Madison snapped. "We broke into one of Maleficent's bases trying to find you! We were worried, okay? Especially Kairi! You could be a little more respectful!"

Vexen put an index finger on each of his temples, rubbing them slowly. "I was hoping not to deal with such nuisances on this mission."

"Who is this?" Ravess asked, disgust evident in her voice.

"Ansem's other child," Vexen replied. "Kairi. Thankfully, she spent most of her time as Ansem's mother's charge instead of mine. That being said, I had to watch over her far too much for my own liking. A sickeningly saccharine brat."

"Hey, are you even listening to us?" Hunk called out across the ice field. "They've been LOOKING for you. Stop pretending we're not here."

"It's okay," Kairi said softly, breaking into a smile. "That's just how Even is. He's always been grumpy."

"That seems to corroborate with what we have seen so far," Xayide teased.

"Where have you been?" Kairi asked. "How did you escape Maleficent?"

Vexen clicked his tongue, a smug smile spreading across his face. "Kairi, you naïve child, whatever made you think I had been taken by Maleficent?"

"You were on reconnaissance," Kairi reminded him. "You were looking into what Maleficent was doing in Radiant Garden. Then you disappeared – "

"Of my own volition, child," Vexen snapped. "Had I been forced to play babysitter to the Restoration Committee one moment longer, I would certainly have snapped."

"I'm…not so sure you didn't," Chip pointed out. "Kairi, something's off here."

"You're not even going to put up a pretense?" Xayide asked.

"You and Mr. Snatcher may find use in such tactics," Vexen grunted, "but I see no reason to thrust myself into a situation where I even have to pretend to not be utterly repulsed by her and her kind."

"Even…" Kairi trembled, the reality of what she was seeing beginning to take shape. "I'm…" She steeled herself. "I'm going to ask you one more time! Where were you?"

"If there's one upside to you finding me, it's to see the look on your face when I tell you this," Vexen stated smugly. "I have found a much more rewarding employer than your Committee. You may know him by the name 'Mozenrath.'"

Kairi, Madison, Chip, and Genie all gasped at this revelation.

"You're working with HIM?" Genie cried.

"As a matter of fact, yes," Vexen confirmed. "And DO stop calling me by that outdated moniker. I am 'Vexen' again."

"Again?" Madison repeated.

"He used that name when he was part of Organization XIII," Kairi explained, taking a tentative step back. "When he had Sora and Riku captive in his twisted game."

"Speaking of," Vexen said casually, "those two as well as you have been thorns in Mozenrath's side for far too long. I'm sure he would be most grateful if I brought one of his foes to him to dispose of as he saw fit."

"NO!" Kairi screamed. "YOU DON'T MEAN THAT!"

In the next moment, she was sealed in a block of ice that kept her still and silent.

"Hmph," Vexen grunted. "She didn't even attempt to draw her weapon. Such sentimentality would have gotten her destroyed regardless of me."

However, Madison, Chip, Allura, Hunk, and Pidge had drawn their weapons. Genie smacked one fist into the palm of the opposite hand. Shay stared Vexen down.

"Let her go right now," Allura threatened, "and we won't make this hard on you."

"I have a better idea." Vexen called his shield to hand in a shimmer of snowflakes. Neo twirled her parasol in her hand. Ravess fitted an arrow to her bow, drawing back. Xayide rubbed her hands together, producing sparks. Vexen's smirk widened as he looked over Kairi's companions; "I'll bring in the matching set."

He was able to divide his concentration enough to form ice casements around Allura, Pidge, and Genie. The former two were able to cut through their solid, cold bindings with their bayards – a bright pink whip in Allura's hands and a short green blade in Pidge's. Genie simply turned the ice around him into snowflakes, which fell into a perfectly formed snowman. "Do you want to build a snowmaaaaaan?" he sang sweetly before letting loose a burst of magic that melted the ice spikes between his party and Vexen's.

Ravess loosed an arrow at Chip; Hunk skidded between the two, his own bayard – in the form of an overlarge gun – raised and aimed. He let off a quick round of ammunition at the crystalline arrow; it was caught midflight and destroyed. Chip returned fire with a silver arrow from his crossbow; Ravess shot it out of the air with her next arrow, both shafts tumbling to the ground upon collision.

Once the field was clear of ice, Neo went charging across one way; Madison, Allura, and Pidge sped to meet her from the other direction. At a flick of Xayide's wrist, scarlet chains burst up from the ground to snap at Allura, Madison, and Pidge's ankles; Genie quickly retaliated, transforming the chains into vines that ended in bright red flowers. Neo cartwheeled, her foot deftly spinning around Pidge's bayard and smacking the green paladin in the chest. Pidge toppled to the ground; Neo rose up, one foot on Pidge's chest, drawing her blade from her umbrella.

"NO!" Allura cried, cracking her whip at Neo. Neo leapt out of the way, dancing past each of Allura's strikes with the whip. Madison rushed in with her sword, swinging it to meet Neo's blade, but instead of parrying, Neo merely ducked under the blade, letting Madison stagger.

"You know what I think, lady?" Genie told Xayide. "I think you need a TIME OUT!" He snapped his fingers, and Xayide found herself surrounded by a great metal cage. Xayide thrust out her own hands to retaliate, only to find no response from her magic. Somehow, the Genie's prison was hampering her ability to cast. She seized the bars, willing as much power as she could into her hands. With difficulty, she was able to pour heat through her restrained aura and down through her arms, the bars turning red in her arms. Genie's jaw dropped to the floor as he watched Xayide bend the bars far enough apart to step through.

"I don't appreciate being caged," Xayide stated casually before she summoned a great column of flame to engulf Genie.

"YYEEOOOOWWW!" Genie, now bright red, sped out of the fire, flying circles around Shay. "HOTHOTHOTHOTHOT!"

Madison gave up on Neo, quickly sidestepping and leaving her to Allura and Pidge, who were having little luck catching her. She held her sword high, charging Vexen. "KAIRI THOUGHT OF YOU LIKE FAMILY!" she cried as she swung the sword.

It bounced off the hard surface of Vexen's shield. "How touching," Vexen harrumphed.

"YOU BETRAYED HER!" Madison tried to jab the sword around the shield, but Vexen shifted slightly, blocking the blow. "YOU BETRAYED THE COMMITTEE!"

"Do you honestly still believe I care?" Vexen caused the ground beneath Madison's feet to solidify into ice; Madison slipped and fell, landing hard on her stomach, as her sword spun away. "I will say your friend lied. This hasn't been hard on us at all."

Ravess found herself locked into a stalemate. Firing upon Hunk and Chip was not working at all; they were able to strike down her arrows every time. However, she knew if she tried to switch targets, she would leave herself open to their fire. Gritting her teeth, she nocked her next arrow while stepping forward slowly, loosing it as she took a slighty quicker step, watching Hunk fire it down as she strode toward the pair of shooters, nocking, speeding, loosing, breaking into a run, leaping over where her arrow and Chip's collided, coming down hard enough to plant her foot into Hunk's face while letting the next arrow fly at Chip. There was a cry of pain as the crystalline tip lodged deep in Chip's shoulder.

Madison had enough time to scream "CHIP!" before she was enclosed in another chunk of ice.

Hunk was forced onto his back from the impact; Ravess repositioned both her feet upon his chest, aiming her next arrow at his head.

When Shay's fist connected with her stomach, the shot went wild and planted into the tunnel wall.

"YOU SHALL NOT HURT THEM!" Shay insisted, throwing her other fist at Ravess' face. With her free hand, she grabbed the bow and pulled. Ravess gripped tightly, but Shay's brawnier arm gave her the advantage, and the weapon slipped from Ravess' fingers completely. Shay snapped it over her knee.

"NO!" Ravess screamed. "You will PAY FOR THAT!" She threw a punch of her own at Shay's face – her feet now planted on Hunk's stomach. Hunk simply rolled over to throw her off balance and onto the ground.

"SHAY!" Chip tossed his crossbow to Shay as hard as he could with one arm injured. Shay caught it, fumbling briefly before pointing the weapon around at Ravess.

"You shall NOT harm them," Shay insisted once more.

Ravess scrambled backward on all fours. "No…this can't – "

A wall of ice rose between her and Shay. Ravess used this cover to retreat back behind Vexen. "Don't think this puts me in your debt," she snapped at him, her eyes locking onto his emerald green irises for just one crucial moment.

"I am not so foolish," Vexen replied.

Neo thrust her blade at Allura's face; Allura only just managed to evade, and several locks of her white hair were cut, tumbling to the ground. "Oh, that does it," the princess grumbled, swinging her bayard.

Pidge released her bayard's whip function as well, sending the short blade out like a grappling hook.

By chance, both of the bayards reached Neo at the same time. Neo escaped unscathed, but her blade was ensnared by the pink and green cords. She gasped as Allura and Pidge both pulled back at the same time; the blade was yanked away from her. Allura quickly darted forth, caught the blade by the hilt, and spun it to point at Neo.

Neo turned and barreled toward Vexen, who sighed and groaned, "All RIGHT."

This time, the ice went up around Allura and Pidge faster than they could comprehend it.

"ALLURA!" Hunk cried, trying to figure out where next to aim his gun; there was no single shot that would free his fellow paladins. "PIDGE!"

"BE QUIET!" Vexen yelled, freezing Hunk, Shay, and Chip in one blow.

All the while, Genie and Xayide had been trading blows. No matter what one could conjure, the other could meet it. Xayide forged a whip made of magic for each hand, lashing out; Genie transformed into a weed-whacker and cut through both. He was then choked by a host of vines that sprouted from the earth and threatened to tangle him; he took on his humanoid form once more and shrank to slip through. As each of his teammates became encased in ice, he became more and more nervous. He had to do something, he knew, and quickly so.

"Whew, it sure is a good thing you're using all this ice!" he yelled at Xayide. "If you'd been using fire, you would have roasted me by now!"

"So you don't like fire," Xayide replied with a smirk. "Then you can burn."

"XAYIDE, WAIT!" Vexen attempted to yell. "IT'S A TRAP – "

But Xayide was already loosing fireball after fireball at Genie, who flitted across the tunnel, hiding behind each of the blocks of ice that contained his friends in turn. As each fireball connected, it melted the icy prisons, freeing Kairi, Madison, Allura, Pidge, Chip, Hunk, and Shay.

"Now that we've got the band back together…" A ten-gallon hat appeared upon Genie's head, and a rope tied into a lasso materialized in his arms. "It's time to play VILLAIN ROUNDUP!" He twirled the lasso once, twice, thrice before slinging it at Vexen, Xayide, Neo, and Ravess. It pulled the four into close quarters, back to back.

"Your scroll is ringing," Ravess grunted to Vexen upon hearing a distinct high-pitched tone.

"I don't care!" Vexen barked.

Xayide struggled against the rope. "My…magic!" she grunted. "It's stifling my magic! I can barely use it!"

"Well, use what you have to get us out of here!" Ravess snapped.

"We're surrounded!" Vexen reminded them both. "You had better have a good exit strategy!"

Neo nudged hard against Vexen, nodding to let him know that she had it covered.

Kairi stormed forward to face Vexen. "I can't believe you," she said coldly, though her voice quavered. "I thought you changed. I thought you remembered what it was like to care about me! And what about IENZO?"

"Foolish girl," Vexen spat. "I never changed. And I never cared. Without a heart, I am better off. And that is what makes me stronger than you. Your purity of heart will make you soft in battle. You will NEVER become a true Keyblade master! You will die with open arms and tears in your eyes!"

Xayide was finally able to overpower the magic that Genie was using to keep the rope bound around the quartet. Neo activated her Semblance. All the heroes saw was the four villains suddenly evaporating into a gentle snowfall that rained from above as the rope tightened upon itself. Neo's blade and the remains of Ravess' bow were slid out of the hands of their captors.

"They're gone," Madison panted.

"We can't be too sure," Allura insisted. "Everyone, stay on your guard."

"Chip!" Shay knelt over the injured Yellow Ranger. "You are bleeding! We need to get you to the surface!"

"I'll be fine," Chip grunted.

Shay shook her head. "We need to go now. Can you stand? Can you walk?"

Chip proved that he could. "Okay. Let's go."

"Not to throw a monkey wrench into the plan," Genie interrupted, "but does that crystal look familiar to you?"

Madison realized it. "That's the shape we need for the hourglass!"

"Allura," Shay said, "I will guide Chip to the surface. Whoever wishes to accompany me may do so. You can give enough energy to the Balmera to exchange for the crystal." She began to guide Chip out of the tunnels; Pidge followed.

"Exchange energy?" Kairi asked softly. "How does that work?"

"The Balmera requires replenishment when its crystals are taken," Allura told Kairi. "I was able to give my energy as payment for years' worth of Galra mining, once. This should be far less strenuous."

"Can I try?" Kairi asked. "It's not fair to ask you to give energy for the crystal we need."

"If you're up to it," Allura told her, "then of course."

Kairi just gave a brief nod. Instinct led her to kneel before the crystal, placing her hands on the ground. She willed a small piece of herself to join the Balmera's aura of life, and as it did, the crystal unearthed itself.

"You're probably gonna need help carrying that," Hunk pointed out.

Kairi turned, giving him a weak smile. "Just a bit."

"Allow me!" Genie conjured up a wagon for the group to lay the crystal in; Hunk and Kairi took the front of the wagon, pulling it along as Allura led the way back out.

"Kairi," Hunk said, "I know this probably doesn't make things any better, but…I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Kairi replied. "You don't have to be sorry about anything. It was…me who was stupid. For thinking he could change. I knew all about the horrible things he did when he wasn't with the Committee. I just…I just thought…"

"Hey, sometimes, people change," Hunk reassured her. "And sometimes, people aren't as bad as you think. You just had rotten luck with that guy."

"You're right," Kairi replied, thinking of Riku and Ienzo. "I just wasted so much time – "

"He wasted your time, Kairi. You didn't waste anything. Literally ANYBODY else would have been glad you came this far to make sure they were safe."

"I must agree," Allura said firmly. "I may not know all you've been through looking for him, but I could tell your concern was genuine."

"He's right, though," Kairi sighed. "I am too soft. I'll never be able to master my weapon. I'll let everyone down."

"Allura's nice," Hunk pointed out. "She's nice to pretty much everyone. And she can still kick total butt. She's almost…is it too much of a stretch to say the heart of Voltron?"

"You flatter me, Hunk," Allura said, "but really, you're the better example."

"Don't listen to anything Ev – Vexen said about you," Madison urged. "He's a traitor and a liar. And he's wrong about you. You being nice is going to make you a BETTER Keybearer, not a worse one."

"Now," Kairi realized. "I just have to figure out…how to tell the Committee." She blinked back tears. "I…don't think I'll be able to talk for a while. I'm sorry."

"That's okay," Hunk reassured her. "We don't have to talk."

And while the group rolled the crystal along, they were silent.

...

Vexen, Ravess, Xayide, and Neo reconvened once they were sure they had reached enough of a distance away from their foes that they couldn't be found or followed.

"How absolutely dreadful," Ravess groaned, holding up the halves of her bow in dismay. "I can't imagine having to LIVE with that girl or any of her disgusting little friends."

"Believe me, the friends are new," Vexen muttered. "It seems as though the Keybearers are building their forces even more rapidly than we are building ours. This is worth a report to Mozenrath."

"I cannot believe they humiliated us that way!" Ravess ranted on. "That beast of a girl made me look like a complete fool! I can assure you, I do not normally have this problem! I am a competent fighter – "

"Say no more," Vexen interrupted, looking Ravess dead in the eye. "Given the circumstances, I would say you performed admirably."

Xayide hadn't known Vexen very long, but she could already tell that this was not part of his regular vocabulary. Neither had she missed that both times Vexen had acted uncharacteristically civil, it had been toward Ravess.

The scroll in Vexen's pocket kept on jingling. Neo put her hand up to her ear, giving Vexen a questioning look.

"All right, all right!" Vexen seethed, removing the scroll and holding it to his ear. "WHAT IS IT?" he barked.

"Spitfires reporting in," Irmaplotz answered.

"Irmaplotz, I don't have time for your ridiculous games!" Vexen barked. "Ravess, Xayide, Neo, and myself have just lost perhaps our only opportunity at obtaining the appropriate crystal to power the base!"

"Fine by us," Irmaplotz replied. "We found our own."

"Don't be ridiculous," Vexen snapped. "There's no way YOU THREE could have obtained an appropriate crystal when the actual competent half of this brigade failed to do so."

Firefly's voice cut in over the phone: "Then you might wanna look to your left."

Vexen's head swiveled; Neo, Xayide, and Ravess followed his gaze. Snipe, Irmaplotz, and Firefly strode down the side tunnel connected to Vexen's resting place, and the crystal Snipe carried clearly fit the requirements Vexen had asked.

Temporarily dumbstruck, Vexen hung up the scroll, slipping it into his pocket. "It seems you may be worth an infinitesimal amount after all," he relented as soon as he found his voice.

"All RIGHT!" Snipe bellowed. "We're INFINITESIMAL!"

"You just keep telling yourself that, brother," Ravess said with a smirk.

"Regardless of preconceived notions about each other," Xayide pointed out, "we must admit that these three succeeded where the four of us failed. Though I doubt they had any trouble with Keybearers."

"Oh, we had trouble, all right," Firefly related. "We ran into a crazy cat lady. And not the sexy kind that steals cat paraphernalia in a skin-tight black suit."

"She was some kind of sorceress, I guess," Irmaplotz added. "She thought she could scare us off with a bunch of fire elementals, but they were pushovers."

"An ally of the Keybearers who wish to play hero and vanquish us, perhaps?" Xayide theorized.

"She wasn't playing hero," Irmaplotz explained. "She was trying to scare us. She very specifically mentioned picking off Mozenrath's allies one by one to try and strike fear into him. It was pretty cliché."

"Then we have more than one enemy after us on this world alone," Vexen mused. "Very questionable. This shall all have to be taken into consideration with Mozenrath and his council. He may not be able to give a definitive course of action in his current amnesiac state, but I'm certain I can fill in the gaps." He took another look at the Spitfires. "I suppose this would explain why you returned for your armor, Garfield."

"About that," Firefly replied coldly. "Thanks for warning us about your little security system."

"I don't understand," Vexen replied.

"I think you do," Firefly insisted. "The way the entire base tried to snuff me out when I went back on my own. You better count yourself lucky I've dealt with weirder death traps back in Gotham."

"I do not count your safe return as luck," Vexen snorted. "However, what you have said concerns me. I set no such trap. The failing crystal at our home base may have caused fatal malfunctions. All the better we get our new crystal back to where it belongs."

"And then I can take a nap, right?" Irmaplotz asked.

Vexen cast a Corridor leading back to the Cyclonian warship. "Let us be off at once."

He strode confidently through, and his six cohorts followed.

...

The sky was thick with dark clouds above the nearest island that the boat of Moana and company docked at. It was clear this was a land unlike any that the questing group had encountered since setting out from Motonui: no plant life was visible save for the skeletonized trunks of leafless palm trees. The sand had been darkened in a way that reminded Riku, Nick, Nora, Ren, Luna, and especially Aladdin of the Black Sands in what was once Mozenrath's domicile.

"What happened here?" Nora wondered out loud as she looked about.

"The Darkness," Riku answered. "Its scent is strong here."

"We are close to Te Fiti," Moana explained. "When Maui stole her heart, the corruption of nature began with her and reached out to the islands closest to her. This was once a thriving paradise like my home. People probably LIVED here. But the Darkness overtook it, and now…" She trailed off.

"We don't know anybody lived here," Nick argued. "This might have just been an empty island."

"Guys?" Ren called over from a grove of dead palm trunks. "You're going to want to see this."

The group crowded around him to view the remains of a village, even bigger than Motonui. Planks that had once held up walls of homes cracked and fell apart, rotting in the sea air.

"It was a village," Moana breathed, horrified by the sight.

Riku rushed into the midst of the buildings, calling out, "Hello? IS ANYONE THERE?"

"No one is here," Moana said as she gently approached him from behind. "The Darkness robbed the fish from the oceans and poisoned the coconuts. If the people didn't sail away to find a new home, then they died of starvation."

Riku drank in the horror, hoping that the village's prior inhabitants had actually taken to the sea and found a more hospitable home.

"There's no way to know," Moana told him, knowing exactly what he was thinking.

"I just thought if there was anyone left," he said softly, "we should help them. But you're right. There's no one here."

"The person we need to help is Xander," Nick insisted. "We have to split up. Get Moana on her own."

"Luna," Riku asked, "can you still sense her?"

Luna nodded. "Wherever she goes, I will know."

"Good," Riku said definitively. "We'll round the perimeter of the island. Moana, you go that way – " He gestured. " – And we'll go the other way. It's a big island, so that should give Xander's kidnapper plenty of time. If she finds Moana, Luna will be able to sense it. If we meet up on the other side, we'll just have to try again on another island."

"Sounds good to me," Moana replied, smiling slightly.

"You're sure you're okay with this?" Riku asked her once more.

"I'll be fine," she promised. "Just don't forget to come after me."

She parted ways from the group, setting out along the shoreline while the others traced the other half of the perimeter.

The island was quite large, and Moana wandered its shores for thirty minutes, feeling a sense of dread borne from the absence of any sound but her own breath in her lungs and her feet against the sand.

Then, cutting through the heavy grayness of the air, a sudden raspy cry: "Help! Oh, help me!"

"I'M COMING!" Moana immediately cried, rushing inland, where she heard the call.

It was an old woman cloaked in black who staggered among the bare trunks of the palms, barely holding herself upright against them. "Please, help me!" she moaned plaintively.

"It's okay," Moana said once she came upon the woman. "I'm here. I can help."

"Oh, thank goodness," the woman sighed. "A girl. But you're not from around here, are you? I thought I was the only one."

Perhaps it really was a helpless victim who needed her assistance, Moana thought. Or perhaps this was the trap. Either way, this woman didn't need to now Moana wasn't alone. "I'm from another island," she stated. "I sometimes explore the seas by myself to…calm my nerves! Nothing like wayfinding to relax you, am I right?"

The old woman seemed to doubt her, looking into her eyes for an uncomfortably long time. "I've had to watch my village fall prey to the Darkness and die here," she said at last. "I am the only one. I tried to sail away myself, but every boat we have rotted away. It was the curse of Maui! Now I'm trapped here! And I'm running out of food." She withdrew an apple from the folds of her cloak. "All I have left is this sole apple."

The fruit appeared strange to Moana, and now she was convinced that this woman's claims were not legitimate. The theft of Te Fiti's heart was a thousand years ago, she thought; this village would have been dead for centuries. "I can take you to another island," Moana stated tentatively. "We can go back home to my village. There will be plenty of food for you there. You will be welcome."

"Oh, thank you, child," the woman sighed. "Thank you ever so much. Kindness like yours is very rare. It must be rewarded." She extended the hand holding the apple. "Here. Take it for yourself."

"Your only apple?" Moana replied. "That's all the food you have left! I can't take your LAST PIECE OF FOOD!"

"Oh, no, I insist," the woman urged. "There will be more food where you come from, will there not? I won't need this apple anymore."

"Oh, there'll be plenty of food, all right," Moana said with a nod. So this was the game, she realized. The woman wanted her to take a bite of the apple, which was likely poisoned. She didn't know how long she could feign the signs of death, but she would do what she could. "I think I'll take that apple after all. Thank you!"

Moana grasped the shining red fruit, taking it into her own hands. Her teeth broke the skin in one slow and careful bite. She held the flesh of the apple in her mouth, noticing her tongue begin to turn numb. So it was poison. She dropped the apple in the darkened sands, staggering, pretending to choke.

And the old woman began to laugh.

Moana placed both hands over her mouth, giving a few dramatic coughs as she transferred the apple's meat into her palms, getting rid of the offending flavor. Hopefully, she thought, holding it inside her mouth for as long as she did wouldn't undo her. She then let herself collapse right over onto the ground, the apple-meat hidden away in a clenched fist.

"FOOLISH GIRL!" Grimhilde crowed, levitating Moana by magic. "Soft hearts like you never realize how kindness will be their undoing! Now, sleep, princess. Make your last slumber a good one, since this time, there will be no kiss from a true love to wake you!" This was followed by a long, loud cackle.

Slumber, Moana thought. That was good. She could keep breathing, and Grimhilde would be none the wiser. If Riku and the others failed to come in time, she could drop the ruse, standing to defend herself. But what then, against a woman whose magic was powerful to lift Moana and now carry her across the island to where a hidden canoe lay waiting? She would try something, however ineffectual it was. And she would find the mysterious Xander and take him with her. After all, the woman was misinformed enough to call her a princess. She had to be taught a few things.

Grimhilde lay Moana down upon the planks of the canoe, with one of Moana's hands – the one clutching the chunks of apple – dangling into the water. The apple was discreetly let go.

Across the island, Luna flinched. "She is leaving the island."

...

Jasmine flinched, finding herself no longer on Oma Island but instead in an emerald-green valley with an uneven landscape; the sun shone high overhead, bathing the wooden houses below in bright light.

She spun, taking in the view. She had definitely been transported far away from Tyrian. How far, she couldn't quite ascertain yet. This made Qilby all the more dangerous of an adversary, she realized. She wasn't even sure she was still on the World of Twelve.

Knowing she had to figure out some answers, Jasmine jogged into the heart of the valley, looking out for someone she could ask about her predicament. Casting her gaze about, she took note of the fact that the valley seemed to be populated by anthropomorphic pandas. This neither confirmed nor denied that she was still on the same world she'd been not a moment ago.

She chose one of them at random: a panda – or, more technically, a Pandawa – who was occupied planting small bamboo shoots in a moderately sized field. "Excuse me," Jasmine said somewhat loudly.

"Hm?" The Pandawa stopped his work to look to her. "Ah hello, Miss! Can I help you?" He beamed.

"This is going to sound strange," Jasmine replied, "but I need to know where I am."

"Ah, yes!" the Pandawa stated. "You must be lost! Well, fear not, for you have come to absolutely the right place: the beautiful valley of Pandalucia! I am Pandiego de la Vega; who might you be?"

"My name is Jasmine," Jasmine responded.

"Jasmine!" Pandiego repeated. "A fitting name for you. It's pretty, just like you."

"I'm sorry, but I really don't have much time to spare," Jasmine insisted. "I need to know how close I am to the Sadida Kingdom." She prayed he'd heard of it.

"Not that far," Pandiego answered, "but not that close, either. Why? Is that where you are looking to go?"  
"Yes," Jasmine said with a nod. "The Sadidas are about to be in danger, and I – "

"The Sadidas? In danger?" Pandiego repeated, his expression souring. "I happen to have one very good Sadida friend, and I should hope no harm comes to her. What seems to be the problem?"

"Had you heard any news about Qilby?" Jasmine began.

Pandiego's brow only tightened. "If this involves Qilby, then it is a grave matter indeed. Tell me everything."

"I'm sorry, but I don't have time."

Pandiego nodded. "At least wait for me to gather a few friends. You can explain everything on the way."

"On the way?"

"I'm taking you to the Sadida Kingdom," Pandiego resolved, "and I'm bringing help to deal with Qilby when we get there."

...

Yugo barely had enough time to get his bearings before he ducked so the boufball wouldn't hit him in the head.

"TIME OUT!" the announcer of the game called. "We seem to have an uninvited guest on the field!"

Yugo recognized his surroundings as the Bonta boufbowl arena. Why Qilby would have transported him to the middle of an active game made little sense, but then again, he supposed, it was all about getting him as far away from Qilby as possible before the final plan was put into place.

"It seems to be Yugo!" the announcer realized. "The Eliatrope! Hero of the World of Twelve!"

The crowd went up in a cheer.

"Please, please!" Yugo thrust up his hands, waving them in order to try and silence the horde. "I need your help!"

"I think he's trying to say something to the audience!" the announcer declared; this shut everyone up.

"The Sadida Kingdom is in danger!" Yugo cried once he had room to speak. "I have to get there as soon as possible! It's Qilby! I think he's going to try and destroy this entire world!"

...

Amalia found herself surrounded by the silver sheen of metal. So it was back to the Crimson Claws with her. "How inconvenient!" she seethed.

But she was well aware of the danger Qilby posed to her kingdom, especially with his new companions. She needed all the help she could get, starting with a ride back to the mainland.

Her eyes alit upon the small building from which Adal conducted his business. "Of course, it had to be him," she sighed before trudging in that direction.

...

As soon as Sora hit the ground and the portal he'd been thrust through dissipated, Ruby and Papyrus separated from his body, rolling across the soil.

"Okay, that could've gone better," Ruby groaned meekly.

"THIS IS TERRIBLE!" Papyrus moaned. "IF THEY COULDN'T BEAT ALL THREE OF US WORKING TOGETHER…"

"We'll find a way," Sora insisted, sitting up; the other two were doing the same. "Right now, we've gotta get back to the Sadida Kingdom."

"You heard what Papyrus just said!" Ruby emphasized. "We can't take on those three on our own!"

"We've gotta take 'em on!" Sora cried. "It's the only way to save this world from them doing…whatever they're doing to drain all the life from it!"

"I said on our own," Ruby corrected. "We just need something else. Like better weapons, or a really smart plan, or a lot of help."

Papyrus stood to full height, taking a look around. "THERE APPEARS TO BE A CITY ON THE HORIZON," he noticed.

"Great!" Sora exclaimed, practically leaping to his feet. "We can ask for help there!"

The city was surrounded by a circular and dark wall; a troop of guards stood at posts around the barrier, especially thronging the gate. "They don't look friendly," Ruby remarked as the trio approached.

"I dunno," Sora rebutted. "They're smiling!"

And so they were, though it seemed a rather forced smile. The trio could by then see the rather unusual details of their bulky armor: their helmets were topped with a hammer-shaped piece of metal with a heart-shaped stamp fashioned on the end of each.

"HALT!" one said as the trio grew closer. "Are you happy?"

"Huh?" Sora was taken aback. "What kind of a question is that?"

"Just answer it," the guard growled.

"AS A MATTER OF FACT, NO!" Papyrus answered. "WE ARE MOST DISSATISFIED, TO PUT IT LIGHTLY! WE HAVE ONLY JUST DISCOVERED THAT A TRIO OF NEFARIOUS VILLAINS IS ABOUT TO DRAIN ALL THE ENERGY FROM THIS WORLD, STARTING WITH THE SADIDA KINGDOM! DOES THAT SOUND LIKE A HAPPY SITUATION TO YOU?"

"Then we can't let you in," the guard insisted. "Happiness is compulsory in the city of Breta! No one gets in with a frowning face!"

"DIDN'T YOU HEAR WHAT HE SAID?" Ruby screamed. "The entire WORLD is in danger!"

"Even in times of trouble," the guard capitulated, "the law is the law."

"Come on," Sora beckoned, beginning to step away from the gates. "We need to rethink this."

Ruby and Papyrus followed. "Maybe we should look somewhere else for help," Ruby suggested.

Sora shook his head. "We don't even know where we are. It might take us too long to find somewhere else. I've got a better plan. If we wanna get into that city, we just have to pretend to be happy! Better yet, we can actually MAKE ourselves happy!"

"AT A TIME LIKE THIS?" Papyrus scolded.

"Come on!" Sora encouraged. "If anyone could get through the end of the world with smiles on their faces, it's the three of us!"

"HE HAS A POINT," Papyrus realized.

"We've just gotta think happy thoughts," Sora commanded. "Sort of like when you're trying to fly."

"SPEAKING FROM EXPERIENCE," Papyrus told him, "THE MOOD YOU ARE IN DOES NOT AFFECT YOUR ABILITY TO ACTUALLY FLY."

"Oh, right," Sora realized. "That only works in Neverland. But we're not trying to fly, anyway. We're trying to get inside that city! So pick the happiest thoughts you can imagine!"

"Really?" Ruby groaned. "We're really doing this plan?"

"HMMM…WEARING THE UNIFORM OF AN HONORARY ROYAL GUARD!" Papyrus suggested. "COOKING A DELICIOUS MEAL FOR A TABLE FULL OF FRIENDS! MAKING SNOWMEN! RECEIVING THE LATEST GIFT FROM SANTA CLAUS!"

"Ooh, Santa's a good place to start!" Sora picked up. "Visiting Santa…sailing a pirate ship…winning a tournament with a shiny trophy…singing in a musical!"

"All right," Ruby sighed, giving in. "Eating a whole plate of cookies in one sitting. Food fights. Board games! All-girl rock bands! Cuddling with your dog! FORGING A NEW WEAPON!"

As the three returned to the gate, the guard, still with a false smile plastered upon his face, barked, "You three again! Come back when you're happy!"

"Do these look like the faces of unhappy people to you?" Sora asked. Ruby stuck out her tongue, Papyrus crossed his eyes, and Sora did both, all three making a loud "NYEHHHHHHHHH!"

"All right," the guard relented, "that's plenty happy. Come on in!"

Each had their hand stamped with a small heart on the back before being allowed entrance to Breta.

The city itself was largely pink and festooned with flowers on every available surface. The people who walked the streets each seemed to be humming their own song, though some of them seemed more genuinely gleeful about it than others. There was a smile on everyone's face, but on about half, it was downright forced; others seemed to enjoy the pro-happiness law.

"So…who do we ask for help?" Ruby wondered out loud.

"I SAY WE TRY THE BIG HOUSE IN THE CENTER!" Papyrus decreed.

"Might as well go right to the top," Sora agreed. Still in a good mood, he challenged, "Race you guys!"

"YOU'RE ON!" Ruby yelled before dashing away.

"YOU FORGOT ABOUT HER SPEED SEMBLANCE, DIDN'T YOU?" Papyrus realized.

"Yep," Sora admitted before he and Papyrus took off to try and catch up to the red blur.

Inside the palace of Breta, the governor, a dark-furred Ecaflip woman with long hair in a deep red shade sat upon the high throne, which towered twenty feet above the floor. A white-furred Ecaflip man with short chestnut hair stood at the throne's side. "It is a lovely day, isn't it?" the governor asked her husband.

"Melo, every day is lovely in Breta since you took back your throne," her husband replied. True, it had taken him a while to get used to the mandatory decree of happiness, but there was something to be said for forcing oneself to always have a good attitude. It put him in a state of contentment that was not easily broken. True, it had been a while since he'd felt true overwhelming bliss, but that didn't bother him much.

Three guards marched into the audience chamber. "Governor Melo!" the foremost guard announced. "Three visitors demand an audience with you!"

"Do they bring good news?" Melo asked.

"We asked," the guard continued, "and they said yes, they did."

"Then show them in," Melo commanded.

Sora, Ruby, and Papyrus strode into the chamber, each bowing slightly before Melo's throne. "So you're the governor," Sora greeted. "Nice to meet ya!"

"As it is a pleasure to meet you too!" Melo replied cheerfully. "What is the good news?"

"You get to help save the world today!" Sora announced.

"AT FIRST," Papyrus admitted, "WE THOUGHT OUR NEWS WAS BAD. BUT THINKING IT OVER, WE REALIZED THE BRIGHT SIDE TO IT!"

"Save the world," Melo mulled over. "What are we saving the world from, and how?"

"Qilby is sucking all of the energy out of this world at the Sadida Kingdom," Ruby explained. "We're not sure when, but it's going to be soon. We need to head there right away."

"The thing is…we're kinda lost," Sora admitted. "But if you help point us in the right direction, then, when we save the world from Qilby, you'll have helped save the world by helping us!"

"I do like the sounds of being a hero!" Melo agreed. "In fact, I think I shall send my strongest troops along with you to defeat him, and go to combat him personally!"

"That sounds like a wonderful idea, my love," her husband concurred. "Though Qilby is dangerous. I hate to admit it, but I am a little…" He squeaked out the next word: "Worried."

"Don't worry for me, Sho," Melo replied. "With all of our best guards and these three cheerful visitors on our side, how can we lose? Besides, this way, we can finally spread our happiness to the entire world!"

"Um, do you really think this was a good idea?" Ruby whispered to Sora and Papyrus. "Because I'm starting to think this wasn't a good idea."

"WE SHALL SET OFF AT ONCE!" Melo declared. "WE WILL SAVE THE WORLD, AND WE WILL MAKE THE SADIDA KINGDOM KNOW OUR HAPPINESS, WHETHER THEY WANT TO OR NOT!"

Sora shrugged.

"WE CAN PROBABLY DEAL WITH THIS LATER," Papyrus offered to Ruby.

"GUARDS!" Melo bellowed. "ASSEMBLE!" She turned to Sho. "My love, if you could please watch over the city of Breta while I am away…"

"Anything for you, my love," Sho replied sweetly.

"You think the others are okay?" Ruby wondered out loud, softly enough that Melo couldn't detect the uncertainty and negativity in her tone.

"I know they are," Sora said confidently. "And I bet they're rounding up help just like we are! There's no way we can lose!"

...

Shortly after Sora, Ruby, and Papyrus had figured out their entry pass to Breta, the WHAM ARMY docked on the other side of the island. They had taken their latest ship (the Devastating Pestilence) around the island's entire perimeter, and the whole while, the compass' needle had pointed right back at the landmass, indicating that Ombrage had washed up somewhere there. The eleven disembarked, with Wuya in the lead, keeping a careful eye on the swing of the needle.

"So how's being leader treating you so far?" Mozenrath asked as he sidled up next to Wuya.

"Actually," Wuya replied with a smirk, "I'm used to working with idiots, so this is familiar territory."

Everyone behind cried out "HEY!" or some form of it.

"Calm down," Wuya sighed. "At least I'm not planning to betray all of you in order to make a power play for myself. …Yet."

"So you backstabbed the last people you worked with," Mozenrath deduced.

"More or less," Wuya said with a shrug.

"Why them," Mozenrath asked, "and not us?"

"The question I ask myself every time I wake up in the morning," Wuya responded. "Well, let's compare you to the last group. Insofar as I have to parent any of you, which is more often than I'd like, it's never as strenuous as having to chase after Jack Spicer and tell him to rethink every single move he made. He was always trying to prove himself better than me when he had about as much evil in him as a dumpling. As for Chase Young…I won't lie; Mozenrath, you sometimes remind me of him. The difference is you've never put me on a short leash."

"Would he happen to be the one who repressed your powers?" Mozenrath asked.

"Yes," Wuya replied. "The fool thought he could prove his dominance over me by stripping me of almost all of my magic. I just proved I could make a little go a long way.

Her smile widened. "And then…there was Hannibal Roy Bean. I actually genuinely liked him for a change. He and I were planning to pull off the betrayal together. Sort of a partners-in-crime thing."

"Don't tell me you two were romantically involved," Mozenrath groaned. "And if you have to, spare me the details."

"We weren't," Wuya confirmed. "It was a completely platonic evil partnership. Sometimes, I still miss him. He'd probably get along well with this group."

"What were they REALLY like?" Mozenrath asked. "Besides annoying, controlling, and tolerable."

"Well, Spicer was an idiot with his head in the clouds," Wuya described. "If you think Roman Torchwick is impetuous, you should meet Jack Spicer. Which I don't actually recommend. He may know a lot about robots and machinery, but nothing about anything else. He's a loser, plain and simple, and he's afraid of everything. An absolute embarrassment. And he's loud. Not YOUR brand of loud. High-pitched and demanding loud.

"As I've said, Chase has more than a few things in common with Mozenrath. The attitude, the confidence, the narcissism…he's one for biting off more than he can chew and finding a way to swallow it anyway. It really is too bad he doesn't play well with others. And he does NOT play well with others. Then again, neither do I, and I probably would have done the same thing to him that he did to me, but I don't really care.

"As for Hannibal, he was a Heylin demon through and through! An embodiment of pure evil! He had class! He had style! He was even a bit playful. He was the trickiest of the Heylin I ever knew, and his power stopped just short of rivaling mine! That's the basic rundown. There were more, of course. The cat girl, the fat ninja, the Cyclops…but those were the important ones."

"Sounds like a real party," Mozenrath stated.

"Believe me, it wasn't," Wuya told him. "As for you…I can actually respect you. Even Ragdoll at his most useless is good for SOMETHING."

"My talents have just been underutilized on this mission," Ragdoll argued. "That's all."

"And there's something harder to explain," Wuya admitted. "When you let me out of that puzzle box, I wasn't actually intending to LIKE you. ANY of you. But you all got under my skin and grew like some kind of painful infection. So congratulations. You did it. You made me not actually want to destroy you all in your sleep."

"I'll take it," Mozenrath stated. "Though I don't exactly see you complaining about being in charge."

"Because I absolutely love being in charge," Wuya confirmed. "And you're all still idiots. Just the likable kind."

"I have one question more about these…Heylin," Yzma broke in. "Did they know how to put on a good karaoke night? Or a dance party. Either/or."

"Not at all," Wuya replied. "That's your other advantage over them."

"Here's my deal," Mozenrath proposed. "You keep not backstabbing us, and we won't put limiters on your magic. You don't hurt us, and we won't throw you in a puzzle box."

"Deal," Wuya said with a nod.

The compass needle began to spin round and round rapidly. "We're right on top of it," Wuya realized, using her foot to dig into the sand and shove it aside. A small purple ring with a spherical stone edged by prongs that resembled catlike ears was revealed.

"Can it be?" a soft, feminine voice emanated from the ring. "Has my true guardian come to save me? Oh, please, let it be true! Save me, and I will be yours forevermore!"

"Can it," Wuya snapped as she bent to pick up the ring in one swift motion, holding it up in the palm of her hand, fingers barely curving into claw shapes around it. "I know your tricks. Did you really think I was going to fall in love with you at first sight?"

"Love at first sight?" the ring continued. "No one believes in that!"

"Now, that's more like it," Wuya chuckled. "So you're Ombrage."

"You've heard of me," Ombrage replied. "Who are you? You are something I've never seen before on this world. You are…different."

"I'm a Heylin Witch," Wuya answered, "and my name is Wuya. You now belong to me. Actually, it's a relief being able to pick up something magical off the ground without having to challenge someone to a ridiculous competition over it."

"I am very magical," Ombrage boasted. "I can give you my powers. I can make you a force to be reckoned with."

"I already am a force to be reckoned with," Wuya stated. "Not that I won't make use of your powers as well. I've heard you can steal shadows."

"Among many other things, yes!" Ombrage confirmed. "As many shadows as you want! All I need is for you to agree to become my guardian."

"And?" Wuya went on. "What's the catch?"

"There isn't one!" Ombrage insisted. "Unless, of course, you wanted to…help me take on a physical form…"

"Off the table," Wuya snapped.

"Please?" Ombrage begged. "I could help you even more that way!"

"What if I said I'll think about it?" Wuya replied. She had already resolved not to. But she needed to say something to get Ombrage to agree to work with her, and she knew it.

"All I need you to do is consider," Ombrage promised.

Wuya nodded. "Consider it considered. Now, about you helping me."

"Yes, yes!" Ombrage urged. "Just slip me around your finger!"

"That didn't sound dirty at all," Roman mocked.

"All right," Wuya affirmed. "Starting now…I'm your guardian. Don't make me regret this!"

She gently slid the ring containing Ombrage onto her right ring finger. As soon as she had done so, she felt a jolt; black curlicues of pigment spiraled up the skin of her arms, marking her as a guardian bonded with her Shushu. She staggered slightly; already she could feel a rush of power she hadn't known before added to her own.

Then she became aware of the rest staring at her; of course, none of them wanted to stoop to asking if she was all right. "What are you looking at?" she barked. "We have what we wanted now! All we need to do is test it."

"Yes, yes, a test!" Ombrage encouraged. "Let me show you what I can do!"

"There's civilization on this island, right?" Wuya asked.

"I will take you there!" Ombrage insisted.

Wuya felt herself swept up, becoming a black shadow that whipped over the land of the island. She forced herself back into human form, digging her toes into the earth. "WHAT was that?" she barked at the ring on her hand, looking back over her shoulder at the beach she'd left behind.

"I was taking you to the city!" Ombrage answered. "Like you asked!"

"Not without my idiots," Wuya growled. "We wait for them to catch up and we keep them close, or we don't have a deal. You will tell me, USING WORDS, the way to the city. Or I throw you in the ocean. Do you understand?"

"You wouldn't throw me in the ocean," Ombrage tested.

"Wouldn't I?" Wuya slid Ombrage off her finger. "I happen to like my idiots. That's why I don't want to destroy them every time they slip up. You, on the other hand, are not one of mine. You're completely disposable."

Ombrage was curled into a fist, and the arm swung round, winding up for a pitch.

"WAIT!" Ombrage cried. "DON'T!"

"You have one sentence to change my mind," Wuya warned.

"I'll look after your friends!" Ombrage promised. "I swear! They are the next most valuable people in the entire Krozmos after you!"

"That's more like it." Ombrage was returned to her resting place on Wuya's finger; Wuya once again felt the rush of their powers melding, the light tickle of the demon markings decorating her arm.

The Huntsman was the first to come into view, leading the charge after her. "I've found her!" he called back to the rest. To Wuya, he said, "To think you would leave us behind after that heartfelt confession."

"It won't happen again," Wuya replied dryly. "Will it?"

"Absolutely not," Ombrage vowed.

...

No guards showed the visitors into the Breta audience chamber this time. Sho sat upon the throne, watching as the ten strangers and their Bow Meow simply walked into the room.

"Do you bring good news?" he asked.

"That depends," Wuya replied. "Where are all of your guards? This seems pathetically low-security for the heart of a thriving metropolis. There wasn't even anyone at the gate."

"That is because my guards, along with the governor, are going to save the world," Sho replied.

"Explain," Wuya demanded.

"You haven't heard?" Sho said in surprise. "Qilby is going to drain all of the Wakfu of the world out through the Tree of Life in the Sadida Kingdom. The governor and all of her best men and women have gone to stop him, along with three very odd strangers in red."

"Right back where we started, is it?" Snatcher broke in.

"Well, now we know where he's going," Aghoul stated. "Took him long enough to decide he wanted to get there."

"And where Qilby goes," Mozenrath reminded the group, "the Eliacube goes. If he really intends to drain all the…" He looked to Rémington.

"Wakfu," Rémington defined. "Life force. Energy."

"If he really intends to drain all of that from the world," Mozenrath stated, "he's going to have to stay in one place."

"Not for too long," Grany clarified. "If he takes all the Wakfu from the world, the world will implode!"

"Or maybe explode," Rémington said casually.

"Which isn't much better!" Grany snapped.

"Well, he'll be there just long enough for us to take our cube and leave," Mozenrath emphasized.

Sho shook his head. "This really all sounds like bad news. And if you are bringing bad news into Breta, I must insist you leave."

"I'm afraid we have even more bad news," Wuya taunted, smirking.

"Don't tell me," Sho huffed. "I don't want to hear it!"

"Then I won't tell you." Wuya transformed into a shadow just long enough to flick up to level height with Sho on the throne before reforming, levitating in front of him. "I'll show you."

She held out her fist, with Ombrage gleaming on the ring finger, in Sho's face, which had taken on an appearance of terror.

And that was the last thing Sho remembered.

...

Hidden deep within the heart of the Sadida Kingdom was a secret, sacred place. It took the form of a cavernous grotto, with luminous sea-green walls. Only certain hidden pathways led to this place, where amidst a pool of water surrounded by beaches of green grass, the oldest creation of the Sadida god, the Tree of Life, sprouted and twisted, its bark alive with the writhing names of every living Sadida written in it. The tree itself was connected to all Sadida, and its destruction would have meant the end of the race. But the cavern itself carried even more gravity: it was the heart of the World of Twelve, and a discerning eye could have found a sizeable keyhole in its walls.

Thanks to Hades, the great clock that had once belonged to Noximilien bypassed all of the secret doors and passages, moving through the Darkness directly into the cavern. It rested on one of the beaches, two of its mechanical legs sunken into the pool of water.

"Be careful," Qilby warned his two companions. "This place is full of tricks. Don't believe everything you see, especially if it is what you want to see."

"Don't even worry about it," Hades rebutted. "This is god stuff, and, if you'll remember, small little detail, I am a GOD. Whatever this tree wants you to see, nope. Nada. None of it. Down here, so long as I'm around, what you see is what you get."

"Qilby," Tyrian said with a wide grin, "I believe in order to start work, we need something from you."

"We don't need to start work yet," Qilby grunted. "They won't arrive for some time."

"You're only saying that because when you give up your hand, you won't even have power," Tyrian teased.

"Not QUITE true, actually," Hades interjected. "What if I told you that you could take off the cube arm and STILL have two hands, not to mention upgraded portals thrown in completely free of charge?"  
"I'm listening," Qilby stated, interest piqued.

"Here's what I'm thinkin'," Hades said. "I give you a superpowered arm, just like the one you have on now, only THIS one runs on Underworld juice. You and the cube can be as far apart from each other as you want, and you'll still have all the powers of the cube. Plus, making portals that send people halfway across the world won't be such a drag on you anymore. All you have to do is strike a deal with your local Chthonic god, that's me, and the aforementioned is totally yours! Of course, not for free. I am going to ask one tiny little thing by the way of payment."

"And that is?" Qilby asked, suspiciously raising a brow.

"Something I've basically had since we started working together," Hades told him. "I just need you to make it official. You have to swear complete and total loyalty to the boss. Not me. The REAL boss. Maleficent. No, you haven't met her yet, but I have a feeling you're gonna like her. It was her sending us here that got you out of the plane of eternal boredom in the first place. By working with us, you have in fact been working for her. Literally nothing changes. Look at me. Look, Qilbs. Do I look like the kind of guy who would lie to you about this?"

"I suppose if I don't agree," Qilby stated, "I'll not only lose the Eliacube, but risk you throwing me back into the White Dimension."

"Yeah, that might happen," Hades admitted. "Workplace hazards, y'know? You're already one of the gang. I just need it official that if you get sick of the arrangement, you're not gonna use that scythe of yours on the boss. That's what breaks the deal. You hurt Maleficent or anyone she named part of the inner circle, you lose the arm, and believe me, pal, that's gonna be the least of your problems."

Qilby thought it over. Hades and Tyrian were volatile; he could only assume that whoever sent them was much more so. But that was all the more reason to take the deal. If he refused, there was no telling what punishment he would receive for not entering the agreement at all. And considering his own strength, he realized he knew exactly how much Hades was not to be taken lightly; Tyrian could be overpowered, but not Hades, and certainly not anyone who ordered Hades around. Besides, the perks of the deal were enticing. Not only the powers, but the thought of working with a whole new organization, one in which Qilby would never have to be alone again. They would not be his people, but they would be of like minds, if these two were any indication.

And yet…if things did go sour, there had to be a way to turn the deal back around on Hades. Just as Qilby had done with Rushu. There was always a way to use the weight of the strong against them, and Qilby took comfort in this fact as a failsafe.

"You in?" Hades urged. "Gotta take off the cube first, Qilbs."

Qilby tried not to look too overly eager as he did so, dismembering his own left arm until it took cube form, handing it to Tyrian, regaining his beige skin tone and brown hair.

Hades extended his right hand. "Seal the deal?"  
Qilby reached out with his remaining hand and clutched it. "We have an agreement."

As the clasped hands pumped, bright blue light emitted from the joining. Qilby's entire skin took on its pallor once more, black markings reappearing. A new left arm appeared at his side, joined to where the previous one had been: like the Eliacube arm, it appeared to be made of light, but instead of sea green, its aura was pale blue. Qilby flexed the fingers, tested the elbow joint. It acted exactly like an arm should.

"Impressive," he complimented.

"Now you're ready to go," Hades assured him. "Which should come in handy when the Mozen-brat shows up. Do we need to run the choreography for that again, or…?"

"I know my part," Qilby insisted. "As I am sure you both know yours."

"Then why don't we get this machine up and running?" Tyrian asked, holding up the Eliacube.

Qilby could see no reason why not. Hades simply gave him an "All you, Scorpion Boy."

Gleefully, Tyrian placed the cube in the central mechanism of the clock. The workings sprang to life, with metal instruments circling the cube, giving to and taking from it.

Outside, clamps affixed themselves to the wall, around the edges of where the sharp-eyed would see the keyhole.

And the wicked work began.

...

A/N: A note on Xerxes' journey: that is in fact the world of Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events. It's based on the Netflixverse, and takes place sometime during "The Miserable Mill." "Ainsley Orlando" is my fanon name for the Henchperson of Indeterminate Gender. I did fill in some gaps from the bookverse; Ellington Feint is a bookverse-exclusive character from the "All the Wrong Questions" prequels. I have written some ASOUE stuff in the past and am planning on writing some ASOUE stuff in the future, which is all signified by my referring to the Henchperson as "Ainsley," but this fic is NOT connected to anything else ASOUE that I have written and is a separate canon, shared name aside.


	44. Time Is Up

44\. Time Runs Out

After Vexen, Ravess, Xayide, Neo, Firefly, Irmaplotz, and Snipe had filed through the Corridor of Darkness and into the control room of the warship, Vexen dismissed the Corridor. His mind was on what Firefly had said about the ship's defense systems trying to destroy Firefly, and he was on the verge of ordering the others to be careful while he went to investigate the problem.

The problem came right to him in the form of the interior guns swiveling to point at the seven and a voice booming out over the PA system: "HALT, INTRUSIONERS! TAKE ONE MORE STEP AND BE NEUTRONALIZED!"

"Okay, what?" Irmaplotz said in disbelief.

"It seems that the reason for the malfunction," Xayide observed, "is that while we were away, someone else infiltrated our base."

"Not possible!" Vexen barked.

"I don't remember you leaving anybody behind to make sure the base didn't get taken over," Firefly pointed out.

"This base has NOT been taken over!" Vexen argued.

The voice announced, "I HAVE TAKEN OVER YOUR BASE!"

"Wanna rethink that?" Firefly asked Vexen. "And you didn't even set any security measures, either."

"YOU!" Vexen yelled out. "INFILTRATOR! SHOW YOURSELF!"

"AS YOU WISH!" the voice sounded. "BEHOLDEN MY PRODIGIOSITY!"

"Ugghhh…" Ravess nestled her forehead in her hand.

A young man, perhaps in his thirties, strode into the control room; a long black leather trenchcoat sporting a high collar billowed behind him. With brown skin and darker hair sporting a single lock of blue, he seemed to bear a palette of mostly light blue beneath the coat; a belt holding flasks of potions in variegated colors was visible at his waist. "I am Zevon!" the man announced. "Interdimensionate traveler, apothecarium of potions, and conquester of this ship!"

"How did you even FIND this ship?" Vexen said incredulously. "We are floating in the middle of interspace, a great distance away from any world of note!"

"You also happen to be equaldistant from three of the worlds I was visiting on my way to put a new conquerest scheme into motion," Zevon explained. "It was by chance that my gummi ship landed here. So I decided to look around once I realized I was…well, that's not important. What IS important is that I – "

"Don't tell me," Ravess sighed. "You were on your way from one world to another, perhaps on the run, when you literally crashed into our base, and now your ship is unfit to fly."

"I SAID IT WASN'T IMPORTANT!" Zevon bellowed. "What IS important is how well-stocked this ship is! Its laboratory! Its weaponry! I knew I had found an evil lair, and its occupationants weren't home. So I took it over. I reprogrammized all the weapons to target any intrusioners, and I nearly caught one of you earlier! Now, I finally have the chance to finish the job!"

"We aren't intruders!" Vexen insisted. "WE LIVE HERE!"

"Then explain why you left it unguarded, for anyone to walk in," Zevon challenged.

"Yeah, Iceman," Firefly egged on. "You wanna explain that one?"

"I didn't see any of you VOLUNTEERING to stay behind!" Vexen raged.

"Alas," Zevon said dramatically, "our time together must come to an end. For I must now destructize you and complete my takeover of your old domicility!" He reached for his belt, removing a flask of bright aqua liquid. As he tossed it toward the seven, he yelled, "KA-POW!"

Xayide snapped her fingers, and the flask exploded in midflight, spilling harmlessly over the control room floor in a glittering of shards.

"I see you have magic!" Zevon observed. "Well, that's too bad for you, because I have control over all of your weapons!"

"And how do you intend to activate them from where you stand?" Vexen challenged.

"I…uh…" Zevon stared at Vexen for a full half minute before turning to bolt for the panel where he'd directed the course of the guns.

Vexen flicked his wrist, and Zevon became encased in ice up to the neck. "The joke is on you!" Zevon laughed. "I have a potion in my belt that will melt this ice immediatively!"

"And how do you intend to reach it, with most of your body frozen?" Vexen asked.

Zevon grit his teeth and refused to say another word.

"Should we crush him?" Snipe asked; Neo clapped her hands and bounced up and down with glee at the thought.

"NO!" Zevon yelled. "NO CRUSHING!"

"I say we at least keep him around for the others to look at and make a ruling on," Xayide suggested. "I do wonder exactly what connections he has across the worlds, and how far his potionmaking prowess extends. Perhaps he could be of use to us."

"I cannot conceive of how a person who lacks the ability to pronounce basic words can be in any way useful," Vexen complained.

"I DO NOT MISPRONUNCIATE WORDS!" Zevon argued.

"But all the same," Vexen went on, "our superiors will likely feel that we have robbed them of a certain degree of fun if we execute this invader without their supervision. Snipe, set down that crystal – GENTLY – and take our new houseguest to the most secure prison cells. Then leave him there. With the door LOCKED, I must add."

Snipe flat-out dropped the crystal – thankfully, it was solid enough not to even suffer a single crack – and hoisted up the Zevon iceberg. "You got it!" he replied.

"PUT ME DOWN AT ONCE!" Zevon ranted as Snipe carried him out of the room. "I WILL NOT STAND FOR SUFFERING THIS LEVEL OF INDIGNIFICATION!"

"As far as invasions go," Vexen declared, "this could have been MUCH worse."

"I am inclined to agree," Ravess stated.

"You do know this is your fault, right?" Firefly challenged.

"Not," Vexen seethed through clenched teeth, "another…word."

...

Keith, Shiro, Jaune, Cadance, Coran, and Carpet paced back and forth outside what served as a medical tent where an experienced Balmeran healer looked over Lance and Vida. They'd all attempted to hover within the tent and oversee their injured friends, but were shooed away.

"They're gonna be okay, right?" Jaune worried out loud.

"If I know Lance," Shiro assured him, "he's going to pull through."

"He always does," Keith said with a smirk. "Whether you want him to or not."

"And I may not know your friend well," Shiro went on, "but she's tough. She'll make it too."

Cadance nodded. "I believe it."

Coran glanced out over the horizon, to where the teams had entered the tunnels in the first place. "I do believe the other contingent has come back!" he announced. "Wait…only two of them? It's Shay, and the young redhead."

"Huh?" Jaune, Cadance, and Carpet all looked out to where Coran had indicated. It didn't take them long to realize that Shay was supporting an injured Chip.

"CHIP!" Jaune and Cadance cried; they and Carpet barreled toward the duo.

"Ohmygosh," Jaune babbled, "ohmygosh, ohmygosh. What happened? Are you okay?"

"He will be," Shay explained.

"We ran into trouble down there," Chip added. "It's probably better if Kairi explains it."

"Let's get you to the medical tent," Cadance urged, turning to walk alongside Chip and Shay.

"Where IS Kairi?" Jaune asked. "And the others?"

"They are behind," Shay answered. "They should be coming up soon."

"I'm gonna go ahead and see if I can find them," Jaune stated.

Cadance nodded. "I'll help Chip get settled."

Jaune rushed down into the tunnel entrance, where he all but ran into Allura; Kairi and Hunk were close behind her, with Pidge, Madison, and Genie flanking the wagon bearing the crystal. "You found a crystal!" was Jaune's first response. "All RIGHT! But…" He cast his gaze around the group, noting their somber expressions, their lack of the person they'd come for. "What about Even? Did you find him? Did something happen down there? Chip said you ran into some kind of trouble, and…oh, no…" His eyes widened.

"I think I know what you're thinking," Hunk told him, "and…no. The guy's not dead."

"Phew." Jaune wiped his brow. "Then I'm guessing you didn't find him. It's okay. We'll go back down into the tunnels and – "

"Jaune," Kairi interrupted, raising her gaze to meet his. "Even WAS the trouble."

"He…was the trouble?" Jaune repeated. "But…Maleficent – "

"Never took him," Kairi said, gritting her teeth to stem her still-shaken sadness. "He left."

"He LEFT?"

"To join Mozenrath," Kairi went on. "He was working with three other people. They almost cut us all down. One of them shot Chip, and the rest of them tried to kill us. Even froze me to bring me back to Mozenrath." She quivered; she couldn't hold it back. "All this time, I trusted him and I missed him, when I should never have been looking for him in the first place. I should have known that when he was evil…that's what he really was all along!" She blinked rapidly to deflect the tears that had sprung up.

"WHAT?" Jaune spat. "That's…he can't get AWAY with that! I'm not gonna let him get away with breaking your trust that easy!"

"I would not recommend going after him," Allura stated. "We were only just able to face four of them with all of us present, Genie included."

"And we all know there are more than four," Madison added.

Jaune fell into step alongside the group as they wheeled the wagon toward the tent. "But it's just not…it isn't…he broke our TRUST."

"In the end, our safety is more important than anything," Allura emphasized. "Part of waging war is knowing when not to attack. Keith might say otherwise, but there is a reason we don't simply launch a full-scale assault on the Galra home base."

Jaune sighed. "You're right. I just…he shouldn't have hurt Kairi that way!"

"He shouldn't," Madison agreed.

"And does he ever need to chill out!" Genie added.

"Okay, how long were you sitting on that pun?" Pidge teased.

"Are you gonna be okay?" Jaune asked Kairi.

"Yeah," Kairi said softly. "I'll be fine."

"Here!" Genie broke in. "Watch closely! Nothing up my sleeve…" He made a show of bringing a blue suit jacket into appearance on his body, rolling up the sleeves. "OR IS THERE?" He then quickly pulled a long string of multicolored handkerchiefs from the left sleeve, handing them over to Kairi. "Use these."

Kairi dabbed at her eyes with a red handkerchief. "I'm fine," she said. "Really." Then, more softly, "He said I was never going to make it as a Keybearer, though. Because I'm soft and weak."

"You don't believe that, do you?" Jaune asked. "It's a lie! You're going to be a GREAT Keybearer BECAUSE you're so nice to everybody! You're what's holding our team together right now! Well, okay, we all get along pretty good on our own, but right now, you're our team leader, and you're making it work! Look, you managed to get the crystal we needed, and the rest of us didn't! And I bet your half of the team didn't waste any time fighting over trust."

"You got in a fight?" Kairi reiterated.

"Yeah, a little bit," Jaune told her. "Mostly between me and Keith. But we're good now. Besides, we had bigger problems."

"What are bigger problems?"

"While you were dealing with Mozenrath's team," Jaune explained, "the rest of us were tangling with Mirage. One of Mirage's new buddies, actually. Some Galra guy named Sendak – "

"THAT guy?" Hunk blurted.

"But it isn't possible," Allura babbled. "He was jettisoned a great distance from here. He shouldn't have simply been able to show up on the Balmera!"

"We're betting Mirage had everything to do with it," Jaune stated. "They even brought back the cats."

"I'm glad you're okay," Kairi told Jaune, momentarily reaching for his hand and lightly brushing it before she realized the gesture would probably be too invasive and withdrawing her arm, hoping he hadn't noticed.

But he had. "I'm…glad you made it out of that battle without getting hurt," he told her. "You know…in the physical sense." He dared, reaching out for her hand that had reached for his, gently tapping her palm with his fingertips in the form of a wordless question.

She slipped her fingers through his, squeezing his hand gently, and he returned the gesture.

They caught up to Shiro, Keith, Coran, Cadance, and Carpet, who were already trading stories with Shay. "They were extremely powerful," Shay was explaining, "and they used what I can only describe as magic."

Cadance nodded knowingly. "That does sound like our enemies." She turned back to the others who had arrived. "I hear you had some trouble down in…" She blinked, did a double take, looking at Jaune and Kairi's interwoven hands.

Jaune and Kairi, flustered, immediately removed their hands from each other.

Cadance gave them a knowing smile anyway. "Down in the tunnels," she finished.

"We heard you had some problems of your own," Kairi replied.

"Is it trading stories time?" Hunk asked. "I think it's trading stories time."

"You first," Shiro encouraged.

"No, by all means," Allura replied, "YOU go first."

"No, I insist," Shiro said, putting up his hands. "You."

"No, you!"

"Tell your story first."

"NO. YOU tell YOURS first."

"Uh, guys?" Hunk broke in. "Maybe we could flip a coin or somethi – "

"WE'LL go first," Keith decided.

"That works too," Hunk relented.

The teams traded off relating the incidents that had befallen them belowground: first Keith and Jaune's team, then Allura and Kairi's. At one point, as Allura described the threats they had faced, Jaune interrupted with a "Wait. You said she had three-colored hair?"

"Why, yes," Allura reiterated. "Pink, brown, and white."

"And she was short," Jaune added.

"I don't remember saying that," Allura realized.

"You didn't," Jaune told her. "Someone else did. I think that was Neo. Roman Torchwick's sidekick. I never met her, but my friends did. She's tough."

"Nothing we couldn't handle!" Genie boasted.

The stories went on.

"From the sounds of it," Cadance observed, "we're all just lucky Maleficent didn't decide to join the party."

"Don't even joke," Jaune warned.

Lance, Chip, and Vida stepped out of the tent together, sporting new bandages. "Would ya look at this!" Lance crowed. "Your resident sharpshooter, good as new!"

"Right," Keith teased. "Because that bandage totally tells me you're ready for action."

"Hey!" Lance snapped. "Your ATTITUDE tells ME that YOU'RE ready to go be a loser!"

Pidge shot Hunk a last look as though to ask if he was absolutely sure that the people he'd mentioned in his confession weren't related to anybody they knew. Hunk, reading Pidge's glare perfectly, just shrugged.

"I wouldn't say good as new," Vida stated, "but I think Chip and I are ready to go."

"Thanks, everyone!" Chip called back into the tent.

"Speaking of being ready to go," Jaune suggested, "now that we have our crystal, and we…well, we know where Even is – "

"Vexen," Kairi broke in.

"Huh?" Jaune replied.

"He took the name 'Vexen' back on," Kairi sighed. "I guess it's fitting."

"Right," Jaune said with a nod. "We got what we came for. I guess we should probably go back."

"And we have work to do with the Voltron Coalition," Keith agreed.

"It just seems like we all already became such good friends," Kairi lamented. "And we already have to split up."

"I agree," Cadance voiced.

"I'm certain we'll cross paths again," Allura promised.

"Maybe we'll figure out a way to get to your place," Lance suggested. "We've already seen a comet that could cross realities. There's gotta be something like that for you."

"What's that mean?" Pidge asked.

"We'll explain later," Shiro promised.

"And we can definitely come back to find you," Kairi added. "We could help you take back what the Galra conquered."

"And we'd totally help you with your Mozenrath problem if we didn't have that on our plate," Hunk replied.

"Thank you all for helping us out here," Kairi said earnestly. "It sounds like if we didn't meet you, we'd all be in real trouble."

"The feeling is reciprocal!" Coran assured her.

Keith stepped forward. "Thanks," he said sincerely, offering his right hand.

Kairi clutched it in her own; they shook once, firmly. "Thank YOU."

...

As the Gummi ship containing Kairi, Jaune, Chip, Vida, Madison, Cadance, Genie, and Carpet blasted away from the Balmera, Chip wondered out loud, "You really think we'll see them again?"

"We'll just have to make it happen," Kairi replied, smiling as she steered the ship.

Jaune gingerly approached the control panel. "You seem better," he brought up.

"I am," Kairi informed him. "It's still a shock, but I'm getting over it. Having good friends around really helps."

"Good," Jaune said. "I'm glad. I just…I really wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine," Kairi assured. "But thank you."

"All right," Vida suggested, "everybody remember the lyrics from the way in?"

Genie materialized a bright blue guitar into his hands, which he proceeded to use to play a complex riff. "I am READY TO ROCK!"

"ONE-TWO-THREE-FOUR!" Vida counted in.

The ship became alive with singing as it exited Galra Space.

...

The Euripedes Auditorium prop room was chaos at its pinnacle. Objects of all manner, old and new, from every show the theater had ever produced lay haphazardly about on a multitude of shelves and tables as well as simply the floor. It was the perfect place to hide something you didn't want to be obviously found, and perhaps that was the intent all along.

Ellington had been given very specific directions to exactly what she was looking for. Find the prop, find the message, take it down, follow its instructions, and leave the prop where she had discovered it so as not to arouse suspicion. She stepped gingerly into the room, tilting her foot so as not to land on a replica candelabra. Avoiding an obstacle course of abandoned props, she tiptoed her way through the room, finding at last a stack of books on a table in the middle of the room. The third one down was a copy of Marlowe's "The Tragical History of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus," as promised. Ellington pried open the cover, withdrawing from a pocket her small black notepad and pen, hoping all the while that the message wouldn't take her too deeply into the book, as she was short on time.

Committing the original to memory had been the most difficult part of the escapade, but a necessary one for the breaking of the code. How else was Ellington to notice the words that had been substituted in for others, marking this edition of the play as far different from any other? It was a ciphered book; every substituted word was jotted down, and they began to take shape as a coherent message once entered in order into Ellington's notepad.

Ellington was disturbed momentarily by the sound of something clanking through the ventilation duct behind her and then plopping softly onto the carpet of the prop room: the star shard. She turned to see the source of the noise. The pile of props sufficiently covered the shard up, and she could not discern what had fallen. Shrugging it off, she returned to work.

The gait of her pursuer informed her she was not alone; Ainsley was not well-trained in stealth. "Can you put that down?" they asked from the prop room door. "Please?"

That wasn't what Ellington had expected at all. Normally, those who wished to hinder her workings didn't phrase it as a polite question. "No," she answered. "I can't. Now go away."

"Sorry," Ainsley said as they entered the room, "but I'm gonna have to take that – " They reached out to swipe the book from Ellington.

"NO." She drew it close to her chest, backing up several steps. "Who are you? How did you know about the book?"

"Listen," Ainsley sighed, "I really wouldn't care that much about what you do with that, except my boss really wouldn't want me to let you finish decoding it. He's kind of high up in the structure of the anti-V.F.D. movement."

"If you want me to stop decoding this book," Ellington taunted, "you're going to have to take it from me."

Ainsley shrugged; "Okay, I guess." They reached out for it once more, and Ellington could tell from their posture that they weren't braced for a full fight.

She kneed them in the side of the stomach, causing them to stagger. Her leg then dipped down to catch their ankle, spilling Ainsley forward onto the floor, where a multitude of awkwardly shaped props impacted in a way that would leave an array of colorful bruises across Ainsley's front side. Ellington used this advantage to quickly step in between Ainsley and the entry door. Her eyes flicked up, and she took note of a broom closet on the other side of the prop room: opportunity.

"Whoever you work for," she told them, "he can't be that powerful if you're the best he can send."

Ellington waited as Ainsley laboriously stood up. "I've never thought physical combat skill was an appropriate way to solve disputes," they informed her once they'd turned around to face her. "Usually, there's a way to reach a compromise that involves communication or – "

She rammed her shoulder into their chest, forcing them backward, closer to the closet door.

"I really didn't want to do this," Ainsley sputtered, "but I kind of have to, so…sorry?" They threw a halfhearted punch.

Ellington caught their fist in the hand not holding the book, stunned that there hadn't been much force behind it at all. "You aren't even serious, are you?" she said in shock.

"I usually don't have to do this kind of thing on my own," Ainsley admitted.

"It shows," Ellington grunted before slamming into Ainsley again, sending them reeling backward into the closet, just as she'd wanted.

Xerxes came barreling down the ventilation shaft with a cry of desperation, searching the room with his eyes in order to locate his star shard. It had become utterly lost among the mess of props, and not even a glimmer was visible.

"Perfect," Ellington muttered, quickly rushing to grasp Xerxes by the tail.

By the time Ainsley had gotten their bearings, Ellington was preparing the cherry on top; she twirled Xerxes like a lasso once, twice, three times before letting him sail into the closet right along with Ainsley. Upon the reappearance of the snakelike creature, Ainsley shrieked, pressing up against a side wall.

Ellington dashed to the closet and slammed the door, pressing the weight of her body against it. She could feel Ainsley trying to shove their way out from the other side, and strained to hook her leg around the bottom of one of the nearby sets of shelves, edging it ever closer to the door. At last, she was in a position to slide the shelf in front of the door, wedging it closed with too heavy of an object for Ainsley to displace. Then, with Ainsley's screaming and knocking on the door as background noise, she returned to her place in the book, hurrying to take down its hidden instructions. When she was confident she'd come to the end of the message, she replaced the book on the table, slid the notepad into her pocket, and returned upstairs to complete her audition.

Ainsley finally realized that the door to the closet had been blocked off by something heavier than they could move, and they were trapped in a tiny enclosed space with a tiny but fearsome creature. They sat on the floor, hugging their knees to try and become as small as possible – a difficult feat, given their height of over six feet – in order to get as much distance from Xerxes as possible while lightly hyperventilating.

Xerxes rapped on the door hard with his tail. "LET OUT!" he yelled. "LET OUT!" When he realized Ellington had absolutely no intention of doing so, he sighed, drooping in midair. "Trapped."

"You can talk," Ainsley said breathily.

"Yes," Xerxes replied as though it should have been obvious.

"Are you just one of those mimic snakes, or…?"  
"No mimic," Xerxes confirmed. "Can talk. Can talk about anything. You not know?"

"Snakes don't usually talk."

"Ford not snake," Xerxes explained. "Ford eel."

"That's your name?" Ainsley found themselves calming a bit; perhaps it helped that in the darkness of the closet, they couldn't very well see what they were talking to. "Ford?"

"Well, was Xerxes. But Ford now." Xerxes paused, wondering whether it made any sense at all to begin conversation with his co-prisoner. The problem was that there simply wasn't much else to do. "Your name?"

Ainsley very nearly said their actual name. "It's…Landry." They had no way of knowing if this thing could be trusted or not. Snakes tended to be largely untrustworthy due to their history with V.F.D. Eel, on the other hand, had no affiliation as far as Ainsley could remember. "So…" Their breathing was regulating. "What are you doing here? Were you auditioning, too?"

"Ford no audition," Xerxes answered. "Ford brought here by accident. Ford missing important crystal. Crystal out there! Ford stuck in here."

"I totally sympathize with that," Ainsley said sincerely.

"You audition?" Xerxes asked.

"I was," Ainsley confirmed. "Then I got caught up following that woman because she's part of an organization my boss hates, even though he used to be part of the same organization. There was some kind of schism. I was actually just trying to have a normal day without having to get into any trouble, but I know my boss totally would have found out if I let her go and I would have been in big trouble. Actually, I never stopped her from doing whatever secret business she was doing, so I'm still in big trouble anyway."

"Ford get it," Xerxes sighed. "Ford usually in big trouble with his boss. Boss very angry about everything. Ford like him anyway. Ford miss him."

"My boss is angry about everything too," Ainsley explained. "We're not really the best of friends, but he's one of the only people I know of who actually gets me. Him and the other people I work with. I don't really conform to a lot of societal norms, and they're more okay with that than your average person on the street. They're also theater people, which is probably why they're okay with me."

"Ford boss kind of a theater person," Xerxes mused. "Boss' friends always singing and dancing. Sometimes get him to sing and dance too. Usually takes coffee."

"I could go for a cup of coffee right now," Ainsley mourned.

"Ford too," Xerxes moaned.

They realized that perhaps, fate had brought them together for a reason; they seemed to have a lot in common. They passed their time in the closet by continuing to converse.

...

Moana felt herself levitated off the boat and carried a short distance before Grimhilde propped her up against a stone wall. In order to continue the charade of being unconscious, she made sure to slump to the side; she immediately hit the side and shoulder of someone else leaning against the same wall.

"Nice job, old woman," the Dark Ace congratulated as Grimhilde settled her new prize in next to Xander. Xander flinched, afraid that the girl Grimhilde had brought in was already dead.

"It's always compassion that does them in!" Grimhilde cackled. "They never suspect that stopping to help a poor old lady will be what seals their doom! You would think she was one of the seven with a soft heart like hers!"

"Trust weakens fools like her," the Dark Ace said with a grin, recalling when Lightning Strike had put trust in him.

Xander didn't know whether or not Moana could hear him – he guessed not – but all the same, he positioned his mouth close to her ear, whispering gently, "I am so sorry."

She very nearly started, almost giving away her wakefulness; this must have been Xander!

"I suppose you will want to begin the ritual without delay," the Dark Ace suggested.

"At once," Grimhilde confirmed.

Xander saw this as his last chance. "I still think we can talk about this," he sputtered. If nothing else, perhaps he could stall until a miracle happened. "This is not a healthy way to deal with your inferiority complex about your looks at all. If you just wanted to, y'know, vent it out, I'm here to listen, but – "

"ENOUGH!" Grimhilde barked. "You will be SILENT! That will be the last time you ever try to charm me into not harming you!"

Her hands, bent and clawlike, reached forward, ready to plunge into both Moana and Xander's chests at the same time.

Moana's eyes snapped open.

Grimhilde, realizing she'd played the fool, flinched.

As Moana stood, Grimhilde had enough time to yell "WHAT?" before Moana shoved her back hard enough to cause her to fall.

"You think I'M a fool for trusting you?" Moana yelled, noting that her mouth was still somewhat numb from holding the apple's poison. "Next time, when you try and poison someone…" She folded her arms, looking triumphantly down at Grimhilde. "Make sure it actually worked."

"CURSE YOU!" Grimhilde growled.

"Don't worry." The Dark Ace grinned as he drew and lit up his sword. "This is but a momentary delay."

Moana stumbled back at the sight of the sword. It was obvious to her that this was the power of fire in the form of a blade, and she had no idea how to defend herself from it. Worse, Grimhilde was getting back to her feet, and the old woman was laughing.

"You're in over your head, dear!" Grimhilde cried as her hands crackled with electricity.

Moana put up both hands in front of her face, not knowing what else to do.

Grimhilde let a bolt of lightning surge forth from her hands with a resounding CRACK.

And the lightning struck a deep blue deflection shield that surrounded Moana and Xander.

"WHAT?" Grimhilde screeched.

"What, did you think we were just gonna give up?" Aladdin's voice sounded from the entrance to the cavern that Grimhilde and the Dark Ace called their lair.

Grimhilde, the Dark Ace, Moana, and Xander turned to see Riku, Aladdin, Luna, Nora, Ren, and Nick gathered in the entryway; Moana and Xander lit up at the sight of their allies' intrusion.

"Your persistence will be your undoing!" the Dark Ace growled, twirling his sword and charging.

"No," Riku replied, stepping forth casually. "It'll be yours." With a yell, he launched into a Dark Splicer, zipping back and forth around the Dark Ace, sword extended. The Dark Ace barely had enough time to reposition his sword to deflect each oncoming rush. It didn't occur to him this could be merely a diversion until…

"HEADS UP!"

The Dark Ace glanced upward to see Nora descending upon him with Magnhild in hand. Then he saw stars.

"I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU!" Grimhilde yelled as she hurled dual fireballs at the remaining four.

Luna removed her deflection shield from Moana and Xander, repositioning it to hold the fire at bay. "GO!" she urged.

Nick rushed Xander, sword in hand, and slashed through his bonds. Xander stood to full height, smiling broadly.

"So you must be Xander," Moana stated.

"Lucky guess," Xander replied teasingly. "Who're you?"

"I am Moana of Motonui. Pleased to meet you!"

"There's no time!" Ren waved them on. "Let's get out of here!"

Nick and Xander looked at each other, then to Grimhilde's back. As one, they charged, and Moana followed, guessing at what they were about to do. All three shoved Grimhilde over, disrupting her barrage of magical attacks just long enough to get to Luna. Riku and Nora were already on their way back.

"Quickly!" Luna opened a Corridor of Darkness. "To Radiant Garden!"

"What is that?" Moana asked, suddenly apprehensive.

"Just get in it!" Nick barked.

Ren and Aladdin turned and bolted into the Corridor; Riku and Nora were next after them. "I DON'T KNOW ABOUT THIS!" Moana yelled as she barreled in alongside Nick and Xander. Luna was the final inside, galloping into the space between worlds, attempting to close the portal behind her.

"If you could hold their portal open to follow them," Nick called back to Luna, "can't they hold yours open to follow us?"

"Yes!" Luna emphasized. "That is why we must get to Radiant Garden quickly!"

Grimhilde, from her position lying on the hard cavern floor, threw up a hand, stopping the closing portal from shrinking. It began to grow once more. Grimhilde pried herself to her feet, and the Dark Ace regained his bearings, pressing his hand to his head woozily. "AFTER THEM!" Grimhilde screeched.

The eight heroes emerged in the atrium of the Radiant Garden castle. "WHERE IS THIS?" Moana shrieked. "WHERE DID WE GO?"

"No time to explain!" Riku yelled to her. "We have to get the others! All together, we have our enemies overpowered!"

No sooner had he said that than Aerith came into the atrium from the upper door, looking down over the snake-shaped fountain to see Riku and company appear. "Riku!" she cried. "Where were you? Where were ALL of you? We were worried – "

"You still have to be worried!" Riku yelled as he charged up the stairs. "They're after us!"

"Only two of them!" Nick added. "We should be able to take them!"

Riku had his hand on the doors to the lifts when Aerith pointed at the library doors instead. "Ienzo, Merlin, and Leon!" she identified. "I'll sound the alarm for the others!" She bolted through the doors Riku had been about to open; the others changed trajectory to head for the library.

"I AM STILL VERY CONFUSED!" Moana reminded everyone.

Inside the library, Ienzo was the first to hear the slamming open of the door and the horde of feet entering. He looked up from his book, miffed, to begin to say, "I don't care what news you have of Riku and the others; this is still a lib – "

He was cut off when he saw who was actually rushing into the room. "They're after us!" Xander yelled.

At about this time, an alarm began to sound through the whole castle, activated by Aerith.

Merlin and Leon rushed to the library railing from above, looking down into the lower library level. "Who's after you?" Merlin asked.

"They want Xander and Moana!" Riku explained.

"Who's Moana?" Leon asked.

"That's me!" Moana yelled. "WHO ARE ALL OF YOU?"

"No need to go any further!" Merlin decided.

Grimhilde and the Dark Ace had arrived in the atrium, the Corridor finally closed behind them, just in time to see the last of the group disappearing through the library doors. "Got 'em!" Grimhilde laughed.

"They think they can run," the Dark Ace chuckled.

The pair burst through the door only to be faced with Merlin pointing his wand directly at them. "NOT SO FAST, MISSY!" Merlin snapped at Grimhilde.

"MERLIN!" Grimhilde gasped; the wizard was not unfamiliar to her.

Behind Merlin, Leon raised his sword, Ienzo held open a spellbook with one hand glowing, Riku positioned his sword at the ready, Nick twirled his own sword, Xander flourished his axe, Nora held Magnhild high, Ren braced himself with Stormflower, Luna's horn glowed, and Moana struck a defensive pose.

The doors behind Grimhilde and the Dark Ace crashed open to reveal a chakram-bearing Lea, an axe-sword-wielding Aeleus, a lance-twirling Dilan, a shuriken-loaded Yuffie, a spear-bearing Cid, Sadira with a cyclone of sand whirling about her lower half, and Aerith with spheres of white energy lighting up the palms of both hands.

Grimhilde could do the math. "We're retreating!" she grumbled as she summoned a new Corridor for herself and the Dark Ace, stumbling through as quickly as possible.

"Don't think you've seen the last of us!" the Dark Ace called out before charging after her.

As the Corridor closed, Aerith huffed, "And DON'T come back!"

"They're going to try," Leon said as he lowered his sword.

"Well, then, we simply can't let them!" Merlin insisted. "Ienzo! Aerith! We need to put up fortifications around this castle! Make it so that no one can use a Corridor to get in or out! And no teleporting! Anyone who wants in will just have to use the door like everyone else!"

"Right away!" Aerith affirmed; Ienzo gave a nod, and the trio hurried away to begin preparations.

"Okay," Moana said, breathing quickening. "Okay. Now that no one is chasing us, DOES ANYONE WANT TO EXPLAIN TO ME WHERE WE ARE?"

"You brought someone from another world?" Dilan spat. "You shouldn't have done that!"

"Chill out!" Yuffie told him. "She was in trouble!"

"If you have such a problem with people from other worlds," Sadira added, "do you have a problem with ME being here?"

"You already knew of our existence!" Dilan sputtered. "SHE obviously did not!"

"Everyone finds out sometime," Lea stated.

"Another…world," Moana repeated, eyes wide. "This is another world. That…actually makes so much sense! Why you didn't know the stars! You're all from this other world!"

"Actually," Nora corrected, "MOST of us are from this world. Ren and I are from another one called Remnant, Nick and Xander are from another one entirely with a town called Briarwood, Riku is from ANOTHER one called the Destiny Islands, Luna is from ANOTHER one called Equestria, and Sadira is from Agrabah, which is, guess what, on ANOTHER world."

"So this place," Moana realized, "this place…is a gathering place for people from all worlds. To be safe from people like that."

Riku nodded. "And to try and stop people like that. They came from other worlds too. If the worst of the worlds are going to come together to do their evil, then those of us with good in our hearts have to do the same thing to stop them."

"Plus, it's more fun when we all work together!" Yuffie insisted.

"I think it's time you told us where you went," Leon informed Riku. "The hourglass is still under construction, and Kairi hasn't come back with the crystal, so we had no way to even start looking for all of you. We just had to trust that because it was you, you would be safe."

"You're not going to believe this," Xander began, "but this all started because I'm too good-looking."

"Before we begin," Luna interrupted, "I think it is perhaps time to return Moana to her own world and hometown. She has had quite an adventure."

"Go home?" Moana repeated. "Now? But I just got here! I JUST learned about all your other worlds! There's so much going on here that I need to know about!" She turned to Riku. "You know what it's like! Looking out at where the sky meets the sea, wanting to know how much more is out there! I'm only now finding out it's so much more than I ever DREAMED! I just want to stay a little bit longer. Long enough to learn about you and what you're really doing. Please?"

Riku smiled at her, then gave a nod. "All right. I think it's okay for you to stay for just a little while. But if you don't go back eventually, your dad's going to get pretty worried."

"So how about the real reason you were all gone so long?" Leon pressed, smirking.

"Xander told you," Nora said with a shrug. "He's just too good-looking."

The group shared a laugh before relating the tale.

...

Tyrian paced back and forth at the base of the clock. All of the steps of the plan were in place. His trip around the world with Qilby and Hades had resulted in the successful planting of the devices that needed to be planted. And he had known that simply dropping a hint to Mozenrath's face would have made Mozenrath and his cohorts suspicious of a trap, but Sora and his friends were far more gullible. By now, Tyrian thought, they would have spread the world all over the world that the big, bad Qilby was draining the world's Wakfu through the Keyhole near the Tree of Life, ensuring Mozenrath would hear it from a much more reliable source. It was now a matter of which team would show up first: Sora's or Mozenrath's. Sora and his friends had just become disposable; they had served their purpose. But Tyrian somehow had a feeling that Mozenrath would appear first. Then he could put the final phase of his plan into motion, and there was no way Maleficent could fault him once she learned what he had done. The fact that his plot was about to leave the entire World of Twelve a dried husk full of corpses would certainly earn him brownie points as well.

The waiting was nearly killing him. His better sense told him to wait inside the clock, but he wanted to be there when they showed up. He wanted to greet them. He wanted to see their last moments of blissful ignorance while they still thought they had the upper hand.

He couldn't have done it without Hades and Qilby, he realized. Hades, for telling him about the heart of the world and what could be done with it, as well as providing some crucial intelligence about the patterns of Mozenrath and his companions. Qilby, for showing him the inner workings of the World of Twelve, explaining the clock and what Noximilien had used it for, and providing the devices. He would have to bring them to Salem's attention, he realized, the same way he had brought himself to Maleficent's. It seemed the two factions had a lot to offer each other.

Tyrian tilted his head back toward the roof of the cavern. What was going on outside? Had any of them arrived yet?

The answer was yes.

Pandiego and Jasmine marched at the head of a troop of Pandawas outfitted with crude weapons, all headed for the Sadida kingdom's gates. "Let me walk out front," Jasmine had insisted. "They might remember me as a friend of Yugo's and let us in sooner."

She was surprised when, nearing the border, another troop came into view: the citizens of Bonta, of all races, shapes, and sizes, bearing even more makeshift weapons. Yugo was at their lead; as soon as he recognized Jasmine, he waved and rushed to her.

"Yugo!" Jasmine greeted. "You're okay!"

"It's good to see you too!" Yugo said with a smile that quickly faded. "So you brought help for the attack too."

"The more people stand against Qilby," Jasmine affirmed, "the better chance we have of stopping him once and for all. They might have been able to split the seven of us up, but they can't do that to everyone here."

"It looks like someone else had the same idea," Yugo realized as he looked back over his shoulder to see the hulking machines of New Sufokia clanking toward the same destination.

Jasmine bristled. "Adal. I don't trust him with this."

"Neither do I," Yugo stated, "but I think he was her only choice." He gestured to the front lines, where Adal marched proudly alongside a glum Amalia.

Yugo and Jasmine rushed to Amalia's side; she brightened upon seeing them. "You both made it back!" she said with glee. Then, in a whisper: "I'm sorry about bringing you-know-who. But my people need help, and – "

"We understand," Yugo interrupted, and Jasmine nodded in affirmation.

Amalia was suddenly fixated on something behind the pair. "Look!" she cried out, pointing at where Sora, Ruby, and Papyrus led Melo's army.

Amalia, Yugo, and Jasmine met Sora, Ruby, and Papyrus halfway. "You're okay!" Sora cried.

"That's everyone accounted for…except one," Ruby realized.

"HE'LL PROBABLY SHOW UP IN A FEW MINUTES," Papyrus theorized.

"It looks like we all had the same idea," Yugo pointed out.

"Qilby, Hades, and that other guy don't stand a chance!" Sora said emphatically.

"Excuse me!" Adal ran up to the group. "Are you expecting me to fight alongside common PANDAWAS?"

"Yes, we are," Amalia huffed. "We're expecting you to do what you NEED to to save my home and the world! You would think this would look like an opportunity for you to build some new alliances!"

Melo approached from the other direction. "Excuse me," she said politely, "but is anyone in charge of all of this?"

"You should be, Amalia," Sora encouraged. "It's your home."

"Right!" Amalia stood tall, marching out front where everyone could see her. "ATTENTION EVERYONE!" she called out. "WE HAVE REACHED THE PLACE WHERE QILBY IS ABOUT TO BEGIN DESTROYING THE WORLD! TOGETHER, WE CAN STOP HIM! WE ARE GOING TO MAKE HIM REGRET EVER HAVING COME BACK FROM THE WHITE DIMENSION!"

A wild cheer went up from all four armies.

"FOLLOW ME!" Amalia cried. "FOR THE WORLD OF TWELVE!"

"FOR THE WORLD OF TWELVE!" the rest cried out.

Oakheart was waiting inside the gates, flanked by Armand and Stork. "AMALIA!" the king and prince cried out.

Stork simply glared wordlessly at the display before him, looking fit to kill.

"Why did you run off like that?" Armand chastised. "We didn't know what kind of danger you would be in! You need to stop doing this!"

"If I hadn't run off," Amalia emphasized, "then we wouldn't know what danger was about to befall us! As I'm sure Stork has told you, Qilby is trying to – "

She didn't notice Stork making frantic gestures for her to stop talking.

" – Drain the Wakfu of the entire world through our kingdom!" Amalia finished.

Oakheart and Armand looked at her, flabbergasted. At last, Oakheart admitted, "We knew no such thing."

"What?" Amalia was surprised. "But…"

Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, Yugo, and Jasmine all gathered around Stork. "SEE?" Papyrus pointed out. "I TOLD YOU HE WOULD SHOW UP IN A FEW MINUTES!"

"We ARE all okay!" Ruby cried with joy.

"Uh…Stork?" Sora took note of Stork's grave expression. "Is…something wrong?"

"You," Stork growled. "Brought. BACKUP."

"Were we not supposed to?" Yugo asked. "It was the only way – "

"WHY ARE WE ALL FINE?" Stork snapped.

"Because Qilby just wanted to split us up?" Yugo replied, baffled.

"And WHY did they all tell us their master plan?" Stork continued.

"BECAUSE VILLAINS TEND TO DO THAT FOR SOME REASON," Papyrus answered. "I'VE ALWAYS FOUND THAT VERY STUPID."

"It wasn't stupid this time," Stork growled. "They WANTED us to tell and bring as many people as possible. As soon as I figured out I was unharmed, ohhhh, I knew their game, and I kept my mouth shut. BUT YOU ALL DID EXACTLY WHAT THEY WANTED YOU TO! YOU'VE PLAYED RIGHT INTO THEIR HANDS!"

"Hey!" Ruby snapped. "Just because you're probably right doesn't mean you have to yell at us!" She then pouted. "Also, I'm now ninety percent sure you're right."

"Okay." Stork forced himself to breathe slowly. "I…am…calm. I…am…fine. Damage has already been done, there's no undoing it, we're obviously doomed either way…only thing we can do now is move forward and accept our fate."

"We've been more doomed before, haven't we?" Sora brought up. "After the worlds being threatened by Xehanort, what Ruby told me about Vale being brought down by Cinder, what Papyrus told me about the underground being taken hostage by Asriel, what you told me about the Cyclonians wrecking Atmos, and Jafar taking over Agrabah, this doesn't look nearly as bad!"

"That's what worries me," Stork confessed. "I don't know what it looks like. We don't really know what we're up against!"

On the other side of the kingdom, a Corridor of Darkness spat Mozenrath, the Huntsman, Yzma, Wuya, Mim, Aghoul, Roman, Snatcher, Rémington, Grany, and Ragdoll out onto green grass overshadowed by tall trees. "You have the compass," Mozenrath told Wuya. "Lead the way to this…Tree of Life."

"On the way," Wuya promised, holding out the compass and watching its needle turn toward the new objective.

They found themselves led toward the throne room, where two Cra guards stood at the entrance. "HALT!" both yelled, drawing bows.

"No thanks," Wuya told them, raising the fist that bore Ombrage.

The guards' shadows were fleetingly swept away, leaving them hunched over, eyes glassy.

The sound of running feet alerted the group to even more guards approaching. "WHO GOES THERE?" one of them yelled before the company stopped in their tracks. "Lady Ayu?" the leader said in shock.

"Maybe," Wuya replied. "Depends on who's asking."

"You shouldn't be here!" the guard insisted. "Didn't you hear? Qilby is going to drain the world's Wakfu through the sanctuary!"

"I've heard," Wuya scoffed. "Tell me something I DON'T know."

"Well, uh…you might not know that Princess Amalia and her strange friends have brought armies from across the world to stop him," the guard stated. "You should really just step back and let them do their job."

"Amalia's strange friends," Wuya repeated.

"Oh, dear," Snatcher realized. "The boy with the key."

"And Red," Roman contributed.

"And the kid with the portals," Mozenrath sighed.

"Under any other circumstances, I would look forward to seeing Princess Jasmine," Aghoul mused.

"And they're all coming here with an army?" Wuya reiterated.

"Four armies," the guard corrected.

Wuya sighed. "This could be a problem when they find us."

"Not really," Mozenrath told her. "You could just stay out here and use Ombrage to hold them off."

"And miss all the fun?" Wuya shot back. "If that's your great plan, YOU can stay out here and use Ombrage to hold them off."

"Excuse me?" the guard said in confusion.

"Actually…" a voice piped up from the back of the crowd. Rémington stepped forward as Grany stated, "Staying out here and using a Shushu to cause pandemonium sounds like our idea of a good time."

"IT'S REMINGTON SMISSE!" the guard yelled, and the company raised their bows.

Before a single arrow could be fired, Ombrage had transformed the guards into shadowless minions that gaped at their new masters. "Well, that was useful information at the very least," Wuya pointed out. She tossed Ombrage to Rémington. "From here out, it's all you."

"Just don't forget to pick us up when you're done in there," Rémington told her as all but he and Grany filed into the throne room. He then looked to Grany; "You know I've never liked merging with them. Even what this one does seems like too much."

"Then give her to me," Grany insisted.

Rémington slipped the violet ring onto his brother's tail.

"This is incredibly undignified," Ombrage complained.

"Shut up," Grany barked at her. "You get to steal shadows, so you're getting the good end of the deal here!"

Rémington looked over the guards whose minds had already been robbed. "Everyone, put up your hands," he commanded.

The guards all threw their hands into the air, dropping their bows.

"Good," Rémington said with a grin. "Now pick up those bows and go fight the incoming armies."

The guards bent to retrieve their weapons before darting off.

"Let's find a good vantage point," Rémington advised; he sought a way to get higher up in the tree level.

Oakheart was leading the grand charge toward the throne room. "This is the way to the sanctuary," he explained. "Perhaps we can get there before they…"

He became aware of the line of Cra guards charging him, weapons raised. "STOP!" he commanded. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

They loosed their arrows of energy in synchrony.

Sora's Keyblade spun through the air, cutting through and destroying each arrow. "What gives?" he yelled at the guards.

"Sora…" Yugo tugged at his sleeve. "I've seen that look in their eyes before. They've been turned into ghouls."

"Turned into WHAT?" Sora replied.

Before the Cra guards could launch their next volley, vines erupted from the ground, encircling their bows and snapping them. "Ghouls or no ghouls, you should still LISTEN TO YOUR PRINCESS!" Amalia yelled, stamping on the ground.

"Why were they ghouls?" Stork asked, beginning to quiver.

"The last time I saw this," Yugo explained, "it was the fault of a Shushu named Ombrage. She stole people's shadows, and they ended up like that."

The ghouls were still shambling toward the crowd.

"They seem to think they can take all of us," Pandiego scoffed.

Then his own shadow was sucked away, leaving him glassy-eyed. With a roar, he struck out at his fellow Pandawas, who scattered.

"IT'S HAPPENING!" Stork yelled. "OUR DOOM IS HAPPENING!"

The entire crowd noticed as shadows began to disappear at random, ghoulifying a large portion of the soldiers who made up the armies. High above, Rémington and Grany tried to keep from laughing as they perched on a hidden branch, picking out whose soul looked ripest for stealing next.

"What about those kids who humiliated us?" Grany suggested.

"I can take them in one swoop!" Ombrage boasted.

"Not just yet," Rémington cautioned. "They're too amusing when they're confused. Let's just keep them busy fighting their own army."

The ghouls planted within the crowd began to attack wildly; the rest were thrown into mass pandemonium, torn between defending themselves and attacking their cohorts. "We have to do something!" Sora yelled. "Everyone! Stop as many of those ghouls as you can without hurting them!"

"I'm on it!" Ruby swung her scythe backward at three ghouls, knocking them back but giving them no worse than a set of good bruises.

"Someone has Ombrage," Yugo growled, "and I'm going to find out who and where." He formed a portal for himself and slipped into it, reappearing at the other end of the crowd to begin his search.

Sora cast a strong Aeroga that repelled a group of ghouls close to him; he used its protective covering to barge at another collection of them. Papyrus began to pelt the ghoulified victims with blue bones, keeping them away from those they tried to seize. The Sheran Sharm family went into action wrapping the afflicted up in vines. Stork and Jasmine punched and kicked their way through the ghouls, and as they did so, Stork whimpered, "This is it. This was the plan all along. We're never going to get to Qilby if we're too busy fighting our own people!"

Inside the throne room, the nine of the WHAM ARMY had located a small door that refused to open; the compass needle pointed directly at it. "Our target seems to be down there," Wuya noted.

Mozenrath looked to the Huntsman. "This door doesn't look so tough," he observed. "I think you and I together can break it."

"Most likely," the Huntsman agreed. He raised and charged the huntstaff; Mozenrath's gauntlet glowed.

Both hit the door at the same time, and it disintegrated, offering the nine passage down into the sanctuary.

Tyrian heard the approaching footsteps, perking up and looking in the direction of the passage. Mozenrath was the first to exit the passage, laying eyes on Tyrian. "It's you," he groaned.

Tyrian broke into a wide smile. "Indeed, it is me!" he proclaimed. "And it looks like I'm outnumbered. Oh, woe is me!"

"Hey, Tyrian?" Roman snapped. "Why don't you shut the fuck up?"

"Oh, it's 'TYRIAN,' is it?" Tyrian replied. "Or did you mean 'Fuckface'?"

There was a silence before Tyrian simply admitted, "I knew."

"Of course you did," Roman sighed.

"And the feeling is mutual," Tyrian assured him. "Surely you know that this time, Salem actually wants me to get rid of you. Which I would do, if I had the upper hand. But as I don't…farewell!" He turned to rush inside the clock. Once he was inside, he thought, he would reunite with Hades and Qilby, and then he would be able to watch as the WHAM ARMY was ruined –

He was stopped short by a pair of wiry ankles crossing in front of his throat, lightly choking him. The legs they belonged to wrapped around his upper body, and Tyrian was then flipped over backward, brought down hard on his stomach.

"I'm sorry," the voice of Ragdoll taunted as the contortionist unwound his limbs from Tyrian. "Were you going somewhere?"

Tyrian clenched the grass as he pried himself up. "You…"

"Why don't the rest of you go on ahead?" Ragdoll suggested to the other eight. "This seems like sort of an original-eight-friends occasion, doesn't it? I'll just make sure you have one less to deal with."

"One less to deal with, is it?" Tyrian cackled, standing up and holding up both arms, deploying his wrist blades. "Good idea!" He slashed both wrists out toward Ragdoll –

And missed entirely, as Ragdoll leapt forward, grasping Tyrian's shoulders and shoving the braided man forward as he landed gracefully behind. Tyrian spun in anger, now wanting only to cut Ragdoll down, but Ragdoll crumpled on the ground and the blades passed harmlessly over his head. "I would go," Ragdoll encouraged the others.

Mozenrath, Wuya, Yzma, the Huntsman, Snatcher, Roman, Aghoul, and Mim all exchanged a group shrug before barging toward the entrance to the clock.

"That…DOES IT!" Tyrian punched toward Ragdoll, shooting one of his wrist-mounted guns in the process; Ragdoll snaked around the shot and grinned at him from a safe distance. "I WILL dispose of you before I see this through!" He leapt, spinning; Ragdoll did the same, landing in a graceful arabesque several feet away. "You can't possibly be that special! I'll have you torn apart in a matter of minutes!" He completely opened fire, letting a salvo of bullets fly in all directions. Ragdoll backflipped, cartwheeled, handsprung, and avoided the ammunition altogether before landing right behind Tyrian, punching him hard in the back of the head. Tyrian's tail flicked; Ragdoll deftly avoided getting stabbed in the face by a hair, seizing the tail and using it to jerk Tyrian backward.

"Really," Ragdoll taunted as Tyrian fell onto his back, "it's like you're not even trying."

"I…WILL…END YOU!" Tyrian fired straight at Ragdoll, but once again, Ragdoll made a flying leap out of the way, landing and somersaulting before standing and taking a bow.

"Missed meeeeeee!" Ragdoll cried with a grin.

Tyrian leapt to his feet, roared, and charged. His wrists slashed in a flurry; Ragdoll simply bent this way and that, making the misses as close as possible for his own entertainment value. He flipped, and his foot knocked into the base of Tyrian's chin, earning a squall of frustration from the braided man.

"Really now," Ragdoll told him, "I'm ready to stop playing around whenever you are."

Tyrian's blows became slightly faster.

"Now that's more like it," Ragdoll muttered as he bent backward and once again out of danger's way.

Mozenrath led the charge to the largest chamber inside of the great clock. The eight ascended a small flight of stairs to find the round room filled with ticking mechanisms: needles, gears, and coils. The Eliacube was positioned on a small table in the center of the room.

And Hades and Qilby stood between it and the eight of the WHAM ARMY.

"So did you ever plan on NOT being a complete annoyance?" Hades asked. "Because everywhere we go, there you are, poking around in what is NOT your business and making life harder for us. Do you even realize how out of your league you are? Sure, you got lucky once or twice, but all you're doing is making EVERYONE'S job harder when we all know how this ends. We win. You lose. Stop making us take that long to get there."

"Have you actually looked at your odds here?" Mozenrath retorted. "Eight of us…two of you. You don't need to be as smart as I am to do that math."

"You're crunching the wrong numbers, babe," Hades told him. "But you know what? You really wanna test this? Let's go. You just try and take the cube from us. Prove to me that you aren't just wasting everyone's time."

Yzma put a hand on Mozenrath's shoulder. "This is suspicious," she hissed.

"You have a better idea?" Mozenrath asked her.

"Admittedly, no," she whispered back.

Mozenrath's gauntleted hand glowed bright blue. "This is your last chance," he warned, "to just let us take the Eliacube and go. We don't actually care what you do to this world. Just give us the cube, and we'll leave."

"Mozzy. Can I call ya Mozzy?" Hades stepped closer to Mozenrath. "I think neither of us really wants that to be how it goes." He used a bony finger to lift Mozenrath's chin up and line up their gazes. "Am I right, or am I right?"

Mozenrath smirked. "Suit yourself."

His right fist swung directly at Hades' stomach.

Hades faded into smoke, and the punch hit nothing. The death god rematerialized several feet away, beckoning; "Come and get me." He then loaded a fireball into each hand and launched.

At the same time, Qilby drew his scythe, now the same blue as the other gifts Hades had given him, from thin air, swinging it directly at Wuya. She leapt over the blade, spinning to aim a kick directly at Qilby's face. He leaned back far enough for it to miss. Yzma loaded up her atlatl, launching a dart in Qilby's direction; he caught it with a bright blue portal, using a second portal to send it right at Yzma. Mim, suddenly in the body of a wolf, soared through the air, clutching the dart shaft between her teeth.

The Huntsman stepped out in front of Mozenrath, twirling the huntstaff quickly enough to deflect both fireballs before pointing the staff forward and rushing. Hades put up a wall of flame between the Huntsman and himself; the Huntsman, Mozenrath, Roman, and Snatcher fired long-distance projectiles at him from the other side, hoping their shots would break through the flames and hit the death god.

"So you want to play SCYTHES, do you?" Aghoul cackled before bringing his own scythe to hand; he stepped in front of Qilby, and the two scythes arced through the air, clashing with each other again and again. Wuya took the opportunity of Qilby being distracted to aim a thick beam of magic at his back; it was swallowed up by a portal and aimed down at Wuya from above. Wuya deflected it with half a second to spare.

Mim shifted into the form of a water buffalo, pawing the ground before taking a run at Qilby. As her sprint became faster and faster, she focused on his midsection, ready to ram his stomach with everything she had.

Qilby took a moment to look away from Aghoul, simply smiling directly at her. A portal appeared in her path, too quick for her to dodge, and she barreled right into it.

It spat her out in a dark cavern that appeared to have been roughly carved from the stone around it. She was far beneath the surface of the island of the Crimson Claws, but she had no way of knowing that. The moment the portal closed, Mim's body was forced back into human shape. "Huh?" she said to herself. She snapped her fingers to open a new portal: a Corridor that would take her all the way back to the clock.

But nothing happened.

She snapped again and again. "Why won't this work?" she huffed. Out of curiosity, she tried to simply call a rain of hurtful sparks into her fingers, but no magic would respond at all.

She took a moment to look around the cavern. More accurately, it was a prison cell forged of stone. Iron bars set closely together formed one wall, and the rest was hard, jagged rock. Mim approached the bars, squinting to see through the darkness. She could just make out the shape of a familiar device set some distance away from the bars, too far for her to reach. Frustration bubbled up through her as she realized what it was. It was the not-quite-roundness of an Inhibitor: the anti-magical device covered with eyes that hampered the magic of whatever they saw. And Inhibitors had excellent night vision.

"Well, drat!" Mim muttered, plopping down onto the solid floor. As long as that Inhibitor sat outside her cell with no way for her to reach it, she couldn't use her magic, and had no way of getting back to the battlefield. She would just have to wait it out for the others to come and find her.

"WHERE DID YOU SEND MY MIMSIE?" Aghoul roared as he twirled his scythe, swinging it for another shot at Qilby.

"Hmm…don't know," Qilby lied. "Would you like to find out?"

Columns of fire erupted between the Huntsman, Mozenrath, Roman, and Snatcher, causing them to scatter. The great wall of fire subsided, leaving Hades temporarily open; Roman saw the opportunity and charged.

"ROMAN!" the Huntsman yelled. "NO!"

Roman swung the Cudgel at Hades, phasing right through the god once more as he became smoke. As Roman landed on the floor, a great gear detached itself from the ceiling, as Hades bade it to, and tumbled downward, threatening to crush Roman.

"NO!" Mozenrath caught the gear in a levitation as Snatcher barged forward, ready to take the brunt of the blow himself if necessary. Mozenrath then turned the gear around at Hades, planting it on the floor and rolling it at the god. Hades first blasted the metal gear with as much fire as he could muster, then used his own power to make it roll backward, right toward Mozenrath.

Wuya swooped in from the side, levitating in midair and grasping the red-hot gear with her bare arms. "Borrowing this," she said as she raised it high. "AGHOUL! MOVE IT!" She launched the gear right at Qilby.

Aghoul backpedaled to get out of the way, unknowingly stepping right into a portal Qilby had created. Qilby sliced through the gear with his scythe, sending the halves crashing into the walls of the chamber.

Aghoul found himself in another crudely dug cell halfway up the mountain where Ogrest had bawled for centuries. The bars were set partway into the cavern, leaving space for an Inhibitor to dangle outside. Aghoul immediately tried to forge a portal back to the battlefield, only to find no response.

"Oh, no," he muttered.

"HE'S TRYING TO SPLIT US UP!" Yzma realized. "RETREAT!"

"NO!" Mozenrath yelled. "NOT UNTIL THE ELIACUBE IS MINE!" He charged up another blast, letting loose a barrage at Hades in the form of several small plasma missiles that curved at odd angles to meet their target, hoping to confuse Hades into getting hit by at least one.

Hades snapped his fingers, and every single missile went up in flames. "By the way," he said, "I'm gonna need you to not have this." He zoomed right up close to the Huntsman, seizing the Huntstaff by the shaft. He and the Huntsman tugged at the weapon only momentarily before Hades broke it altogether.

"NO!" the Huntsman yelled.

"Yes," Hades replied, deadpan. "Qilbs?"

Qilby sent a portal beneath the Huntsman's feet that he went tumbling through.

The Huntsman was dumped down onto the streets of Brakmar, stumbling onto his back as he watched the sky above. He gave a wordless roar of absolute rage. Had he his staff, he could have at least attempted to use it to forge a bridge back to the clock, for all the good that would do. Now, he couldn't even try, and he realized that was Hades' intent.

"THAT'S IT!" Yzma cried. "I'M OUT OF HERE! ANYONE ELSE WITH SENSE, FOLLOW ME!"

She turned to run back down the stairs, quickly throwing a glance over her shoulder to see if anyone was following. Wuya very nearly did, but then she saw the portal appear right in Yzma's path. By the time Yzma turned to look forward, she was already running across the boufbowl field of Bonta.

"YOU BRING HER BACK!" Wuya launched herself across the field at Qilby, hands loaded with magic. Qilby's scythe sailed toward her; she flew beneath it and rammed both hands into his stomach. Qilby was sent flying all the way up to impact the ceiling.

"Ah-ah-ah," Hades cautioned. "Should NOT have done that." He flicked his wrist toward Wuya, and she was suddenly bound in chains that no amount of magic could break. As she squirmed, it was child's play for Qilby to lower a portal over her that transported her to a prison cell in Haven Port, overseen by another Inhibitor – albeit one that Hades' chains rendered useless.

Qilby, in the meantime, repositioned himself, pushing off from the ceiling to sail down toward his next target. The scythe twirled as Qilby sailed directly toward Roman.

"TORCHWICK! NO!" Snatcher hurried to shove Roman out of the way -

Pushing him right into another portal.

Qilby stopped an inch short of Snatcher. "Thank you," he said smugly.

Roman stumbled into a bamboo patch in Pandalucia. "Oh, this is just GREAT," he yelled, grabbing a bamboo shaft and snapping it over his knee.

"NOW YOU'VE GONE AND DONE IT!" Snatcher bellowed, swinging his mallet at Qilby's face; Qilby was halfway across the room before it could connect. Snatcher soon realized how much of a minefield he was standing in: it was only himself and Mozenrath, and Qilby could create a portal anywhere.

Mozenrath was still trying his best to outfox Hades, surrounding the god with an enormous blue sphere that closed in on him. Hades simply shattered it like glass with a flick of his finger. "C'mon, Mozzy, you're on a kid's level here," Hades groaned.

Mozenrath screamed as he sent lightning bolts to attack Hades from all directions; Hades rolled his eyes as an invisible deflection shield held every blast off. "Seriously?"

Snatcher looked to Qilby, standing stock-still as he tried to calculate his next move.

"What's the matter?" Qilby asked. "Not sure which way to go?"

It then occurred to Snatcher: during all the fighting, no one had thought of going for the Eliacube itself, and everyone had passed it at least once. And once he had it, Qilby would want it back, and therefore would be reluctant to transport him. All he had to do was be quick and deceptive enough. He started out at a run toward Qilby, raising his weapon.

He turned right before the portal opened up in front of him; he made a great leap, reaching out, his fingers very nearly grasping the cube.

He landed on the beach of Breta, displacing a fair amount of sand. "NO!" Snatcher yelled as he pounded the ground with his fist.

"Hey, Mozzy," Hades pointed out. "At what point did you realize we cut you off from all your little friendsies?"

"At what point did you forget they're strong enough to get through whatever you did to them?" Mozenrath retorted.

"Well, see, that's the thing," Hades told him as Qilby came to rest at his side. "All that time you were following us around the world? We were setting up these little things called Inhibitors. Every now and again, we'd set up a prison cell with an Inhibitor placed outside of it, and just now, we sent your three magic-makers to three of those cells we set up. The rest of them, we just threw wherever. So you can expect your more magical friends to be able to teleport back in three…two…NEVER, because we blocked their magic. Also, we did, in fact, scatter them throughout the whole world. You do realize what that means, right?"

"I DON'T CARE!" Mozenrath yelled, slashing through the air repeatedly and sending arcs of magic at Hades.

"Whoooooa there!" Hades replied, backhanding the magic away; it exploded against the wall. "You might wanna slow down and actually listen to what I am saying. YOUR FRIENDS ARE SCATTERED THROUGHOUT THE WORLD. The world which, if this machine keeps going the way it's going, will be reduced to a barren wasteland filled with lifeless corpses, including your friends, in…oh, about half an hour, maybe less."

The implications struck Mozenrath. "I'll…I'll find them first!" he barked.

"No you won't," Hades taunted. "You don't even know where to look. It is not going to take you less than half an hour to round them all up. Maybe you'll find ONE, if you're lucky. The rest of them? My domain, kid. Good thing you can just resurrect them all, right? Well, except for the fact that a little birdie named Madame Medusa told me you couldn't use your magic last time she ran into you. And, as the owner of the ORIGINAL spring of Lethe water, it didn't take long to put two and two together. Sure, you can make fireworks again, but necromancy by intent? Oi, that doesn't come back so easily, does it?"

"WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME THIS?" Mozenrath yelled.

"Just to see the look on your face," Qilby said with a grin, "when you realized what we did to your friends. Tyrian is going to be angry he missed this."

"Where is Scorpion Boy, anyway?" Hades wondered out loud. He then shrugged. "Eh, not a big deal. Probably still out taking his walk. If we gotta leave without him, those are the breaks."

"No…" Mozenrath's memory overflowed. Roman, drinking and laughing with him in the bar at Brakmar. Snatcher doing his makeup. Mim whispering to him schemes of death at Haven Port. The Huntsman taking him aside on the deck of the Incurable Blight. Yzma on that same ship, rattling off her incredulous plan. Him and Aghoul ascending the mountain. Wuya in the hotel room after the Archmage's great victory. "NOOOOOOOOO!"

"And the best part is," Qilby taunted, "there's nothing you can do about it."

Mozenrath could feel his own heartbeat pounding through his chest. "No," he whispered. He added force to his voice: "No! There's ALWAYS something I can do about it!" He looked around frantically.

Suddenly, his eyes alit upon the Eliacube. First, he made the same realization Snatcher had. The cube was simply sitting out in the open, and ripe for Mozenrath to just take, if he cared about getting away with it alone. But more than that, like a flash of lightning, the conversation he'd had with Rémington aboard Wuya's makeshift vehicle while headed away from the Sadida Kingdom replayed in his head. "As a matter of fact," he said, suddenly confident, "I know exactly what I'm going to do."

He lunged for the Eliacube.

He didn't even notice that Qilby and Hades didn't try to stop him.

Mozenrath seized the Eliacube in both hands, though it was really his right hand that was doing all the work. If Rémington had told him correctly, the cube could in fact reverse time; it would just take a heavy toll. Mozenrath started feeding raw magic into the cube, willing it as hard as he could to go back, go back, go back before any of this had happened.

The cube glowed, responding to Mozenrath's touch, to his influx of magic. It required a lot of magic, even more than Mozenrath had suspected. He was wracked with pain, and he cried out loudly. He could feel the energy drain literally ripping the flesh from where his skin edged his shoulder as Hades gave his entire speech backward.

A portal appeared very near Mozenrath and spat Snatcher back out onto the battlefield; Snatcher ran backward, turning to face one of Qilby's portals before coming to rest in one place, looking anxiously at a spot in the air. Roman reappeared, pressing against Snatcher's outstretched hands and shoving him backward.

The pain increased. Mozenrath could now feel the strain in the center of his chest, radiating out toward his other arm.

Qilby hit the ceiling. Wuya was revealed from the ground up, then released from the chains Hades had put on her. Qilby shot down from the ceiling to hover over her, and Wuya was flung back as Yzma jogged backward out of a portal.

Skin, tearing away from bone and disintegrating, around Mozenrath's stomach. Musculature following. White-hot pain behind his eyes, nearly blinding him, but he knew he had to keep holding on, just a little longer, just a little longer –

The Huntsman erupted from the ground. The huntstaff forged itself in his hands; he and Hades pushed it back and forth before Hades let go and backed away. The great gear from the ceiling reformed, Qilby's scythe sliding through the crack as its halves reunited, and it flew into Wuya's arms as Aghoul stepped out of the portal.

It was all but impossible for Mozenrath to hold onto the cube, but still he did, focusing only on his fingers, making sure they kept gripping, kept feeding in the magic.

The gear lifted in midair even without Mozenrath there to levitate it. It then affixed itself to the ceiling once more as Roman thudded to the floor, then rose up into a graceful backward leap. And at last, Mim, as a buffalo, galloped out of her portal in reverse.

Almost done, Mozenrath thought. We just need to make it to safety. Now his legs were burning, all the way down to the tips of his toes.

Aghoul and Qilby engaged in scytheplay. On the other side of the field, blasts of green energy were absorbed by the huntstaff, explosive ammunition stuffed itself into the Cudgel, and lightning struck the barrel of Snatcher's weapon. The Huntsman spun the huntstaff, sending twin fireballs into Hades' palms. Mim threw a dart into a portal, where it reappeared from another one and settled within Yzma's atlatl. Wuya threw a punch at Qilby. And suddenly, all but Mozenrath were lined up at the far end of the battlefield, behind Hades and Qilby, who were behind Mozenrath. Mozenrath was forcing himself to look over his shoulder at this point to confirm that he'd arrived at the right time. Then he stopped feeding magic into the Eliacube.

But, he realized, he was still holding it, and the battle hadn't yet begun.

"MOZENRATH?" Yzma cried. "How'd you get over there?"

Mozenrath held up the cube triumphantly. "I believe this is what we came for," he announced, turning to stride back toward his friends, his friends who were safe, safe because he'd saved them, and was he ever suddenly dizzy and light-headed because of everything he'd done –

The moment Hades and Qilby saw the Eliacube in Mozenrath's hands, without having seen him teleport there, they knew Tyrian's plan had succeeded. And it was confirmed all the more when Mozenrath placed one foot in front of the other, wobbled, and collapsed to the floor. He'd just about killed himself, Hades and Qilby knew, reversing time with the Eliacube. Just as Tyrian had wanted.

Just as Maleficent would want.

And so, when the Huntsman barreled forward to assist Mozenrath, Hades and Qilby simply stood aside and let him.

"Mozenrath!" the Huntsman yelled, placing a hand on Mozenrath's back. "MOZENRATH! Say something!"

Mozenrath tried to pry himself upward, but he was too weak, and the pain was too great. All he could do was say the words he hated most: "Help…me…"

The Huntsman turned him over and scooped him up, one arm behind Mozenrath's back and the other under his knees. The young man was too light, the Huntsman realized. He had never weighed that little before. He didn't understand what had happened at all, but something frightening had taken place. Mozenrath still clutched his hard-earned prize, the Eliacube, in both hands. When the Huntsman saw this, his blood ran cold: not because of the gesture or the presence of the cube, but because Mozenrath's uncovered left hand was now completely skeletal.

"GO!" the Huntsman roared. "NOW!"

The others didn't need to be told twice. They rushed out of the clock as quickly as their legs could take them.

"How long, again, until he dies?" Qilby asked.

"Well, unfortunately, the cube didn't just do the job for us," Hades grunted. "But, if he strains himself or uses much more magic, I'd give him a day."

As Rémington and Grany continued to observe the brawl below, Grany forcing Ombrage to take another shadow every now and again to make the odds worse, Rémington casually said, "You know what would make this even better?"

"This better not be another one of your terrible ideas," Grany said casually.

"Trust me," Rémington told him, "this is only going to make it more fun for us." He withdrew both pistols, twirling them once before letting off a volley of shots into the crowd at random.

The benefit, for him, was that several people were struck – thankfully nonfatally – and went down to nurse their injuries. However, as soon as Yugo noticed the bullets, he knew they had to be coming from somewhere, and he followed their path directly upward with his eyes until they connected with the barely-visible sight of…

"REMINGTON SMIIIIIIIIIISSE!"

"HOW DID YOU NOT SEE THAT COMING?" Grany yowled.

Yugo immediately teleported up to the branch where the Smisse brothers stood, pointing an accusing finger. "YOU HAVE OMBRAGE!"

"That's right!" Grany laughed. "And you're about to learn the consequences the hard way!" He turned so Ombrage faced Yugo.

The moment she began to pull his shadow in, Yugo forged himself a portal, ducking into it and toward safety. "Where'd he go?" Rémington asked in surprise.

Yugo reappeared behind Grany, swiping Ombrage off the Bow Meow's tail with an "AAAAARGH!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!" Ombrage squealed.

Down below, every ghoul suddenly regained their shadow and humanity. The fighting ceased as those who'd transformed sheepishly explained how they'd lost control.

"WHAT DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?" Yugo demanded.

"Run," Grany whispered to Rémington, who didn't need to be told twice. Rémington scooped Grany up into his arms and leapt down to the branch below before bolting, making a parkour course through the trees on his way to the throne room. He guessed finding the path the rest of the WHAM ARMY would take would be easy. They needed to be warned.

Yugo teleported himself back to the frontlines, opting not to chase the Smisses. "TO STOP QILBY!" he cried, pointing forward, and the group charged. All the while, Yugo's mind raced. If the Smisses were here, did that also mean Mozenrath?

Rémington and Grany found the entrance to the sanctuary within the throne room mere moments before the great army burst into the chamber. The Smisses quickly dashed inside as Oakheart showed the way to the sanctuary. "There is only room for one at a time!" he exclaimed.

"Sora!" Yugo cried. "Us first, so we can head them off!"

"Right!" Sora said with a nod. Yugo was the first to hit the sanctuary's passage, followed by Sora, Amalia, Ruby, Papyrus, Stork, and Jasmine, then the rest.

The Huntsman, carrying Mozenrath, charged out of the clock to see Tyrian and Ragdoll still struggling. When Tyrian got an eyeful, he stopped what he was doing to double over and laugh. "He's dead!" Tyrian howled as Yzma, Wuya, Aghoul, Mim, Roman, and Snatcher also exited. "MOZENRATH IS FINALLY DEAD!"

"Not…yet," Mozenrath growled, fighting to keep his eyes open.

"Oh, but you will be soon," Tyrian cackled. "So very soon! And it's all exactly as I planned! I knew that if I split up your friends, I could force you to save them by reversing – "

His grand reveal of his plan was interrupted by Ragdoll flipping him over backward once more to plant his face hard into the ground. "That's enough of that," Ragdoll proclaimed.

"We must get word to the Smisse brothers and leave!" the Huntsman asserted.

Rémington and Grany came barreling into the sanctuary. "We have company!" Rémington warned.

"AND IT'S ALL HIS FAULT!" Grany emphasized.

"WUYA!" the Huntsman barked. "Take us home!"

Wuya cast a Corridor that connected directly to the Cyclonian warship, and all eleven filtered into it. It snapped closed before Tyrian could fire a parting shot. All the same, Tyrian continued to laugh as he rose and scampered into the clock. He'd done it. He'd forced Mozenrath to waste his life force on magic that was too powerful for him to truly handle. He'd won.

In the jaunt through the Darkness from portal to portal, the Huntsman asked Mozenrath, "How? How did this happen?"

"Remember when Rémington said this thing could turn back time?" Mozenrath recalled. "It…takes more energy than he said it would."

"But why?" the Huntsman urged. "Where did we go wrong?"

"The high-and-mighty Qilby split us up," Mozenrath explained. "He managed to scatter us across the world, and…well, I'm not going to go into the details. All I'm going to say is that was the first and last time we're ever going to win anything by turning back time."

There was a great THUMP; ten turned back to see who had fallen behind. Ragdoll had collapsed, lying prone on the ground.

"Oh, what is wrong with HIM now?" Yzma groaned.

Ragdoll groaned before lifting his head. "I…may have forgotten to mention a…small detail," he said with his usual smile; his voice was weak. "I sustained just a…bit of an injury."

As he lay on his stomach, it was now easy to see the tear in the back of his patchwork suit, the place where something long and sharp had dragged its way through his skin for about three inches.

"You didn't get that from the TAIL, did you?" Roman asked in a panic.

"Will that be a problem?" Ragdoll asked sheepishly.

"That is NOT good!" Roman insisted. "Fuckface's tail is like every other scorpion's tail: poisonous as shit. You…are kind of dead."

"Should we leave him?" Rémington wondered out loud. "We don't need more dead weight…"

"No," Mozenrath insisted. "He held off Tyrian on his own. He…finally did something useful. Bring him back."

Mim transformed into a walking bed, using an animate blanket to flip Ragdoll up onto her mattress before continuing her run through the Darkness alongside everyone else. The exit into the warship finally came into proximity.

Yugo and Sora arrived just in time to see the WHAM ARMY disappear into the Corridor and Tyrian flee up into the clock. "I wonder where they went," Sora mused, looking at the spot where the Corridor had closed.

"Well, we know where Qilby is," Yugo replied, motioning to the clock.

Sora turned around, putting up his arms. "EVERYBODY!" he yelled to the crowd filtering in. "My friends and I are going to go in first to make sure it's safe! When we need you, we'll call for you!"

"So you'll call immediately, then," Adal sighed.

"We will be at the ready!" Melo promised.

Sora, Yugo, Ruby, Papyrus, Amalia, Jasmine, and Stork hustled inside the clock, up the stairs to face down Qilby, Hades, and Tyrian once more.

What they found was the trio of villains hovering around the small table where the Eliacube had been previously housed. Hades poured a small serving of his essence into a blue, spherical shape that flickered like flame and held the Eliacube's place. "Bada BING!" he announced. "Now, the show can go on!" He, Tyrian, and Qilby looked up to see the arrival of the seven newcomers. "Hey, hey, just in time! Now you can see that the destruction WILL go on with or without that dinky cube!"

"The Eliacube?" Yugo repeated. "Where is it?"

"Mozenrath collected his prize," Qilby explained, "and left this world with it. We had no further use for it."

"Left the world?" Sora reiterated, balling his hands into fists. "How do we know we can believe you?"

"Because in just a short while," Hades explained, "this world is going to go boom. And NOBODY wants to be here when it does. Including us." He snapped his fingers, creating a Corridor that Qilby immediately sprinted through. "Have fun with the apocalypse, kids!"

"Yes, farewell!" Tyrian giggled. "Farewell, key boy! Farewell, fair princess! Farewell, girl with – "

He finally got the opportunity that he was deprived of on Oma: to see Ruby in her own body, as her own person, close up. And once he did, his demeanor transformed entirely. "Silver eyes," he realized. "SILVER EYES!"

He lunged for Ruby – and was immediately held back by Hades seizing his forearm. "Scorpion Boy," Hades scolded. "You got a death wish? Seriously, your plan pretty much offed Mozzy. You're gonna wanna live to reap the rewards." He dragged Tyrian into the Corridor.

Tyrian struggled, unable to break the iron-like grip around his arm. "BUT THE GIRL WITH THE SILVER EYES!" he protested. "I MUST BRING HER TO MY GODDESS! MY GODDESS NEEDS HER! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! IT IS FAR MORE IMPORTANT THAN MOZENRATH – "

The Corridor closed, silencing Tyrian's cries.

"He…knew me?" Ruby said in shock.

"ARE THEY REALLY GOING TO DESTROY THIS WORLD?" Papyrus asked. "OR WERE THEY JUST BLUFFING?"

"I've seen this machine work before," Yugo explained. "It's capable of sucking the Wakfu out of entire kingdoms when the Eliacube is powering it. I don't know what happens when that thing is powering it instead." He motioned to the blue sphere.

"It comes from Hades," Sora confirmed, "so it's not good."

All seven reached out to try and displace the sphere; it let off a protective shockwave of magic that threw them back forcefully.

"I don't think that's going to work," Stork grunted.

"Something else isn't right," Sora realized. "Something about this place feels…different."

"It should," Amalia told him. "It is the home of the Tree of Life, where every Sadida's name is written. If the machine were going through the Tree directly, every Sadida would already be dead."

"But it's not going through the Tree," Sora realized. "It's going through something else. Does anyone else feel weird about this place?"

"I think I'm feeling what you're feeling," Jasmine agreed. "It feels…sacred."

"BECAUSE IT IS!" Amalia yelled. "How many more times do I have to repeat that?"

"If it's sacred," Sora realized, "and pivotal to that much of the World of Twelve, and Jasmine and I BOTH feel something strange here, then this could be the Heart of the World!"

"The WHAT?" Amalia barked.

"Every world has a heart," Sora explained. "Someplace that's like its center. It can be locked or unlocked to connect it to or protect it from the Darkness. I wonder if the clock is working through the Keyhole. That would mean it really could destroy this entire world really soon unless we stop it!"

"Which we can't do," Stork said in a high, rushed voice, "because the magic holding this thing together won't let us take it away, so we can't take away the power source, and that means this entire world is doomed, doomed, doomed – "

"There has to be another way," Ruby insisted. "If we can't take down the power source…what if we brought down the rest of the mechanism?"

That snapped Stork out of his stressed tirade. "The rest of the mechanism," he realized, looking around at the various gears and cogs. "I…I could do it." He nodded. "I could take this machine apart. I don't know if it would be in time, but it's the only option we have." He rushed toward one of the gears, removing a wrench from his pocket, one he kept on him in case of emergencies. As he went to work dislodging the gear, he explained, "The downside is, even if I do make it in time, judging by what I've seen of the machine's setup, if I just attack its primary weak points, there is a good chance that the entire thing will just explode. So the rest of you are going to want to get out of here. Like, all the way out of here. As far from the throne room as you can get."

"WHAT?" Sora screamed. "STORK! You CAN'T die here!"

"IT'S THE ONLY WAY!" Stork insisted.

"Then I'll stay with you," Yugo asserted, "and when you finish, I'll teleport you out."

Stork's face lit up…and then fell. "You can't do that," he realized. "There are way too many innocent people in the sanctuary right now, and they're still coming in single file. You need to use your portals to get everyone out at once. And get them FAR AWAY."

"But…Stork…" Yugo choked.

"It's me or all of them!" Stork barked.

Ruby looked around the chamber, assessing the machinery. "You might not make it out of this clock alive," she said suddenly, "but you'll stop the clock before it can destroy the world." She drew Crescent Rose from its case, digging its point into the floor and prying up a panel to reveal a mess of cogs. "Because I'm staying to help you."

"Ruby, no!" Stork snapped. "It should just be me! Not you!"

"What if this is the only way to make sure the clock breaks down in time?" Ruby argued, digging her hands carefuly into the cogs set in the floor and picking them apart.

"You don't know how to disassemble it!" Stork insisted.

"I put together my own weapon, didn't I?" Ruby reminded him. "I'll figure it out! And you can just tell me the basics of what needs to be taken apart!"

"Has anyone considered that this STILL might not be enough?" Amalia barked. "It's already done so much damage to the Heart of the World!"

"But I can slow it with the Keyblade," Sora realized.

"And I'll do what I can to repair the Keyhole," Jasmine added. "Between the two of us, we just might be able to fix it."

"Did you NOT hear what I said about the clock going boom?" Stork growled.

"It's the four of us," Sora reminded him, "or all of them." He turned to Yugo, Amalia, and Papyrus. "The three of you need to focus on getting everybody out and to safety."

Yugo trembled before croaking an "Okay."

"You can count on me," Amalia promised somberly.

Papyrus, at first, appeared as though he didn't know what course of action to take. Then he said, "ALL RIGHT. I WILL EVACUATE EVERYONE. BUT ONLY BECAUSE I HAVE FAITH THAT THE REST OF YOU WILL FIND A WAY OUT IN TIME. YOU'VE ALL FACED IMPOSSIBLE ODDS BEFORE, AND I BELIEVE YOU CAN DO IT AGAIN!"

"We just might!" Sora said with a grin. "But, Papyrus…" He reached out, taking one of Papyrus' red-gloved hands into both of his. "In case we…y'know, we don't actually beat the odds…I need you to do something huge for us. Tell everyone goodbye. Find Riku and Kairi. Find Jaune, Nora, and Ren. Find Aladdin and Finn. Tell them all what happened to us, and…that we love them."

"I ABSOLUTELY WILL NOT NEED TO DO THAT," Papyrus insisted, "BUT…JUST IN CASE, I WILL BE READY TO."

"Thanks," Sora said as he let Papyrus' hand fall back to his side. "Okay, everyone! You know the plan! Now let's go!"

Papyrus, Yugo, Amalia, Sora, and Jasmine sprinted down the stairs and outside as fast as they could. Stork ordered Ruby, "Keep working on that floor until you find the mechanism that stops the whole thing from moving." He wrenched the gears he'd just loosened from the wall. "I have to survey the other rooms."

Outside the clock, Papyrus, Yugo, and Amalia went one way while Jasmine and Sora went the other. "EVERYONE!" Papyrus called out. "I HAVE BEEN INFORMED IT IS TOO DANGEROUS TO STAY HERE! WE HAVE FIGURED OUT A PLAN TO STOP THIS CLOCK FROM DESTROYING THE WORLD, BUT THERE IS GOING TO BE A RATHER LARGE EXPLOSION FIRST! SO WE NEED EVERYONE TO EVACUATE! BUT WORRY NOT! YUGO SHALL PROVIDE THE WAY!"

Yugo concentrated on creating the largest portal he'd ever made and holding it open. At Papyrus' beckoning, the people began to rush through it, ending up a safe distance away from the throne room chamber. Papyrus continued to wave through the people who were still coming in through the passage one by one.

Amalia thought to say something to aid in the evacuation effort, but her attention was drawn by an ethereal pull. The Tree of Life was calling to her, and she turned to look at it.

Suddenly, it was as if she was standing right next to the Tree, looking closely at the symbols that represented the names of the Sadida as they crawled over its bark. An old, weathered doll with leaves sticking up at the end of long hairs on its head turned to look at Amalia with empty eyes.

"I remember you," Amalia said, not sure if she was physically in proximity or still standing on the shore. She shuddered as implications settled in: "You're…going to be hurt in the explosion, aren't you? There's no way to save my people, is there?"

The doll implanted a single thought in Amalia's head with only a look.

"You'll…be fine?" Amalia repeated. "And so will my people? But how?"

The doll gave a slow nod.

"Why are you telling me this?" Amalia asked. "Is there something you want from me?"

Another nod.

Back on the shore, Sora and Jasmine were easily able to locate the Keyhole by following the cords attached to the clamps. "It IS the Heart of the World!" Sora realized as the Keyhole glimmered into shape before him. He looked to Jasmine; "Are you ready?"

"If you are," she replied.

She placed her hands upon the wall, calling upon all the light she could muster to feed into the Keyhole, willing the wounds in the world to be repaired. Sora pointed the Keyblade at the Keyhole, and a beam of light connected the weapon to the Heart, closing it off from the clock's draw. Sora attempted to move his blade away, but as soon as he did, he could feel the lock that made up the Keyhole beginning to shift back open; the clock was strong. So long as Sora kept the Keyblade trained on its target, the lock would remain closed.

At last, no one else came down through the passage. Yugo looked to the clock, which was beginning to shake.

"I DON'T THINK THAT'S A GOOD IDEA," Papyrus told him. "THERE ISN'T ANY MORE TIME!"

"But our friends – " Yugo protested.

Papyrus envisioned letting Yugo enter the clock to save Stork and Ruby. Immediately following that was the image of the clock exploding with all three inside. "THEY WILL FIND A WAY!" Papyrus insisted. "BUT I HAVE TO MAKE SURE YOU'RE SAFE!" He grabbed Yugo by the hand, running with him through the portal.

"WAIT!" Yugo cried. "AMALIA! AMALIA?"

He realized, as he was dragged through his own portal, that Amalia was nowhere in sight. She must have left with the evacuees, Yugo thought. That would only make sense.

Then the portal closed, leaving Papyrus and Yugo to stand with the great crowd of evacuees.

Sora and Jasmine could both feel the shaking of the clock, but neither could step away from the Keyhole, they knew, until the clock had been destroyed. "Jasmine," Sora called out, "I'm sorry! I didn't think it would have to end like this!"

"I'm all right," Jasmine called back to him. "I know what I have to do. I'm sorry it has to end this way for you."

"I know what I have to do, too," Sora replied. "At least we got to spend our last moments with each other. That's good in a way, isn't it?"

"It is," Jasmine confirmed.

Each felt a single tear escape their eyes. "I guess this is goodbye," Sora realized. "Our adventure is over."

"It was a grand one," Jasmine told him.

Inside the clock, Stork and Ruby rushed to each other. "What next?" Ruby asked.

"We got everything," Stork told her, stumbling due to the now violent trembling of the immense machine. "It's over. All that's left is…the kaboom."

"Stork," Ruby squeaked, "I'm so sorry this is how it had to go!"

"Don't be," Stork told her. "It really should have just been me!" But she was right, he realized. It had taken him longer than he'd thought to do his half of the work; she'd sped it along. Had it just been him, the results might not have been so favorable.

"Stork, I…" Ruby swallowed hard. The shaking was now so violent, it was hard for either to stay on their feet. "I'm glad I met you!"

"I'm glad I met you too," Stork admitted.

Ruby rushed forward to envelop Stork in a hug, which he emphatically returned. They clutched onto each other tightly, eyes closed, as the rumbling reached its pinnacle.

From far outside the sanctuary, the evacuees could all hear the echoing sound, accompanied by a rough quake of the ground:

BOOM.

Up until that point, though worries and fears had seized him, Papyrus still had truly believed that Sora, Jasmine, Stork, and Ruby would be able to make a last-minute escape. But the clock had just exploded, and his friends were nowhere to be found. Had he stifled their chances by dragging Yugo through the portal instead of letting him go after anyone else? He quivered, and tears poured from his sockets.

"It's all right," Yugo told Papyrus, squeezing his hand. "It isn't your fault. They did what they had to do to save us."

"I REALLY THOUGHT…THAT THEY WOULD MAKE IT…" Papyrus choked.

"Amalia?" Armand's voice cut through the crowd. "AMALIA! HAS ANYONE SEEN AMALIA?"

Yugo immediately let go of Papyrus' hand, terror blanketing him. "I thought she got out safely!" he cried, rushing to Armand. "Oh, no. Oh, no, no no…Amalia…"

Within the sanctuary, all was still. The scattered remains of the clock – millions of tiny pieces – littered the ground and sank into the water. The Keyhole shimmered, finally free of the pressure of the clock, able to seal itself for good and take Jasmine's offering of light to replace the Wakfu that had already been stolen.

A great bundle of vines covered the Tree of Life, shielding it. The vines peeled away, revealing the Tree to be unharmed. Next to it stood Amalia, who looked blankly ahead, her eyes radiating light.

Amalia was transported onto the shore, where three other bundles of vines were located within the vicinity of each other. These were bundles the Tree of Life had made, stepping into her to take control of her body once again, as it had done six years ago when Nox had first brought his clock to the Sadida Kingdom. That was how it had protected itself. But it had also read Amalia's mind, knowing there were others that needed to be saved.

Amalia – or, more correctly, Amalia's body, inhabited by the Tree – touched the first and largest bundle of vines, and it unraveled, revealing Ruby and Stork caught in their tight embrace and trembling. As soon as the light poured in upon both of them, they opened their eyes.

"I think we're okay," Ruby said shakingly, disentangling herself from Stork and backing away.

"We're alive," Stork cried, looking her up and down to make sure nothing was harmed. "WE'RE NOT DOOMED!"

"Amalia!" Ruby rushed to the shell of Amalia, arms outstretched to give her a hug of thankfulness. "You saved us!"

Amalia's body put up a hand, warning Ruby to stay back.

"O…kay?" Ruby replied, watching the shell approach the next bundle of vines.

"I…don't think that's Amalia," Stork realized.

The Tree, acting through Amalia, next let down the vines that cocooned up against the sanctuary wall. Jasmine was released, turning to face her rescuer in confusion. "Amalia?"

The princess' body shook its head.

"Then who – " Jasmine began to ask.

The Tree approached the last bundle, touching it and causing it to unravel, freeing Sora.

"AMALIA!" Sora cried. "You…you just shielded us from the entire explosion! How'd you do that?"

"It isn't her," Jasmine told Sora. "I'm…not sure who it is."

"But it is definitely NOT Amalia," Stork confirmed as he and Ruby approached the others.

Sora tilted his head at the Tree in Amalia's body. "Well, uh, whoever you are…thanks."

There was a flash of light; the glow left Amalia's eyes, and her soul took control once more. "The Tree of Life says you're welcome," Amalia said cheerfully.

"Is it you this time?" Sora asked.

"It's me," Amalia confirmed.

"How'd you do that?" Sora asked.

"A long time ago," Amalia told him, "the Tree of Life acted through my body to fight Nox when he first came to this kingdom. The same thing just happened now. The Tree needed to protect itself…and it saw, through me, that you all needed to be protected, too." She turned to look at the Tree. "THANK YOU!" she called to it, waving.

"THANK YOU!" Sora, Ruby, Stork, and Jasmine chorused, waving as well.

From the distance, Amalia thought she could see the weathered doll nod again.

Outside, Yugo sat forlornly on a large stone, head in hands. "Amalia…" he choked. "I thought…"

Papyrus hovered over him, not sure what to say.

"This is YOUR fault!" Armand accused, storming toward the pair. "You two were supposed to make sure everyone got out safely! And you let my sister DIE!"

"I'm…so sorry…" Yugo whimpered, beginning to cry.

"I THOUGHT SHE HAD ALREADY GOTTEN OUT," Papyrus added, his own tears not yet subsided.

Then there came the calls from a distance:

"Yugo!"

"Papyrus!"

"YUGO!"

"PAPYRUS!"

Those addressed turned to see Amalia, Sora, Jasmine, Ruby, and Stork barreling toward them.

"A…Amalia!" Yugo stood, rushing toward the group.

"SEE?" Papyrus told Yugo as he jogged alongside him, his long strides soon outpacing him. "I KNEW THEY WOULD MAKE IT!"

When they met, Yugo, Papyrus, Amalia, Sora, Jasmine, and Ruby collapsed into a group hug, laughing. Stork stood back and watched for a moment before shrugging and joining in.

"Amalia!" Armand gasped. "You're safe!"

Amalia wormed her way out of the hug, glaring at her brother. "I saw you scolding them!" she barked. "Were you being hard on them?"

"I thought their carelessness let you die!" Armand told her.

Amalia reached up and slapped him hard. "If they had forced me out of there," she growled, "the Tree of Life wouldn't have been able to protect itself or any of the rest of them!"

"She saved all of us!" Sora insisted once the hug broke up.

"Well, technically it was the Tree," Amalia clarified, "but then again, it wouldn't have been able to do that if I weren't there, so really, it was me who saved everyone, wasn't it? Not that I like to brag." She turned back to Sora and Jasmine. "Oh, and while the Tree was in me, it let me feel the world. Whatever you two did, it worked. Some people might be a little drained for a few days, but we'll all be okay."

"Good," Sora sighed. "Everything's gonna be just fine."

...

Everything being just fine was the truth for those whose goal had been to protect the World of Twelve. For the WHAM ARMY, however, it was another story.

Vexen was alerted to the sounds of several pairs of feet barging into his laboratory, most likely from opening a Corridor directly there instead of taking the rollercoaster. "So you're back," he grumbled as he turned the corner. "You won't BELIEVE the aggravation we – "

He beheld the sight of the Huntsman holding up Mozenrath, Mim supporting Ragdoll, and the others crowding around. "WHAT HAPPENED HERE?" Vexen barked.

"Ragdoll – Peter – has been poisoned with a very potent venom," the Huntsman explained. "But more importantly…" He nearly faltered on these words. "Mozenrath spent a great amount of his life force reversing time. I fear he is close to – "

"Don't say it," Mozenrath muttered; he'd finally given in and let his eyes close.

"Bring them this way!" Vexen beckoned. "Quickly, quickly!"

He ushered the group to bring Mozenrath and Ragdoll to where three cots had been set up for medical emergencies. The Huntsman lay Mozenrath in one while Mim transferred Peter to another.

"Now out with you, all of you!" Vexen snapped. "I won't be able to assess or cure them with YOU hovering over my shoulder!"

"I wish to stay near him," the Huntsman stated calmly.

"I SAID OUT!" Vexen yelled. "Do NOT make me use force against you!"

The Huntsman, Yzma, Aghoul, Mim, Wuya, Roman, Snatcher, Rémington, and Grany shuffled out into the main room of the laboratory, leaving Vexen alone with the patients in the medical bay.

For a long while, they remained there, standing in silence. It occurred to some that they had not yet selected a substitute leader in Mozenrath's absence, but those who remembered it forced the thought away. No one cared anymore.

...

A/N: While Zevon is taken from the "Wicked World" Descendants shorts, he is rather an AU version here. "Descendants" is not going to happen as per canon. This Zevon has had a very different life and is a bit older (in his thirties) for story reasons, but character-wise, I intend him to be the same Zevon that is known and loved by Descendants followers, and yes, his parentage is still the same.


	45. The Diagnosis

45\. The Diagnosis

Silence.

That was all that reigned over the laboratory for a heavy while. All-consuming silence. The Huntsman, Yzma, Archibald Snatcher, Roman Torchwick, Wuya, Ayam Aghoul, Mad Madam Mim, Rémington Smisse, and Grany Smisse had started out standing in this silence, but as time passed, most gravitated to either leaning against a wall or sitting on one of the chairs or stools that served as seats for those working in the lab.

Then Mim broke it: "I'm bored."

"You would be," Yzma sighed.

"Well, he's not going to get any less of however dead he is just because we're all standing around not doing anything," Mim pointed out.

"I agree," Rémington said casually as Grany nodded.

"She has a point!" Aghoul agreed.

The rest refused to comment.

"I assume my brother and I are officially part of your alliance now," Rémington said. "I would like to be shown around our new base of operations." He looked to Mim with doe eyes. "Especially by a deliciously ugly and magical tour guide."

"Oh, stop flattering me, you," Mim replied, waving her hands to brush off the "compliment." "Just follow me, and try not to do anything stupid."

"Did you forget who you were talking to?" Grany sighed as he leapt to Rémington's shoulder. Mim marched out of the lab, skipping on every few steps, and Rémington followed gracefully, his brother perched atop him and his cape billowing behind.

Aghoul, in the meantime, summoned up a Corridor of Darkness.

"Aaaaaand where do you think YOU'RE going?" Roman asked.

"I'm helping, thank you very much," Aghoul said before disappearing into the Corridor without a trace.

The rest were downright miserable. It was easy enough for Mim and Aghoul not to grieve; it wasn't in their nature. And if you had asked, the Huntsman, Yzma, Wuya, Snatcher, and Roman wouldn't have said it was in theirs either. But it weighed on them that one of their closest friends, the founding member of their group, was leaning over the threshold of death's doorstep. And whenever it occurred to them that yet another acquaintance they were fond of, whose banter seemed to light up the room, was potentially growing close to the same fate.

It became clear after a quarter of an hour that Vexen was not coming back to brief them on the condition of either Mozenrath or Peter. "Perhaps," Snatcher suggested, "it is not in our best interest to loiter after all. Time still passes, after all. There are duties to be looked after."

"Yeah," Roman agreed. "Duties like telling Gar what happened to his boyfriend. He's not gonna take that well. It should prooooooobably be me who does it."

"Given your history," Snatcher told Roman, "that does seem most suitable."

"Vexen did mention running into some sort of trouble while we were away," Yzma added. "One of us should probably figure out what that was about."

"The others probably witnessed it," Wuya suggested. "We should ask around."

As Roman, Snatcher, Wuya, and Yzma moved to walk out of the room, the latter cast a look over her shoulder at the Huntsman, who remained propped against the wall. "And you?" Yzma asked.

"The rest of you have regular maintenance under control," the Huntsman insisted. "I shall remain here until there is news or I am needed."

"You're only going to feel worse, you know."

"That is my business and mine alone, Yzma."

"And you're not the only one who would miss him."

"I am aware, Yzma."

Yzma sighed. She knew why the Huntsman wanted to be the one who remained. She dared not accuse him of love, knowing that was the wrong label altogether, but became aware that it was best just to leave him be. "I will inform you if you are needed," she said briskly before turning and leaving.

The Huntsman didn't move a muscle. He allowed himself to wonder, ever so casually, what would become of him if Mozenrath slipped so delicately out of his life. Life would certainly go on, and he would rise from the ashes. But it would be somewhat akin to having a second shadow, he thought rather poetically. Something that would follow him, remind him of its presence, but be resistant to conversation and touch, like it wasn't really there at all.

On her way out, Yzma passed the recall crystal for Xerxes' collar lying on a side table. She hadn't yet found any evidence that Xerxes had gotten himself into irreparable mischief while his master was away, but somehow, she felt it was more than likely. She picked up the crystal, casually holding it in the air and calling out, "RETURN!"

...

"And that's why I think the oversaturation of patriarchal themes in our media has fostered an age of society that isn't as enlightened as its members seem to think it is," Ainsley was explaining. "Don't get me wrong, we've come a long way. But I still think if we really want to achieve equality, we have to admit that we're flawed and still have room to improve."

Ainsley had given Xerxes a lot to think about. He took a moment before opening his mouth. "Ford think – "

And then he disappeared.

Ainsley flinched. It took them a moment to realize that, yes, the talking eel had vanished right in front of their eyes with no explanation. Had he been a hallucination all along? The result of sleep deprivation? Or did he have his own strange way of exiting the closet that was as supernatural as his flying and speaking abilities? Ainsley didn't know. All they could muster to react to the situation was a forlorn "…Okay."

...

Xerxes popped back into the Cyclonian warship in front of Yzma. "Don't even tell me," Yzma sighed. "I do not even WANT to know what you did."

"Ford did a lot, actually," Xerxes told her.

Yzma sighed. "All right, I'll bite. Who's Ford?"

"Ford me. New name Ford."

"No, it's not," Yzma groaned as she stalked away. "You're still Xerxes."

"All right," Xerxes resolved. "Name Xerxes!" Finally, he thought, things could get back to normal.

He wondered where Mozenrath was. Yzma had left without telling him, and she hadn't seemed in the mood to speak to him. He took off to make a flight through the castle, completely overlooking the idea that Mozenrath might have been resting further back in the laboratory.

...

Out of thankfulness for those who had arrived to join the Sadida's battle against Qilby and joy that the only casualty had been the throne chamber, Oakheart pronounced a great celebratory feast for anyone within the kingdom's walls. Pandawas, people of Bonta, guards of Breta, and the military elites of New Sufokia lined up around a multitude of tables that had been situated outside, picking food out of rich buffets. One table was dedicated to elites: Oakheart, Amalia, Armand, Adal, Yugo, and Melo. Pandiego tried to talk himself into an invitation at this table, and Amalia argued in his favor, but Armand and Adal were louder about excluding him. And for all they had done to gather the armies, Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, Jasmine, and Stork were still seen as just five among the masses of heroes that day, so they were relegated to another table of their own. They had no problem with this, enjoying each other's company and the good food.

As Melo tried to convince Oakheart that making happiness mandatory was the only secret of success to a good kingdom and Adal shot Armand thinly veiled complaints about the Sadida prince's breath, Yugo and Amalia, the latter once again dressed in her best formal wear and headdress, looked over to the table of their five newest friends, who were laughing together loudly.

"Yugo!" Amalia whispered. "What do you say we ditch this table and go sit with them?"

"Sounds like fun!" Yugo whispered back.

They slowly lowered themselves beneath the table, crawling in between the legs of Oakheart, Armand, Melo, and Adal (the latter two of whom were beginning to get into a heated debate that almost seemed to concern which would be first to conquer the entire World of Twelve, hypothetically speaking, of course) and sneaking along the ground on their hands and knees.

"All right, this was a bad idea," Amalia groaned. "I'm getting my clothes all dirty! And crawling under that table messed up my hair!"

"You look fine to me," Yugo told her. It then occurred to him that perhaps now was the moment he should get his feelings off his chest. "Amalia? Before we go over to their table, can we make a detour? I…have some things I want to say to just you."

"Of course!" Amalia tilted her head toward one of the buffet tables. "Let's go under there. It isn't as though my hair can get any worse, after all."

Being beneath a buffet table with Amalia staring directly at his face in close quarters made Yugo feel more unsure about what he wanted to say. His heartbeat quickened under the circumstances, and words were hard to form. But he knew he had to say it eventually, and he'd already made her crawl all the way over to the buffet line. "Amalia," he choked out, "I just wanted to say that…well…you're one of my best friends, and I'm glad I could have this adventure with you."

"You're one of my best friends too!" Amalia said sweetly. "I'm very glad we could share this!"

"But…it's more than that," Yugo admitted. "I really like you, Amalia. As a friend…AND more. What I'm trying to say is…I have strong feelings for you. The romantic kind."

Amalia gasped. "Yugo - !"

"And I know it's foolish to think you could ever think the same about me," Yugo went on. "You're already old enough to be queen if your father abdicates and Armand doesn't take the throne, and I'm still not aging. I know I have to grow up eventually. Qilby and Grougaloragran did. But I don't know how long it will take me. The point is, even though you don't see me in the way I see you, I thought you should know how I felt. Because…I want to be your friend for a long time, no matter what, Amalia, and I didn't want any secrets like that to get between us."

"Oh, Yugo…" Amalia clasped her hands in front of her heart and smiled. "I'm very glad you were able to tell me that. And so flattered! I really wish I could say I felt the same about you, but…you are so young still. It might have been possible when we first met, but now, you are right. I just can't see you that way. I'm sorry. I would say I could maybe wait until you did grow older and see how I felt then, but without knowing how Eliatropes grow up, I don't know how long I would have to wait, and I could meet all sorts of people in between then."

"I understand," Yugo said sincerely. It did hurt to hear out loud, but it was the truth, and he knew it.

"But I do still want to be your friend if you still want to be mine," Amalia went on. "You make me so happy whenever you're around. You make me feel like I can do anything."

"And you always make me smile," Yugo replied.

"I hope you can find someone to be with in the romantic way someday," Amalia expressed. "You deserve someone very special."

"And you deserve someone truly extraordinary," Yugo said with a nod. "I hope you find your prince."

"We'll have to go to each other's weddings, then. Make sure you dress your best for mine! I'm not having a thing be out of place!" She winked.

"I will," Yugo promised. "You can dress however you want for mine."

They shared a light laugh before Yugo suggested, "Let's go and join the others now."

It was back to crawling, going unseen by all but a few very confused attendees of the feast. When they reached the table of the five, they rose up to sit down.

"AND WHEN UNDYNE LOOKED UP," Papyrus concluded, "SHE WAS SURROUNDED BY BONES! AND THAT WAS HOW I CLAIMED MY THIRTIETH VICTORY IN OUR SPARRING!" This earned him applause from the rest of the table. "OH, HI, YUGO!" he said when he realized who had arrived. "HI, AMALIA! I MUST THANK YOU FOR YOUR PART IN THROWING THIS FEAST. I THINK I'M GETTING MORE AND MORE USED TO HUMAN FOOD EVERY DAY, AND THIS IS A VERY FINE CULINARY EXAMPLE! MY BROTHER COULD REALLY LEARN FROM THIS!"

"Brothers," Amalia joked. "You always want them to learn to be better cooks, less lazy, and less rude. But they never do, do they?"

"ALL YOU CAN DO IS LOVE THEM DESPITE THEIR MANY, MANY FLAWS," Papyrus concurred.

Yugo nodded, thinking of his own brother, still carrying out his own personal business somewhere in the world where he didn't want to be found. Though he didn't say it out loud, there were many things that still stung when thinking about Adamaï, but he had to agree: he loved Adamaï anyway. "So what's next for you?" Yugo asked.

"That's what we're trying to figure out," Sora admitted. "After this feast, we actually probably have to get going."

"Already?" Amalia said mournfully.

"If Hades really thinks he left this world to get destroyed," Sora explained, "then no one from Maleficent's team OR from Mozenrath's team is going to be back for a while. If we want to stop them, we're going to have to look on another world."

"That makes sense," Yugo agreed.

"We still have no idea what he's doing," Stork pointed out, "and that scares me."

"Well, we know he's trying to kill dragons," Sora reminded him. "At least, that big scary guy with the skull helmet is. He did the same thing when Maleficent turned into a dragon back on Atmos. And that's about all anything they did have in common. That and leaving destruction wherever they go."

"It could just be random destruction," Stork suggested.

"WHAT WOULD THEY EVEN GET OUT OF RANDOM DESTRUCTION?" Papyrus asked.

"Trust me," Stork told him, "some people just want to see everything go up in flames for fun."

"Random conquest would make more sense for Mozenrath," Jasmine suggested. "That's always what he's been after. Power over other kingdoms."

"That would make sense for Snatcher, too," Sora pointed out. "After he went to all that trouble for a White Hat. What about that other guy? Ayam Aghoul?"

"Maybe he's trying to get revenge on the world for having the worst pun in existence for a name," Stork groaned.

"Remind me not to introduce you to my sister if you're not a fan of puns," Ruby muttered.

"Aghoul wants everything," Jasmine stated. "Revenge, power, destruction, and as many innocent women as he can trick into being his wives. I wouldn't be surprised by anything with him."

"Roman said, once, that he was with the people he was with because they were going to change the world and he couldn't stop them," Ruby recalled. "But now he's with a completely different group of people. I don't know what he wants when it's all up to him."

"Maybe it's not up to him," Sora suggested. "Maybe it's up to them, and he's just following along again."

"Not according to what he said on the Crimson Claws," Ruby informed him.

"So maybe it's just as easy as random conquest," Sora concluded, putting both hands behind his head and swaying slightly as he reclined.

"Then what did he want the Eliacube for?" Amalia asked.

"Well," Jasmine recalled, "back home, he would never launch an invasion without some kind of magical advantage. A wind jackal, a monster from another world, or his own personal sun. The Eliacube can definitely be that for him."

"Wait!" Ruby cried. "I just realized something!"

"What?" Sora asked.

"All the other times we ran into him or anyone he was working with," Ruby recalled, "they took something. Something big and important. Sora, you said they took the Cornerstone of Light from your friends. Qrow said they were after Dust back on Remnant. In Knightdock, Undyne said Neo took something out of the evidence room at the police station, and we guessed they were the six souls of the kids Asgore…uh…well, you know what those were. After that was Atmos, and they fought us for that big crystal and won. Then we didn't see them for a while, but now there's this with the Eliacube. That's at least five powerful things they took. Maybe they're planning to put all that power together and make some kind of super magic weapon out of it."

"That does sound like Mozenrath," Jasmine admitted.

"Putting the 'doom' back into 'doomsday device,' I guess," Stork added.

"We could ask the hourglass what he's building," Sora suggested, "but I don't think we'll get a straight answer."

"It's still worth a shot," Ruby encouraged.

"What about you?" Sora turned to Yugo and Amalia. "Do you wanna come with us? If you want a really big adventure, well, we're on one!"

"Thank you," Amalia replied, "but I think I have a little too much to take care of here. Someone has to make sure Ombrage stays locked up. And this kingdom won't run itself, you know."

"Your dad and brother will run it," Stork pointed out.

"WELL, THEY WON'T DO IT RIGHT!" Amalia yelled. "Besides, I'm a little adventured out after all that."

"And I've already been away from Papa for too long," Yugo added. "A break would be nice. But if you ever really need us, then don't be afraid to come back."

"By all means!" Amalia agreed.

"We'll keep you in our hearts," Sora promised.

"So what were you all talking about before we showed up?" Amalia asked.

"Papyrus was telling us stories from when he was training for the royal guard of his kingdom," Jasmine explained.

"That sounds like fun!" Yugo chirped. "Do you have any more?"

"AS A MATTER OF FACT, I DO!" Papyrus announced. "THIS ONE IS CALLED…'THE TALE OF THE GUARD-IN-TRAINING AND THE ANNOYING DOG WHO STOLE HIS LEFT BOOT'!"

Papyrus launched into a tale of chasing a fluffy white dog throughout the underground village of Snowdin, and laughs were had by all.

...

A loud knock rapped on the door to Garfield and Peter's apartment. Garfield, who had been watching videos on his scroll while reclining on the bed, rolled off into a standing position and made for the door.

The knocking came again, but louder. "I'm coming," Garfield groaned. "Just gimme a second, will ya?"

"Don't make me shoot through the handle," Roman's voice sounded from the other side. "Because you know I WILL do that."

Garfield swung the door open. "What's up?"

"So, uh, I don't really know how to tell you this," Roman began, looking just a little nervous, "but Peter's kind of holed up in the med bay because he got stabbed by a guy with a deadly scorpion tail. Okay, I guess that was actually really easy to tell you."

"WHAT?" Garfield replied incredulously.

"Yeah," Roman confirmed. "Vexen's not really taking visitors right now, so you're not gonna actually be able to see him, but I just thought you might wanna know – "

"I don't CARE what Vexen doesn't want me to do!" Garfield shoved Roman aside and broke into a sprint down the hall.

"Well," Roman muttered to himself, "he took that slightly better than I thought he would."

...

As Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, Stork, and Jasmine approached the great doors to the Radiant Garden castle, they were greeted by the sight of Ienzo standing atop a wobbly ladder in order to magically affix gemstones of various colors to the archway.

Stork squeaked before rushing to grasp the ladder, holding it steady. "You DO know you're not supposed to stand on the top step, right?"

"I'll be fine," Ienzo insisted. "If I fall, I can just catch myself with an Aeroga."

"What are you doing?" Ruby called up to him.

"Putting protective stones on the entryway," Ienzo answered. "We've had some trouble with intruders lately, so we're fortifying the castle's magical defenses to prevent people from getting in and out with Corridors of Darkness or other forms of teleportation. Just so you know in case you ever try to teleport in. I don't see why you of all people would, but you never know."

"What happened?" Ruby asked.

"You can ask the others," Ienzo replied. "Everyone's back to base, and they're all hanging around different parts of the castle. I believe Riku and Kairi are in the library; Jaune, Ren and Nora are exploring the lower levels; and Aladdin and Genie are helping Sadira put the hourglass together in the spare room adjacent to the chapel, since Merlin abandoned that project to help Aerith and me increase defenses. It's basically down time."

"Thanks for the news!" Sora called up to Ienzo. "Good luck with the security!"

As Sora, Papyrus, Jasmine, and Ruby strolled into the castle, Ienzo called down to Stork, "You really don't have to keep holding that ladder."

"Do you WANT head trauma from falling?"

"I'll cast Aeroga."

"IF your reflexes are that good."

Ienzo shrugged and continued to place gems.

Sora, Jasmine, Papyrus, and Ruby split up upon entry to the castle, each seeking out a different place to chill out. Sora made his way right to the library to find the other Destiny Islanders; Riku and Kairi were in heavy discussion at a table on the lower level – in soft tones, of course, since it was a library, after all.

"Hey!" Sora greeted, jogging over to the table.

"Sora!" Riku stood, opening his arms to get ready for the hug he knew was coming. Sora wrapped around him like paper on a present, delivering a kiss to Riku's lips as well. They held that stance for a good half minute before separating and taking seats at the table.

"So what were we talking about?" Sora asked.

"Something kind of serious," Riku told him. "Kairi and I both struggled a bit on our last missions when we were trying to keep the secret of where we came from."

"I didn't struggle so much," Kairi admitted, "but it sounded like Jaune really did."

"Actually, I had a bit of trouble with that myself," Sora stated. "It all got cleared up once I just…said where we were from."

"That's the funny thing," Riku went on. "The same thing happened in Kairi's case. And when my team showed Radiant Garden to the person we were traveling with, she understood immediately. So we were wondering…what if it isn't actually a big deal?"

"What's the worst that can happen if we just say where we're from?" Kairi added. "Probably that they won't believe us."

"I know there were all sorts of reasons for keeping the world order before," Sora mused, "but now that everything's growing closer together, that whole idea might be outdated. Maybe we all need to know each other is out there. I know I feel stronger knowing that I have friends on all different worlds. Maybe everyone else should get that same chance."

"Then let's do it!" Kairi insisted. "Next time, let's not hide it!"

"I still think we should be at least a little careful," Riku stated, "but I pretty much agree."

"I'm all for it!" Sora said with a nod.

"Great!" a fourth voice chimed in.

All three turned to look at who had spoken; Moana leaned out from behind a bookshelf and waved sheepishly. "Sorry," she said softly. "I was just looking around, and I didn't mean to listen in, but…I agree that the worlds should know about each other. If I'd have known all this was out here…!" She spread out her arms to indicate all of Radiant Garden.

"You haven't even seen the half of it," Riku reminded her with a smile.

Sora stood up and approached Moana. "It's nice to meet you," he said pleasantly, extending his right hand. "I'm Sora. Who are you?"

"I am Moana," she replied, putting her hand in his and shaking it firmly. "Master wayfinder of Motonui."

"She grew up on an island kind of like ours," Riku explained.

"Riku and Kairi told me the three of you were planning to build a raft to sail to faraway places," Moana informed Sora.

"Well, we kinda got our dose of adventure in a different way," Sora admitted. "What about you?"

"Sort of the same story," Moana told him. "I had always wanted to sail beyond my island's reef, but I only ever got the chance when I was called upon to basically save the world. And now I want to help you." She had told Riku and Kairi earlier, but it bore repeating to Sora: "I have heard about your quests to stop evil, and I want to become part of your team. Permanently."

"The one thing standing in her way is the people of her village," Riku pointed out, "including her family. They might find the idea of other worlds a little bit harder to understand. But we're putting together a small group to talk to them about what's going on."

"Well, welcome to the team, Moana," Sora told her. "I hope you can stay."

...

"And THEN," Ravess complained as she, Xayide, Yzma, and Wuya walked the halls of the fortress, "as if all that wasn't ENOUGH, when we got back, we discovered the real reason our home base had tried to kill Garfield."

"In his haste to collect the crystal," Xayide picked up, "Vexen left the base unguarded – "

"WELL, NOBODY ELSE VOLUNTEERED TO PICK UP THE SLACK!" Ravess barked.

"Including you," Xayide pointed out.

"We can fight about this later," Wuya hissed.

"Why do I get the feeling they're about to tell me someone else took over the base?" Yzma sighed.

"Someone else took over the base," Xayide and Ravess stated in unison.

"And his ship is still crashed into our west hangar," Ravess punctuated.

"Perfect," Yzma fumed. "Absolutely perfect! You know what? I shouldn't even be surprised! One of my best friends is dying, another fairly useful acquaintance may ALSO be dying, the ship was very nearly destroyed because it RAN OUT OF CRYSTAL, and we almost lost the entire thing to an invader whose ship put a dent in the side of our base! Go on! Tell me more good news! Did the base perhaps get caught in a meteor shower? Did one of you lose a leg in your battle and forget to tell me? Did Snipe clone himself?"

"Don't even joke," Ravess said with a shudder.

"The offender is locked up in our dungeons," Xayide explained, "if you wish to see him. At Vexen's behest, we held back from doling out any punishment until we could receive guidance from higher up the chain."

"At least tell us what kind of idiocy we're dealing with," Wuya demanded.

"He was easily captured by Vexen," Xayide described, "so obviously not very powerful. He put far too much stock into the potions he carried instead. He seemed to be trying to cut a traditional villainous figure, wearing a long black trenchcoat with a high collar. He also seemed unable to pronounce many words. He claimed his name was 'Zevon.'"

Yzma stopped midstride. "Z-Z-Z-Z-Z-Z-ZEEEVOOOOON?" she sputtered.

"Is something wrong?" Wuya asked.

"How was it spelled?" Yzma asked, eyes wide.

"He didn't SPELL it for us, for goodness' sake!" Ravess huffed.

"You find the name familiar," Xayide realized.

"I…" Yzma faltered. It was a very common name, she realized. In all the multiverse, there had to be more than one Zevon. Hundreds. Thousands of Zevons. All the same, the name gave her pause. She had seen it a grand total of once, when she had been stitching it in pink script on the edge of a purple blanket. "I knew someone with the name, once, yes. How old was he?"

"He looked to be around thirty," Xayide answered, "but these days, one can never tell who is immortal and who is using glamour."

"Very true," Yzma agreed. Thirty. That would match. "You said he is in the prison cells below?"

"Might I ask who exactly you think he is?" Ravess asked.

"No one," Yzma said quickly. If he really was no one to her, she thought, she would rather keep this to herself. If he was the Zevon she knew, however, the truth would become more dicey. "I simply want a word with him about crashing his ship into our property."

"I'll go with you," Wuya volunteered.

"No, no!" Yzma put up both hands. "I'll take care of this on my own, thank you very much." She took a tentative step backward, then another before turning on a heel and bolting down the hallway.

"Something is suspicious with her," Ravess remarked with a raised eyebrow.

"She knows him," Xayide said with an affirmative nod.

"She'll have to come out with the truth sometime," Wuya resolved.

Yzma paused outside the door to the prison block, taking a deep breath and gathering her thoughts. Hundreds, thousands of Zevons. It could be nobody. She pried the door open and strode inside, heels clicking rhythmically across the floor, the very picture of confidence from looks alone.

He was kept in the furthest cell, where he sat on the hard wooden bench set in the wall, glaring at the iron bars that forged the front wall of his enclosure. Upon hearing the noise of Yzma's shoes, he proclaimed, "A-HA! So I get to see the face of my jailer!" He got up and rushed to the bars, gripping them as he looked out to see who approached. "You will regret the day you ever thought you could imprison ZEVON!"

He thought nothing of Yzma when he beheld her. For her, it was the opposite. When she looked at him, she saw, in almost perfect detail, the face of a man she'd known once for a week and whose name she'd never bothered to remember. So it wasn't no one after all. "I hear you attempted to take over our base," she accused, trying not to let her guard down. "Starting by wrecking your ship against it."

"I didn't mean to crash my ship!" Zevon seethed. "That was purely accidential! What I DID mean to do was acquisition your lair as my own base of operationals!"

Xayide wasn't kidding about him mispronouncing words, Yzma thought. "I just have a few questions for you," she stated coldly. "After all, I am assuming you have quite the…reputation."

"Absitively!" Zevon confirmed.

"First off," Yzma asked, "what did you say your name was, again?"

"I AM ZEVON!" Zevon proclaimed. "Feared criminal among the worlds! Up-and-coming sorcerier! Master of potions!"

"They said you came in armed with several potions," Yzma grilled. "Were you stripped of them?"

"My belt is hanging on the wall behind you," Zevon grumbled. "They took it from me when they threw me in here. They LITERALLY THREW ME."

Yzma took the belt down from the wall, looking it over. Each potion on the belt was labeled with a piece of tape bearing a different word, such as "Shrink!", "Reverse!", or "EXPLOSIONATE!"

"An impressive array of effects, provided they all work," Yzma commented as she reverently hung the belt back up.

"Oh, they all work," Zevon assured her. "I've tested them."

"Now, for the real question," Yzma said. "Who are you?"

"I told you!" Zevon declared. "I am ZEVON – "

"Yes, yes, I got that part. But how did you get here? Where did you come from? What is your goal?"

"Ah, I see!" Zevon realized. "You want my life story! Well, settle back and prepare to be dazzle-razzled!" He stepped back from the bars in order to better use his arms to gesture throughout his story. "I came from very humble origenesis," he began. "I was found left on the doorstep of a well-meaning couple of villagers, with nothing but the basket I was tucked in and a purple blanket wrapped around me with my name on it. The couple who took me in tried to raise me right and teach me moralities. But what they didn't know is I WAS DESTINED TO BE BAD TO THE BONE!

"I began to study the dark arts in secret! I had no magical abilifiers, but I quickly took to potionmaking. And I excellerated! Soon, I grew powerful enough to transformgure both of my parents into a filthy rat and a lumpy toad! Leaving them behind, I set out to make my way in the world!

"But as it turned out, my destiny was not limitationed to a single world! No! In my studies, I came across arcanate lore that spoke of transportalation between different worlds! Especially plants that bore 'magic beans' that allowed for passablage between the worlds once and only once! I acquisitioned five beans through heavy bartrading and distilled them into five potions that would let me cross from world to world. Drinking the first, I took my first step into the unknown." Zevon paused a moment to recollect his trip into the dimension populated by horrific beings of geometric shapes and conglomerate body parts, presided over by a loudmouthed dictator shaped like a one-eyed triangle. "It…could have gone better.

"But as I broadened the scope of my travels, so did I broaden the scope of my evil! I wreakaged havoc on many worlds, learning new potions as I went along! True, I never actually conquestered anything, and the fame I gained was fleeting, mostly getting me known as 'that trenchcoat guy,' but I left a MARK as I tried!

"And that brings us to today," Zevon concluded. "It is only a matter of time before I find my way out of your cell. I've broken out of tough prisons before! And I'll do it again! And when I do, you will all be sorry that you messed with ZEVON!"

He waited for Yzma to respond. She didn't. She simply stared at him, bug-eyed. "I see my story has impressioned you," he boasted. "You are no doubt enthrused by my resume (which he pronounced "re-zoom")."

Yzma shook her head to clear it. "I can assure you," she stated, trying to keep her voice calm, "that isn't it. You see, there is a bit of a…complication here. Your homeworld…that would be what they refer to colloquially as the 'Empire of the Sun,' is it not?"

"Hey!" Zevon barked. "How did you know that?"

"Well, you see…"

She remembered laying the basket down, telling the infant inside to be quiet or else, turning and fleeing into the night.

"…You're my son," Yzma confessed.

Neither spoke for a while. Then Zevon broke out into laughter. "I see your little trick!" he accused. "You're trying to get me to trust you with outlanding claims!"

"Your name was stitched into the blanket with pink thread," Yzma deadpanned. "You have a near-elliptical birthmark on your stomach, and the basket was also bright purple. I know, because I'm the one who put you in it, and I'm the one who put your name on the blanket."

Zevon gaped. "You…are either psychical, or you really are my mom."

"My name is Yzma," Yzma introduced. "Thirtyish years ago, I was rising in the ranks of the palace staff of the Empire. Where once I had a slew of men and women trying to break down my door to spend the night with me – "

"Ewwwww." Zevon shuddered.

" – Things had considerably slowed down in that department," Yzma went on. "You were the product of a night with a man who I knew for a week and never bothered to contact again afterward. And you were…shall we say…an accident."

"Is there a reason you're telling me the story of my concepting?" Zevon rolled his eyes.

"Well, it's because – I mean – I didn't want to deal with a child, you know!" Yzma sputtered. "Changing diapers, being thrown up on, having to sing cheerful little songs about talking animals and the alphabet!"

"Who DOES want to deal with that?" Zevon agreed.

"But after letting you fester within me for nine months, I couldn't just – I mean, I thought about it, because I'd already learned that murder is a time-efficient way to solve problems – but I couldn't! You know!"

"So what you're saying," Zevon realized, "is that you abandonated me because you never wanted me but you couldn't bring yourself to do me in."

"It was nothing personal," Yzma said dryly. Then, with a shrug, "I'm actually somewhat proud. You've managed to become an ineffectual villain, but an ambitious one at least, and can I really ask for much more than that?"

"You, too, are familiar with the schematics of evil!" Zevon realized. "You are one of the villains who occupate this base!"

"That I am!" Yzma confirmed. "I am part of the WHAM ARMY!"

"The what army?"

"It's an acronym of the first letters of the founding members," Yzma sighed. "We are an organization dedicated to conquest and other various evils! Much like you, we have not yet conquered any territory that we've actually been able to KEEP, but we've wreaked enough havoc to be memorable at least. Plus, we throw a killer karaoke night. And I too am versed in the art of brewing potions, though mine are usually geared toward transfiguration."

"I turned out strangely same-ilar to you!" Zevon realized. "I, too, love karaoke!"

"You never needed me!" Yzma crowed. "You grew up perfectly evil all on your own!"

"If you're expecting me to be mad that you abandonated me," Zevon told her, "I'm honestly not. As you've pointed out, I never needed you. And admittancely, I would have done the same thing in your shoes that you did to me."

Yzma gave him a sarcastic glare. "If you ever became pregnant with a child."

"Yes! I mean no!"

"So," Yzma told him, "you and I…we're good." She waved her hand back and forth between them.

"We're very good," Zevon promised. "Aside from the fact that your friends are still holding me captive."

"How good did you say your conquest record was again?"

"I don't have one. But that is subjective to change!"

"Consider this," Yzma proposed, holding up her hands with palms flat out toward Zevon. "You and I join forces. You become part of my syndicate: the WHAM ARMY. Together, we can combine our forces of alchemy and potionmaking and our ambitions of conquest and destruction and become a force the WORLDS WILL FEAR!"

"I like the sounds of this!" Zevon admitted. "Perhaps it was fate that led me to crash into your fortress!"

"Of course, there is one condition," Yzma informed him. "If we're going to make this work, you're not allowed to try and get revenge on anyone who put you in here."

"Not even the loudmouth with the ice?" Zevon groaned.

"Not even the loudmouth with the ice," Yzma reiterated.

"Not even the big purple-haired one who THREW ME?"

"Not even the – " Yzma stopped herself. "Well, actually, Snipe is fair game. But NO ONE ELSE!"

Zevon reached his hand through the bars. "Then you have a deal, Mother!"

"Mother," Yzma repeated. "So long as you're not screaming for me to come check under your bed for monsters, I could get used to the sound of that."

She clasped his hand firmly.

...

Tyrian kicked, hissed, and spat as Hades dragged him back into the halls of Villain's Vale and ultimately threw him on his back on the floor. The Corridor behind them closed for good, and Tyrian tried in vain to leap up and claw at the air, hyperventilating.

"No," he muttered. "No, no, no, no, no…" He slowly turned to face Hades. "You," he growled. "You RUINED MY CHANCE TO CAPTURE THE GIRL WITH THE SILVER EYES!"

Tyrian lunged; Hades stood stock-still. Tyrian's stinger plunged deep into Hades' chest, to which Hades rolled his eyes. "You think POISON is gonna work on the lord of the DEAD?" the god scoffed. "I drink this stuff with breakfast."

Tyrian gave a wordless snarl as he withdrew the stinger.

"What is your DEAL with the silver-eyed girl?" Hades asked. "Did she eat your last cricket or something?"

"You don't understand," Tyrian whined. "My goddess instructed us all to find the silver-eyed girl and capture her on sight. Those eyes make her terribly powerful. Enough to defeat half this fortress in a single fell swoop."

"Given our track record against her," Hades pointed out, "I'm gonna have to say that's a no."

"My goddess wanted her brought back alive," Tyrian moaned. "There's still time! We can go back and find her!"

"There isn't time," Qilby chimed in. "The World of Twelve is soon to be nothing."

"But…if I don't bring her back…" Tyrian whimpered.

"I don't get you, y'know that?" Hades sighed. "You went into this whole mission to kill Mozzy. And you figured out how to do exactly that. I thought you'd be happy. And now you're having a panic attack over some kid with freaky eyes who we have seen do the exact OPPOSITE of wipe out half our forces at once MULTIPLE times. Can we focus on what matters here?"

"SHE MATTERS MORE!" Tyrian screamed. "SHE MATTERS MORE BECAUSE MY GODDESS ORDERED HER ALIVE!"

"And another thing," Hades huffed. "Stop referring to your obviously mortal boss as your 'goddess' to my face. Do you even know how demeaning that is?"

"She is so much more than mortal," Tyrian said wistfully, a smile crawling over his face as he thought of her.

"I doubt it," Hades said dismissively. "What is she, the scorpion queen? Y'know what? I'd actually like to size her up. Show me this 'goddess' of yours. Prove to me that she's really THAT powerful and THAT worth throwing a tantrum like a two-year-old over."

"I'd do so gladly, but I would prefer to speak to your leader first."

The voice came from behind Hades and Qilby; Tyrian gasped, his heart nearly stopping. All turned their attentions to the source of the voice. Hades and Qilby didn't know what to make of it at first. A black sphere hovered in the midst of the corridor, and it might have been mistaken for glass if not for the six ropy red tentacles that dangled from its lower half, twitching and proving signs of life.

"Come closer," the sphere beckoned with a deep, feminine voice. "I promise it won't bite."

"MY GODDESS!" Tyrian took several clumsy steps toward the sphere, falling on his knees before it. "I can't apologize enough. The silver-eyed girl was there, in my grasp…but…but now you won't have to worry about her anymore! She is dead! There is no way she cannot be!"

"Enough, Tyrian," the female voice commanded.

Another voice came from the sphere, this one male and lilting: "You see, this is why you never send an amateur to do a professional's job."

A deep male voice: "Don't patronize Tyrian. Infighting is the last thing we need."

"What the me?" Hades cautiously stepped closer to the sphere; Qilby followed gingerly. As Hades neared, he could see the face of a woman filling the interior of the sphere. She was pale as snow, with jet-black markings on her face reminiscent of veins. Her hair, the same hue as her face, was swept back into an enormous bun. Her eyes were dark throughout: the whites were black, and the irises slightly brighter, reddish.

"This is merely a communication device," the woman stated, guessing at Hades' train of thought. "Not my true form. At the moment, I am worlds away. It had been a while since I dispatched Tyrian, and I decided it was time to check on the situation myself."

"And yet you're apparently too much of a VIP to appear in person," Hades scoffed.

"It's more that I'm very busy with plans regarding my own world," the woman explained. "Though, depending on what Tyrian has to report, that may change. Or perhaps you can explain to me what has transpired since last I saw Cinder Fall."

"She has been working with these…these monstrous geniuses," Tyrian babbled. "They all act under the orders of one called 'Maleficent.'" He giggled. "Cinder has even found a very close companion, my goddess. A paramour, if I'm not mistaken."

"Interesting," the woman replied, a calm smile upon her face. "I should like to know more. Would I be able to meet with this 'Maleficent'?"

"Malef runs on a tight schedule, babe," Hades informed the woman. "Buuuuuuut given just how bizarre this whole deal is, I think she just might be able to squeeze you in. You're connected to that whole relic-season-maiden business, right? Because Malef is considering putting stock in that."

"All the more reason I should speak with her," the woman stated.

"WE should speak with her," the lilting male voice corrected.

"That is right," the woman confirmed. "I am here with two of my companions. I have told the third to wait in his quarters until summoned, but perhaps he should be privy to this, given his history with Cinder."

"That lowlife ruffian?" the lilting male voice asked.

"He has potential," the deep voice grumbled. "But not yet our trust."

"Before this goes any further," Hades said, "I'm gonna need us to be on a first-name basis. Name's Hades. Lord of the Dead."

"An impressive title," the woman stated. "Perhaps there is even more to the ranks of this Maleficent than meet the eye."

"Anyway, this guy lookin' over my shoulder is Qilby," Hades went on. "That should do it for who's here. Now it's your turn."

"My name is Salem," the woman stated. "Currently seated beside me are my companions, Arthur Watts and Hazel Rainart."

The image inside the globe shifted momentarily, depicting a man with a thin, mustachioed face and close-cropped dark hair. "I must say, you cut a FASCINATING figure," the man with the lilting voice observed. "This intrigue grows deeper by the minute."

"Enough, Arthur," Salem commanded, and the globe's focus was brought back to her. "Also living within our quarters is one Mercury Black…shall we say a friend of Cinder's? He and Cinder used to travel with a third, but she has not shown her face since the fall of Vale. Victory seems to bring out the true nature of cowards. We have other ties that run deep through the veins of Remnant, which we will disclose should they become relevant. Is that satisfying enough for you?"

"It's a start," Hades replied. "Anyway, a deal's a deal. I'll let you meet the boss. Maybe, just maybe, we can all come to an arrangement or two."

"And what of me?" Tyrian asked meekly. "Do you wish me to return to Remnant?"

"Not yet," Salem stated. "I will decide where best you suit our plans once I have discussed matters with your new benefactor."

"Yes, my goddess," Tyrian said with a bowed head.

As Hades led the globe, which Salem informed him on the journey was known as a "Seer," toward Maleficent's current whereabouts, Qilby strode along out of sheer curiosity, and Tyrian picked himself up off the floor to trot along like an obedient dog.

...

Vexen gently withdrew a syringe from Peter's upper arm, placing a hand to hold him still. The venom was setting into Peter's system, and he had become detached from reality, muttering strange things while his eyes were closed. Vexen had taken the liberty of removing his torn suit in order to better examine him and draw blood from his bare skin, as well as apply a bandage to the wound itself; the scientist clicked his tongue at the sight of the thin man stripped down to only his undergarments, wondering how he kept himself alive with such little meat on his bones. Thankfully, Peter hadn't flinched or flailed while the needle had been inserted, but as soon as it was removed, he turned rapidly onto his side and curled up, saying "You'd think he's useful, but no, he's just Killer Moth" in a slurred tone.

Vexen held the syringe up to the light. Already, it bore bad news. The blood he'd drawn had a distinct plum-colored hue to it. "How much venom did you TAKE?" he barked, knowing not to expect a straight answer.

After a mild coughing fit, Peter told him, "If you're not going to eat that, I will."

At least, Vexen thought, it was better than dealing with the other patient. Mozenrath was fast asleep, drained of energy. He was still alive; Vexen had been able to detect a heartbeat, and he checked every so often to make sure air was respiring through the sorcerer's nostrils. But Vexen had also been able to ascertain most of the details of his condition, and he already knew disclosing them to the other core members of the WHAM ARMY would be a difficult affair – not due to any reluctance on his part to spit it out, but rather his unwillingness to weather their reactions. The Huntsman was still somewhere in the laboratory, imposing like a cobweb but refusing to simply be brushed away, and Vexen knew he wanted answers.

Venom, on the other hand, was something that could be countered – provided Vexen had the right ingredients. He already formulated a list of possibilities in his mind of the materials he might need, and he was lacking in one crucial component. If the venom was any less potent, he thought, he might have been able to get by, but this would require him to go out of his way to acquire it.

As he emptied the contents of the syringe into a flask, he became alerted to the sound of angrily storming footsteps headed in his direction. Not the Huntsman, he thought in aggravation.

He got what he wanted in one respect: it wasn't the Huntsman.

"WHAT HAPPENED?" Garfield growled as he stormed into the medical bay.

"What is happening is that I am in the midst of a very delicate process," Vexen stated, "and I will not tolerate interruption."

That line hadn't worked on Ansem's staff, it hadn't worked on Organization XIII, and any hope Vexen had that it would work on Garfield Lynns was quickly dashed. "Where is he?" Garfield asked, less forcefully due to the panic creeping into his voice.

His question was answered when Peter decided to declare that "I could double my net worth with those emeralds, you know."

"PETER!" Garfield bypassed Mozenrath completely (just as well, Vexen thought, as he wasn't yet ready to answer questions about him) to stand over Peter's bedside, where he stared down in shock at the delirious contortionist. "Tell me you're okay. PLEASE tell me you're okay."

"No, no, I said with twists, not on ice," Peter muttered. "Do I look like Mr. Freeze to you?"

"Don't bother," Vexen advised. "He's all but catatonic. You won't be able to have a decent conversation with him whatsoever."

Vexen was suddenly caught off guard by Garfield seizing him, turning him around, gripping him by the shoulders, and slamming him up against the wall. "YOU BETTER FIX HIM," Garfield threatened, glaring up at the much taller scientist. "Or you're gonna learn what it feels like to combust from the inside out."

"Believe it or not," Vexen replied casually, "I already know the feeling."

The two remained in stalemate until Vexen said, "For goodness' sake, I'm doing my best to cure him! Do you think I want my record besmirched by letting a simple venom case perish? I cannot, however, work toward that goal unless you allow me to do so!"

Garfield let Vexen go and backed off; Vexen could tell he was in no mood to apologize, and he frankly didn't care to hear an apology anyway. As Vexen returned to the plum-colored blood sloshing around in its flask, Garfield returned to Peter's side, taking the thin man's hand into both of his own and clasping it tightly. "You're gonna be okay," Garfield said softly. "I'll make sure you are."

"I have…something important to tell you," Peter said loudly and clearly.

"Yeah?" Garfield replied, wondering if Peter had regained clarity of his surroundings, even just a little. "What?"

"I'm in love with Firefly," Peter stated. "I have been for the past year. He doesn't know, so don't tell him. Shhhhh!"

Garfield choked back a laugh. "Okay. I won't say a word."

"WILL you leave me to work in peace?" Vexen snapped. "His muttering is distracting enough! I don't need your chatter!"

Before Garfield could argue, a Corridor briefly opened up in the area, long enough for Aghoul to step out of it, proudly holding high a bundle of white. "Voilà!"

"And what do you expect me to do with that?" Vexen sighed.

"It's spider silk," Aghoul explained. "Taken from a reasonable colony of giant spiders I knew back in the Seven Deserts."

"Y'know, I've pulled off some intense heists," Garfield commented, "but I think robbing giant spiders is where I draw the line."

"I didn't ROB them!" Aghoul snapped, offended. "I left them plenty of bugs to eat to regain their strength and spin more webs in exchange! What kind of boor do you think I am?"

"Are you even serious?" Garfield replied. "You're cool with mass murder, thievery, literally robbing graves, and kidnapping wives. But you get a conscience when it comes to SPIDERS."

"I've given up trying to explain any of their behaviors," Vexen sighed. "Truly, I have. Now, Aghoul, do you mind telling me WHY you have brought so much spider silk here?"

"For bandages, of course!" Aghoul explained. "They work much better than cloth! Especially where magic is involved."

"Hmm," Vexen recalled. "I do remember several medical texts stating the benefits of using spider silk as a natural bandage in place of gauze. Perhaps there is merit to it. I will forgive your intrusion so long as I can use the silk."

"What did you expect ME to use it for?" Aghoul asked as he plopped the bundle onto the table. "I don't even have blood!"

"Now, if you would simply leave me alone," Vexen sighed, "I can proceed with treatment. Or does anyone else wish to get in the way of my work?"

"How's the patient?" Rémington asked as he casually strode into the room.

"Why did I even say anything?" Vexen moaned to himself.

Rémington stopped over Peter's bed. "This doesn't look good."

"We are aware," Vexen huffed.

"Since when do you care?" Aghoul asked. "You're the one who wanted to leave him behind in the Corridor when he dropped."

"You wanted to WHAT?" Garfield glared at Rémington with fire in his eyes.

"I did what now?" Rémington said nervously, holding up both hands, palms outward. "I never said any such thing! You're misremembering! But if I did, it was only because I thought he was already literal dead weight. He's still some of the best company I've ever met. 'Thick as thieves,' they say." He turned to Vexen. "So, is he going to die, or – "

"If I give you a status report on Merkel," Vexen seethed, "will you all LEAVE ME ALONE?"

"Yes," Garfield, Aghoul, and Rémington said as one.

"Very well," Vexen sighed. "The venom was quick-acting after the initial strike, but its effects seem to have leveled out. I have only very preliminary readings to go on, but I fear much of Merkel's bloodstream has been infected. Yet his vital signs have shown a relatively slight decline. He has hours yet before there is any cause to worry. I still have yet to determine the exact composition of the venom that is coursing through his veins. I have on hand many of the materials required to combat simpler poisons. In the worst case, however, I would be in need of psyllium, which I am dangerously low on, and I would need to leave in order to obtain enough for a suitable poultice. I will know whether or not the psyllium is required after I have finished testing the venom, which I have yet to do thanks to constant interruptions. That is as much as I can tell you. Now, uphold your end of the bargain and LEAVE."

"At once," Aghoul said as Rémington nodded. As the two turned away, they found they had to take hold of Garfield's arms and somewhat drag him out of the bay.

On the way, Garfield finally noticed Mozenrath. "Whoa. What happened to HIM?"

"I'll explain on the way out," Aghoul promised.

The trio passed the Huntsman, still leaning against the wall. "Are you, uh…going to stay there all day?" Aghoul asked.

"I will leave when I am ready to leave," the Huntsman grunted.

"Suit yourself," Aghoul said with a shrug. "So," he said to Garfield, "about Mozenrath…"

As Aghoul and Garfield busied themselves with that conversation, Rémington slipped away. He reached into the folds of his clothing, wrapping his fingers around a small, hard item.

He had been awakened to the idea of inter-world travel a while back; the Ecaflip Ush had called him for several assignments, hoping to make use of his talents to thieve for Ush's personal gain, and thus brought him to the Ecaflip Dimension and opened his eyes to all that existed outside the World of Twelve. Since then, he had sought out other passageways to the multitude of worlds, bringing Grany on his escapades in search of a lucrative way to profit from the travel between them.

And he had found it. There were some very obvious reasons he hadn't mentioned it to the WHAM ARMY at all. All the same, he thought, there was no reason he couldn't continue it and still be part of the WHAM ARMY.

There wasn't enough time to take a Gummi Ship out to the place he needed to be. But on one of his last trips to work his side job, he had obtained a quite useful item: a bag of magic beans. Each bean would only work for one trip. He had in his hand the one that would get him where he needed to go, and he could easily dig up one for the return trip.

There was no time to find Grany. He would have to make this trip alone. He sought seclusion so that he could activate the bean.

...

It was cleanup time among the shelves of the Liminal Space. Terminus delicately worked a feather duster among the smaller items of his inventory while Hoagy swept up and down each aisle with a broom. Earlier, Harley had joined them to do a bit of window-washing for the façade.

"That Harley sure is a sweet girl," Hoagy remarked. "Nice of her to help us out with this."

"It makes you wonder what she's even doing here, doesn't it?" Terminus pointed out. "She's TOO nice. Why would Maleficent even let her stay around?"

"Maybe she's got a dark side," Hoagy suggested. "We don't know her that well. Maybe we actually oughta be careful around her."

"Careful, schmareful," Terminus brushed off. "What could a girl like that possibly be hiding? That she can turn into a dragon or some nonsense?"

"Well, actually, I've heard that MALEFICENT can turn into a – "

Both men were suddenly alerted by the jingle of the door's bell. They looked to see if a customer had entered, but instead, they were greeted by the sight of the shop's most productive supplier: the one who had brought such goodies as the shipment of Magiswords, which sold like hotcakes.

"Mr. Smisse!" Terminus greeted as he stowed the feather duster behind a row of shelved product. "Good to see you again!" He approached Rémington with a smile. "Brought anything particularly special for us today?"

"Actually, I'm here to buy," Rémington said coldly.

"…I sense you're not in a good mood," Terminus observed.

"I need to make this quick," Rémington insisted. "I need psyllium. And I mean the real stuff. Not any of your quack medicine."

"For you, of course!" Terminus agreed. "That is, assuming you can pay for it."

Rémington withdrew another treasure he'd been hiding from the WHAM ARMY from within his pockets: the heart made of ogrine that the Archmage had so disrespectfully tossed them as a consolation prize. Aghoul wouldn't go looking for it again after dismissing it as so useless, Rémington figured. "This should suffice."

Terminus swiped the heart into his hands, admiring its gleam. "I should say it does!" he said happily before taking a detour into the correct aisle for remedies that actually worked.

"Whatcha need psyllium for?" Hoagy asked as Rémington tapped his foot.

"That's not your business," Rémington stated.

Terminus returned with a moderately sized jar packed with brown flakes. "As promised," he said as he handed it over. "And are you SURE you have nothing to bring in to us today?"

"If I had something," Rémington deadpanned, "I would have brought it."

"When do you think you might have something next, hm?"

"Trust me," Rémington said, "I've just come into a position where I'm about to have access to some very delicious finds. You should be seeing the rewards soon enough."

On that note, he turned and stalked out of the shop, fishing through his pockets for another bean.

...

Vexen sighed as he lowered the flask of the venom he'd managed to examine. He would need psyllium after all. The problem was where to obtain it.

As he calculated where the best world would be to cast his Corridor, he was startled by a finger tapping his shoulder. After he flinched from the surge of adrenaline, he slowly turned to regard the offender with a glare. It was true that he didn't feel true anger. However, he found that in the absence of his heart, he was often driven to noticing the situations where the trappings of anger were fitting to wear.

Before he could yell at Rémington for disturbing him, his eyes locked onto the jar in Rémington's hands. "Psyllium," the rogue said simply, shoving the jar at Vexen.

"From the sounds of it," Vexen told him, "I didn't think you cared whether Merkel lived or died."

Rémington shrugged. "Like I said. He's good company." He then took his leave without Vexen having to egg him on further.

Vexen unscrewed the jar's lid, taking a whiff. It seemed to be what he needed. He edged a flake under a microscope; it was true psyllium. Good, he thought. He could begin making a charcoal poultice immediately and bind it on with the spider silk Aghoul had brought. That would take care of Peter.

Then, unfortunately, he would have to turn his attentions to Mozenrath. That would be a far less pleasant affair.

...

Tui trusted his daughter with whatever undertaking she had crossed the oceans for. That didn't mean he didn't spend at least some time every day of her absence worrying for her. He knew she was capable of taking care of herself, but he was also aware that sometimes, forces outside of one's control could bring down even the strongest and the bravest.

It was a sudden ray of light breaking through the clouds of the sky to hear her voice calling out: "Dad! DAD!"

"Moana!" Tui turned to see her rushing to him at full speed. He was surprised to see the company that followed behind her. Sora, Riku, Kairi, Cid, Merlin, and Leon all approached from some distance back.

"Dad, you won't believe it!" Moana gushed when she got within a distance where yelling was not necessary. "There's even more out there than we thought! There are whole other WORLDS out there beyond this one! On the other side of the stars!"

Tui frowned. "Moana, where did you hear this?"

"I didn't HEAR it, Dad! I saw it for myself!"

"Saw it for yourself?" Tui repeated.

The others had caught up by that time, letting Leon take the lead. "Chief Tui," he greeted.

"It is…good to meet you," Tui told him tentatively. "I see my daughter has already introduced me. What is your name?"

"Leon," Leon answered. "I think there's something we need to discuss."

"And I suppose it has to do with these tales my daughter is telling me of other worlds," Tui said dryly.

"That's exactly what we need to talk about," Leon stated. "You may want to come with us to see things for yourself."

"Come with you?" Tui asked.

"Just for a short while," Leon promised. "Then we can bring you right back."

"But where do you intend to take me?"

Merlin flicked his wand. "To another world, of course!"

...

Ainsley was half asleep by the time Oscar and his tech crew had located the closet and moved the heavy shelf out of the way. As Oscar pried the squeaky door open, he sighed with relief. "THERE you are," he breathed. "How did you get down here anyway?"

Bringing up Ellington would involve bringing up the reason Ainsley had followed her in the first place. "I got lost," Ainsley said plainly.

"Lost. In a broom closet in the basement, with a heavy shelf barricading the door."

"I got REALLY lost."

"Did…Elizabeth do this?" Oscar asked in suspicion.

"No," Ainsley replied, once again to deflect any thoughts that they were involved in something unsavory by being her target.

"Anyway, we're all waiting on your audition," Oscar stated. "So you might want to come out of the closet."

"Actually, I've been out as nonbinary since I was seven."

It took half a minute of silence.

"Oh," Ainsley realized. "You mean the literal broom closet. That makes more sense." They shuffled into a standing position.

As the crew walked out of the prop room, Oscar's foot landed on something hard that had been dislodged when Ellington moved the shelf. He looked down to see the damage he had caused to whatever prop it had ended up being. What he saw was a sparkling blue crystal, vaguely star-shaped, with crooked metal forging one of its points. It wasn't one of his props. He had no idea what it would even be used for. He quickly bent, scooped it up, offering it to Ainsley; "I think you might have dropped this."

Ainsley knew they hadn't dropped it. It first crossed their mind that it was something valuable, and therefore something Olaf would want. That was, initially, why they said, "Yeah, that's mine," and stuffed it deep into their pocket.

However, the more they thought about it, the more they felt the whole day had been unfair. Ellington had gotten away. Ainsley wasn't even sure what side of the schism she was on, but either way, Ainsley knew they were supposed to have intercepted whatever she was doing with that book. Now Olaf would find out, and Ainsley would be the victim of an unfitting punishment. Maybe next time, the troupe's car would simply drive off without them, and they would have to walk to the next site of Olaf's schemes. And on top of all that, they had just spent an hour locked in a broom closet. They felt perhaps they just deserved a little something all to themselves for that trouble. No, the star shard didn't belong to them, but were they not a villain, technically? Ainsley decided to hold onto the shard and not tell Olaf about it. It sparkled delightfully, and perhaps Ainsley could trade it in for a good sum of money when left unsupervised next.

With that decision made, Ainsley returned to the stage to finish out the audition for a play they would actually get cast in but have to eventually quit in order to follow Olaf to the site of his next plot.

...

Tui and his wife Sina were given a grand tour of the Radiant Garden castle. Moana excitedly pointed out landmark after landmark: the library, the kitchen, the snake's-head fountain. On the way, Leon, Cid, and Merlin took turns explaining the situation to Moana's parents.

They ended up back in the library, where it seemed most important business meetings were destined in the castle. "And that's what your daughter wants to help us do," Leon concluded as they settled around a table.

"Moana?" Sina looked to her daughter. "Is this true? You want to stay here?"

"Yes!" Moana insisted. "Well, not just stay here. Travel all the worlds. Help people who need me. I'll come back and visit often. After all, I know Motonui needs me too, and I want to be there for them when they do. But so many more people out there need help, and this is my big chance to learn what's out here beyond the stars of our world!"

"I don't like the sound of any of this," Tui confessed. "It sounds as though there are great dangers involved."

"I've faced plenty of great dangers!" Moana reminded him. "I survived Lalotai, remember?"

"That is true," Tui sighed. "Which is why I will say it again. I may not like the idea of you running off to this place and wherever else lies beyond. But if it is what you wish to do…I will trust you." He looked around at Leon, Cid, Merlin, Sora, Kairi, and Riku. "I do not know your companions well, but they seem kind."

"If you can say something like that," Merlin huffed, "then you DEFINITELY are not well-acquainted with Cid Highwind."

"Like you're Mr. Nice Guy," Cid shot back. "Always bringin' me down."

"I promise everyone else associated with the Committee knows how to behave," Kairi stated with a slight laugh.

"You may stay," Tui told Moana. "But you must return at least once per turn of the moon."

"It will take but a moment to discern how your calendar equates to ours," Merlin promised.

"I'm proud of you for everything you're facing," Sina added. "I just want you to stay safe. But I know what you feel like you have to do."

"Nothing will get better if we all stay where it's safe," Moana urged.

"We'll miss you," Sina said sincerely.

"And I'll miss you too," Moana replied.

"With that cleared up," Merlin decided, "we shan't keep you any longer than necessary, Chief Tui and Lady Sina. Now, while it is still technically possible to enter and exit the castle through teleportation, we are working on security measures that would make such things impossible, so we had best step outside before we depart. Get in the habit, you know?" He stood up and marched toward the exit. "Right this way, right this way!"

As Tui, Sina, Cid, Sora, and Riku followed, Leon stated, "I'll be along in a minute. I want a word with Kairi first."

Kairi waited until the others had left before asking Leon, "Why do you want to talk to me?"

"So far, the Committee has been acting under the assumption that I'm more or less its leader," Leon stated, "with Cid and Merlin close behind. But we are above all else the Radiant Garden Restoration Committee, and you are the princess of Radiant Garden by blood. Technically, you're the one who leads the Committee."

"But I'm almost never here," Kairi protested. "You know what goes on here a lot better than I do."

"But you know how to talk to people better than I do," Leon told her. "And don't tell Cid or Merlin this, but it isn't hard to be a better diplomat than either of them. I want you to start taking over some of the meetings we have with outsiders. With our growing influence, I have a feeling there are a lot of these meetings yet to come."

"I don't know if I can be a representative for all of Radiant Garden," Kairi protested. "The Committee, the kingdom, and the people working together to protect the worlds right now. It's a lot."

"It is a lot," Leon told her. "And it won't be easy. But I know you're capable of doing challenging things." He flashed her a slight smile. "At least think about it."

"Okay," Kairi promised.

They exited the grounds just in time to see Moana hug both Tui and Sina goodbye before Merlin transported them and himself back to Motonui. Moana then turned excitedly to Riku; "So! What happens now?"

As if on cue, Sadira came bolting out the front doors. "Hey, everyone!" she called out. "Guess what's finished!"

"The hourglass!" Sora realized.

Sadira turned to Kairi. "That crystal you brought back? It was perfect. Now we should be able to ask it anything we want."

"And I know I've got some questions!" Sora stated.

"We should wait for Merlin," Riku advised. "He was the only one who was able to decode the answers from the hourglass in Agrabah."

"Right!" Sora agreed.

Once Merlin had returned, Sadira rounded up the entire gang to bring them to the upper room of the castle, adjacent to the chapel; Sora recognized it as where he had first fought Maleficent in her dragon form. An enormous hourglass dominated the room now, stretching up to the ceiling, with its bottom bulb positioned to be easy to view. The pillars that kept it in place curved together at the top to position the Balmeran crystal above it.

"Zap it with some lightning," Sadira announced, "and the sands of the future are now open for business!"

Sora, Riku, and Kairi raised their blades in unison, calling out, "THUNDER!"

As the lightning struck the crystal, the sands within the bulb of the hourglass began to whip rapidly about in a cyclone pattern.

Sadira nudged Sora. "Well? You said you had questions!"

"All right!" Sora stepped forward, asking loudly and clearly, "What is Mozenrath trying to make out of the magical stuff we've seen him take?"

The sands bulged and writhed, and the bulb became filled with pure blackness. It took a moment before Sora realized that was the only answer he was going to get.

"It's…nothing," Sora observed. "What does THAT mean?"

"Why, it could mean any number of things," Merlin stated. "Sand divination is not an exact science. It could mean that there is no functional goal to the items Mozenrath is taking, and they are simply unrelated. Or it could mean that combined, the items will result in the destruction of a world, and this is a view of the aftermath."

"Kinda hoping it's that first one," Aladdin admitted.

"Okay," Sora said, "next question. Where is Mozenrath headed next?"

Color erupted from the center of the blackness, beginning to form shapes and symbols.

"Ah, yes!" Merlin proclaimed once a clearer shape had been taken. "THAT is much easier to translate! I know exactly where you are going, my boy!"

...

Vexen stepped back from Mozenrath's sleeping body. His assessment was complete. It was time to inform the others.

He took two strides to a radio set in the wall of the medical bay, depressing a button with a single finger. "Huntsman, Wuya, Yzma, Mim, Ayam Aghoul, Archibald Snatcher, and Roman Torchwick, report in to the medical bay at once," he stated calmly before lifting his finger from the button.

The Huntsman had only to walk a short distance from the outer laboratory. Wuya, Mim, and Aghoul teleported in; Yzma, Snatcher, and Roman crowded into a rollercoaster cart together and rode down to meet up with the rest. They filed expectantly around Vexen, all looking eager to hear what he had to announce.

"No beating around the bush this time," Aghoul urged. "You tell us what we want to know about him, or we'll force it out of you!"

"The only reason I beat around the bush regarding Merkel – who will be on his feet and annoying as ever in a matter of hours, mind you – is because you insisted upon interrupting me," Vexen reminded Aghoul.

"You're beating around the bush right now!" Aghoul accused.

"BECAUSE YOU SPOKE BEFORE I HAD A CHANCE TO!" Vexen yelled. He cleared his throat. "The situation regarding Mozenrath is grave. He burned away the absolute majority of his life force, and with it, much of his body. The skin and flesh from the neck upward are intact, but below that, there is no muscle, skin, or nerve tissue. His vitals remain, but are exposed to the elements. If he were to move, it must be with great care, and I would not advise removing any articles of clothing, as they are all the protection he has. Now, before you ask, I could temporarily patch the damage and cover his internal organs with a thin layer of ice, one that would still leave him flexible, but this would risk exposing him to cold temperatures in a manner I find unwise. And I could indeed regrow tissue for him using my replication process, but it would not fix the more pressing problem: the loss of his life force.

"Mozenrath is weakened to the point of barely being able to move himself. Even with a fully functioning body, he would not last long in it. As of now, if he rests, he has several days yet before he succumbs to death. Should he attempt to strain his body too much, that time span will be considerably shortened. And the use of magic is outright prohibited. I have taken the liberty of removing his gauntlet from him and storing it in a safe place so that he does not accidentally cast any spells in his sleep. Were he to use much more magic, he could burn through what life he has left within a matter of hours."

Mim and Aghoul's expressions remained neutral. The Huntsman's, as usual, was unreadable beneath his headgear. However, Yzma, Wuya, Snatcher, and Roman looked visibly brought down by this news, faces knit with worry.

Before any could make any comment, Vexen went on: "There is, however, a way to cure him, even in such dire circumstances. It is a bit of a long shot, but it will have to be worth the risk. I have heard of waters that have the power to heal any ailment: sacred waters, guarded by the moon itself."

"That sounds like CRAZY magic," Roman commented.

"It isn't magic," Vexen clarified. "It is a manifestation of the spirit world. It is not meant for actual use as a healing agent, and such an act is likely to be seen as sacrilege by those who house the water, yet we have little choice. Now, I have only heard about this water conceptually and never pinned down a location. Those who whisper about it have been lenient to disclose its whereabouts for the very reasons I have stated: sacrilege. However, if you haven't been utterly incompetent and lost it, one of you should still possess the compass designed to point the way to the location of whatever we seek."

Wuya held the compass out toward Vexen; "Looking for this?"

Vexen swiped the instrument. "Now," he declared, "if we place it in the map of the worlds, we should be delivered a starting point for our search. Presuming, of course, you all wish to seek the Spirit Waters, though to disagree with that plan at this point would be utter foolishness and a display of complete disloyalty to Mozenrath."

"I am sure I speak for all of us when I say we must locate this water as soon as is humanly possible," the Huntsman replied emphatically. The others nodded, some (Mim and Aghoul) less somberly than others.

"Then it is settled." Vexen took one step toward the table where he had set up the map in advance, placing the compass in its base. Once the map had pinpointed the world in question, he muttered, more to himself than any of his company, "I should have known it would be in the World of Four Nations."


	46. The Check-In

46\. The Check-In

"The World of Four Nations," Vexen went on to explain, "is exactly as it sounds. Its populace is divided into four distinct peoples: the Water Tribe, the Fire Nation, the Earth Kingdom, and the Air Nomads, the latter of whom are all but extinct. Each people has among it individuals who can manipulate or 'bend' the corresponding elements in a process that works entirely outside of magic. It would only make sense for the waters to be kept among the Water Tribe. But which settlement? North or South? Choosing the incorrect one would result in a detour that could prove fatal. Perhaps the solution is to choose a midpoint and seek information from there…"

"All right," Roman interrupted. "We get the point. No rest for the wicked. So let's saddle up and – "

"You're not going," Vexen said flatly. "You forget that Mozenrath's life is on the line. We cannot afford any incompetence. I shall lead the team deployed to the World of Four Nations. Mozenrath will accompany us, if only that we may bring him directly to the waters and heal him there. Beyond that, Wuya has both the skill and demeanor required for maximum efficiency. Mim's demeanor leaves much to be desired, but her powers will admittedly be quite useful. I shall also require Xayide to accompany us, and that comprises the entirety of the team. Entry is closed."

"I don't believe this!" Yzma groaned. "He is closer to all of us than he is to you! Why do YOU get to go and not the majority of us?"

"Because your lack of magical ability will slow us down," Vexen stated. "That, or subpar abilities, before Aghoul chimes in with an argument."

"I believe my abilities in other respects far make up for my lack of magic," the Huntsman argued. "I shall accompany your team."

"No," Vexen insisted, "you most certainly shall not."

"I am traveling with you," the Huntsman growled, "whether you wish me to or not."

"I will freeze you to the spot," Vexen threatened.

And he received a threat right back: the tip of the huntstaff was thrust mere inches away from his face. "You WILL let me accompany him," the Huntsman snarled, "or you will pay the price!"

Vexen sniffed. "I see threats as a bargaining tactic are in fashion. This is the second one I have received in a matter of hours." He reached up to gently nudge the staff aside. "Very well. You may accompany us. I trust you will remain focused. Know, however, that if you cause us to lag behind, you will be cut off and left where you stand so that we may regain the proper momentum. Am I clear?"

"As crystal," the Huntsman said, only slightly less dangerous in tone. He lowered the staff.

"As for the rest of us?" Snatcher ventured.

"I have made an exception for the Huntsman," Vexen replied. "No amount of threatening can persuade me to make more."

"It will be easier if you back down," the Huntsman suggested. "I will make sure Mozenrath survives this ordeal. You need not worry."

"And having me around won't hurt," Wuya teased.

"Nothing brings out the fun in a situation like a good old-fashioned race against death!" Mim chirped.

"Why race death?" Aghoul added. "Winning is only a hollow victory."

"Aghoul has just demonstrated why he is not allowed on the team," Vexen snorted. "Now, if all but those I have specified would LEAVE this bay." He strode over to the PA system, depressing the button. "Xayide, report to the medical bay at once."

No sooner had Vexen stepped back than Yzma cut in, stating, "I need to use this." Before she could argue, she jammed the button down, announcing, "Attention, everyone! This is the beautiful and glamorous Yzma speaking. The intruder known as Zevon is my son. I am henceforth letting him out of his cell to roam the base freely. Do NOT kill him. That is all."

"Zevon is your WHAT?" Wuya said in shock.

"We can discuss this later," Yzma replied.

"No," Wuya insisted, "we are discussing this NOW."

"No," Vexen broke in, "YOU are staying here to prepare for our voyage while Yzma and every other half-baked waste of space in this room will be leaving immediately. And I do mean immediately, before I am forced to take measures."

Yzma, Roman, Snatcher, and Aghoul all turned to storm out of the area, the former three fuming and the latter mildly put off.

On the way, they found a new occupant to the outer laboratory; Garfield perched upon a stool, fiddling with the dial on a Bunsen burner to create the most luminous flame possible. Upon the exit of the other four, he looked up expectantly, impatience written on his face with anxiety between the lines.

"He's fine," Roman said immediately, knowing what Garfield was thinking. "Iceman said it's just a few hours until he's back to seeing if he can fit in your sock drawer."

"We tested it," Garfield said somewhat absently, "and yes, he can fit in the sock drawer. He said it's a good place to gather his thoughts."

"It's Righty we actually have to worry about," Roman sighed.

"Y'know, I barely know the guy," Garfield replied, "but here's hopin' he pulls through for ya."

"Here," Yzma told Garfield as she stalked over to Vexen's side of the laboratory. "If you're going to mope with arson, use these." She swiped a thick stack of papers whose top sheet read "CONFIDENTIAL AND IRREPLACEABLE DATA! TOUCH UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES!" and handed these papers over to Garfield.

A slight smirk appeared on Garfield's somber face. "Like you're reading my mind," he said as he took hold of the papers, separating the top three from the stack and lowering the corners into the fire to watch the paper catch alight, turn black, and fall into ashes.

"Now if you'll excuse me," Yzma stated, "Vexen interrupted a very important mother-son bonding session for me to be here."

"Okay, what is UP with that?" Roman asked as he, Yzma, Snatcher, and Aghoul continued to stalk out of the laboratory. "You have a KID now?"

As Yzma tried to give a condensed version of recent events with just enough backstory for the tale to make sense, Garfield turned the tap of a nearby sink and flicked the remains of the papers into the water before the flames could singe his fingers. He would go through several more sheets before realizing that what he was burning consisted of several printed repetitions of "Nice try. Did you really think I would leave my most crucial data in the open where you miscreants could access it?".

...

The hourglass showed four humanoid silhouettes in succession: one manipulating a stream of water to float through the air, one kicking a large chunk of rock out of the ground and smacking it away, one displaying a graceful boxing technique with flames surrounding its limbs, and one twirling to send a cyclone of air rushing.

"This can only mean one thing!" Merlin proclaimed. "Mozenrath's next target is the World of Four Nations!"

"What's the World of Four Nations?"

"Lemme guess," Cid sighed. "A mess."

"Well, yes," Merlin admitted. "A political nest of thorns, if you will. Yet somehow, I get the feeling you'll fit right in, Sora. Let's see…for you, I believe the world is in the era of Avatar Roku. Oh, no, nonononono, I've just remembered, that's far in the past from you. You will be arriving during the era of Avatar Aang! Ah, yes, a good place to start! The Fire Nation will only just have been passed to Fire Lord Zuko a short while ago. That should give you an excellent window of political peace…oh. Oh, dear. I suppose Mozenrath aims to throw it all into chaos."

"Then we have to stop him," Ruby said firmly.

"That's the attitude!" Merlin encouraged with the swing of a fist. "I presume the same team will be going after him? Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, Stork, and Jasmine? You have, after all, cultivated somewhat of a personal relationship with him."

"I thought he was my nemesis," Aladdin joked.

"TOO BAD!" Papyrus replied. "FOR WE HAVE STOLEN HIM! SO THIS IS WHAT HAVING AN ARCHNEMESIS IS LIKE. I MUST SAY, THE CONCEPT SOUNDS MUCH BETTER ON PAPER."

"I guess the five of us sort of are the Mozenrath-stopping team," Sora observed. He then looked to Riku; "I'm guessing you want to focus on cleaning up some of the other worlds."

"We've let Atmos go for too long," Riku confirmed. "Its broken kingdoms need to be fixed."

"I agree," Kairi stated.

"Can't argue with that," Nick added.

"I can argue with that," Xander sighed. "After that last experience, I could use a break."

"We'll decide who stays and who goes together," Riku stated.

Ruby nodded toward Sora. "Ready when you are!"

Sora looked to the other direction to exchange a nod with Papyrus, who proclaimed, "IT IS TIME FOR US TO STOP OUR NEW ARCHNEMESIS ONCE AND FOR ALL!"

"Technically, he was also originally my archnemesis," Jasmine reminded everyone. "I still owe him for Dagger Rock."

"And I suppose I have to go along to make sure you don't all die horribly," Stork sighed.

"You know you love us," Sora teased.

"And that's just unfortunate for everyone involved," Stork grunted.

The five stood together. Sora put out his hand; the other four put hands in on top of his. "Let's do this!" Sora exclaimed.

Riku turned to the hourglass. "What is Maleficent looking for next?" he asked.

The hourglass repeated the symbols of the representatives of the four nations, followed by a panoramic view of a vast kingdom from above.

"The Fire Nation?" Merlin wondered out loud. "It seems you now have more than one reason to travel to the World of Four Nations."

"We'll be on the lookout!" Sora promised as he, Ruby, Jasmine, Stork, and Papyrus lifted their hands apart.

"I shall prepare you with the proper coordinates at once!" Merlin stated as he led the quintet out of the room.

"All right, everyone," Riku announced to those who remained in the room. "If you're not taking a break, then we have some serious work to do."

...

Zevon was still waiting in his cell when Yzma returned for him. "I heard your little announcementation," he stated. "Do you think it's enough to put me in good standing?"

Yzma was already sliding keys around a ring, searching for the one that fit Zevon's cell. "Anyone who doesn't regard you with the proper respect will have to answer to me," she replied dryly. "Besides, this isn't the strangest way we've made an ally." She fitted key to lock, clicked the door open and swung it wide. "Well!" She threw her arms outward. "We've got thirty years of catching up to do!"

"How do you proposite we start?" Zevon asked as he stepped out of the cell.

"I want to see just how good you are at potion making," Yzma told him, handing his potion belt back over to him. "Your repertoire seems to be lacking."

"How so?" Zevon asked indignantly as he fastened his belt around his waist.

"Transfiguration," Yzma said with a smile. "My specialty! How versed are you?"

"I dabbable," Zevon replied.

"What do you say to helping me brew a new batch of a potion that is sorely needed as of recent events?" Yzma suggested.

"I would say…LET'S DO THIS!" Zevon proclaimed.

Without needing a cue, Yzma and Zevon began to jog out of the dungeons, footfalls completely in sync.

"One more question," Yzma proposed as they entered the hall. "How do you feel about rollercoasters?"

"I find them exhilifying!"

"You ARE my son!"

...

A warship that encompasses an entire kingdom is sure to be equipped with several bars. Roman had sought them all out some time ago, marking which ones had the best aesthetic. And it was in one of these bars that he found himself alone, sitting on one of the stools and lighting up a cigarette. Taking a long drag, he found it almost wasn't enough, contemplating how foolish it would be to try and smoke multiple at once.

Was it a bad sign that an associate's ill health broke him up so? Perhaps. He took assessment of the dread that grew within him, the thought crossing his mind that were it Neo in Mozenrath's position, the void would seem deeper, and were it Snatcher –

Well, he didn't want to even contemplate that one. These were the risks of getting attached, he thought, when he knew full well that life was never fair. Yet here he was.

He abandoned the thought of smoking two cigarettes in the same blow in favor of trying to smoke and drink at the same time, sliding off the bar stool to search the bottles behind the counter. Atmosian liquor was different from Remnant fare, and he found himself perplexed by most of the names. No better time, he thought, to experiment and figure out which one would cloud his mind the most. Keeping his cigarette clenched between his teeth, he selected a bottle of something bright green and removed its stopper.

As he searched out a glass to pour his peridot-colored bounty into, he was interrupted by an encroaching voice: "Torchwick, do tell me you aren't attempting to smoke and drink at the same time."

Roman set down his glass, removing the cigarette from his mouth and exhaling a curlicue of smoke. "And if I am, are you going to stop me?"

Snatcher sauntered into the room, claiming a seat upon one of the stools. "I may attempt to talk you out of it. However, unlike Mr. Vexen, I am not about to expressly forbid you from doing anything."

"And you have a good argument why I shouldn't just be roaring drunk right now?"

"It appears to me, Torchwick, that now may be a good time to keep a clear head."

"Clear head, huh?" Roman abandoned the green liquid, walking back around the bar to take a seat next to Snatcher. After another drag of his cigarette, he leaned one arm onto the bar. "He's the entire reason we aren't rotting in Hell. If it weren't for him, we would both be literally dead. And technically, it's his fault you and I are as close as we are. He might not be great at parties, but he's smart, he's loyal enough, and he's fun in his own weird way. I would follow him right back INTO Hell. But now, he's about to bite it, and I'm not even allowed to do anything to try and get him out of the grave. I know at the end of the day, he's just another boss. I can find a new one, easy. Or I can be my own boss, but against my better judgment, I'm starting to think I should have voted for someone else to take over the WHAM ARMY when Righty got amnesia. The worlds don't end because Righty dies. But they do seem like they'd be missing something." He sighed. "I just want to shut my brain off for at least a day. Or however long it takes for us to be back to business as usual." The cigarette returned to his lips.

"I'm well aware of your concerns," Snatcher replied. "I share most of them, in fact. We owe quite a bit to Lord Mozenrath, and strange as it sounds, he has been a faithful friend to us. Should the worst happen, I'd miss him quite a bit. We're kindred souls, he and I. He knows what it means to sacrifice for power. Not that you don't, of course – "

"No, I get where you're going."

"But we are on a level of understanding at which we've built a connection," Snatcher finished. "Not to mention that without him, none of us would be here in the first place. There wouldn't be a WHAM ARMY to speak of. Should he perish – " Snatcher suddenly latched onto something Roman had said. "Hold on. You'd said you actively don't want his mantle?"

"I just think somebody else might be able to do the job better than me," Roman stated casually. "That's not for you to tell anyone else, of course."

"But who do you have in mind?"

Roman seemed surprised that Snatcher had even needed to ask, regarding him with a look that conveyed that exact sentiment. "You. It's kind of obvious."

Snatcher shrugged; somehow he hadn't been expecting to hear that. "I shall take it. I suppose that means my suggestions carry quite a bit of weight."

Roman nodded.

"Then might I propose," Snatcher said, "that instead of shutting down during the period it takes Mozenrath to recover, we put our talents toward a more practical use? You seek a distraction, and I could use one myself, but given the difference of time passage between our ship and this World of Four Nations, drinking ourselves into a stupor may require us to remain in such a state for several days."

"I'm not seeing the downside."

"Think productive, Torchwick. Mr. Vexen and the others are all capable of traveling via magic, leaving the ship unclaimed. You, I, and a team of our choosing could commandeer the ship, travel to another world, make some sort of conquest or obtain a valuable possession, and bring it back just in time to meet a fully healed Lord Mozenrath and impress him with what we've done!" Snatcher's eyes sparkled as he grinned.

"Y'know," Roman admitted, "I might just have to take you up on that idea. It probably does beat the alternative." He stubbed out the end of his cigarette on the counter.

"Of course it does, Torchwick."

Footfalls were heard at the entrance to the bar; Snatcher and Roman spun on their stools to see Rémington walk in. "So this is where they keep the booze, huh?" Rémington remarked.

"Help yourself," Roman said with a gesture toward the bottles lined up behind the bar. "And no, I don't know what's what. It's an Atmosian surprise!"

Rémington, allured by the bottle of green Roman had left out, poured himself a glass of it, not bothering to offer to anyone else. "What are we talking about?" he asked before taking a swig.

Snatcher spun his stool back around to look at Roman, and the two locked stares. "Should we?" Roman asked.

"I don't see why not," Snatcher told him. "He does seem particularly like-minded to you. Then again, I don't see any alternate reason why we SHOULD…"

"You're talking about me behind my back, aren't you?" Rémington accused.

"No," Snatcher assured him, "we most certainly were not. Give us a moment to work out the details, and we shall let you know – "

"Actually, y'know what?" Roman interrupted. "Let's just go for it. Rémy, Archie and I are putting together a little team for a heist. And you fit the bill of what we're looking for."

"What, exactly, are we looking for?" Snatcher asked.

"I thought you'd know," Roman told him. "It was your idea."

"Well, you're the one who just asked Mr. Smisse!"

"What kind of heist are we talking about?" Rémington asked, leaning over the bar and resting his elbows on the counter.

"Anything," Roman told him. "We pick a world. Any world. We're probably floating by some interesting ones right now. And we take what we can get."

"I'm in," Rémington said with a smile.

"Who else should be part of our little expedition?" Snatcher wondered out loud. "The other Mr. Smisse? Miss Neopolitan?"

"Yes," Roman and Rémington said as one.

"We don't want to make Mr. Vexen's mistake of leaving the base without adequate forces," Snatcher mused. "If there are no further suggestions, perhaps we cap off our roster at that."

"I like it," Roman commented. "Also. Here's a thought. I'm guessing you want to start us out taking the subtle approach. No blazing guns until they're necessary. Acting like ordinary citizens until we get the information I need. Am I onto something here?"

"That is generally how I would begin, yes," Snatcher confirmed.

"Sooooo," Roman suggested, "what if you did the whole mission incognito as Frou Frou?" He leaned slightly forward, poking Snatcher in the chest. "Don't act like it wouldn't be fun for you."

"Well, I, er, generally save Frou Frou for when I need her, but…" Snatcher mulled it over. "It actually would be an incredibly satisfying way to go about it. For Archibald Snatcher to be the second persona, should one be needed."

"If we're going to do this," Roman told him, "we might as well make it a party. And I already know you're going to put the nix on me setting everything on fire on the first go, so that leaves the party department to you. I just thought that might be right up your alley."

"A very welcome suggestion," Snatcher confirmed. "That settles it. Whichever world we select shall know me primarily as Penelope Frou Frou." His smile grew wider; the prospect of wearing the persona for such an extended amount of time was enticing. "A brilliant idea as per usual, Torchwick."

"I'd ask you to stop flattering me," Roman replied coyly, "but why should I stop you from just saying the truth?"

"Will you be joining me as Miss Incandescent, or are you remaining Mr. Torchwick?" Snatcher asked. "I intend to select a world on which we shall be complete strangers, so no other assumed names should be necessary unless you wish to wear one."

"Eh, I'll stay Roman," Roman decided.

"I'm letting the beard grow back for as long as I can," Rémington argued.

"That settles it!" Snatcher pounded the counter hard enough that the drink in Rémington's glass slopped up over the rim. "I motion that we be off as soon as we can!"

Roman brought out his scroll, sending a quick text: "where r u?"

"My room" was the answer.

Not ten minutes after Neo sent the answer did she hear the banging of fists upon the door to her apartment. Thinking that whatever Roman wanted, it had better be good, she daintily crossed the distance to open the door and look into the eager faces of not only Roman but Snatcher and Rémington.

"Neo!" Roman greeted. "Wanna go on an adventure?"

She tilted her head to ask what sort of adventure.

"The kind where we infiltrate a random world, take whatever we can get that's valuable, and maybe, just maybe get to murder somebody on the way out," Roman explained.

Neo immediately perked up, smiling and nodding enthusiastically. It was good after all, she thought. She pointed to each of the three men in turn, then herself, then shrugged.

"Just us and Rémy's brother," Roman answered. "Where is that guy, anyway? Did you two pick up scrolls?"

"Where are we supposed to get scrolls?" Rémington asked.

"That would be either Miss Xayide or Miss Wuya's department," Snatcher reminded Roman, "and both are occupied at the moment."

"We'll get him one later," Roman said with a shrug. "All that matters now, Rémy, is that you know where to find Kitty Cat."

"He's not going to like that nickname," Rémy pointed out. "Anyway, I left him in one of the spare apartments."

"Are you guys sharing, or…?" Roman asked.

Rémington shook his head. "I'm sharing with my sweet sorcière and Ayam. There are enough beds in our quarters for us to alternate. Grany got an entire flat to himself."

"A flat for a cat," Snatcher remarked.

"Last I left him, he was curling up on the bed for a slight rest – " Rémington began.

"So a catnap," Roman interrupted.

After a moment of silence, Neo smacked Roman on the back of the head.

"Okay, I deserved that," Roman muttered.

They rushed to the apartment where Grany had been seen last, only to be greeted by the sight of Yzma and Zevon, dressed in white lab coats and dark glasses, bolting from that apartment; Yzma clutched Grany in her arms.

"REMYYYYYYYY!" Grany yelled once he glimpsed his brother. "I DON'T KNOW WHERE SHE'S TAKING ME!"

"WE NEED HIM!" Yzma and Zevon yelled in unison.

Rémington, Roman, Snatcher, and Neo had no choice but to follow the mother-son pair and their feline captive all the way down to the lab.

After all rollercoaster rides deposited their respective passengers at the proper destination, Snatcher, Roman, Neo, and Rémington found Yzma and Zevon setting Grany on Yzma's laboratory table in front of a cat feeding dish filled with pink liquid. Garfield sat some distance away, watching with interest.

"Mother," Zevon pointed out, "we have an audience."

"So we have," Yzma affirmed. Clearing her throat, she announced, "Ladies and gentlemen! As our first act of cooperation as mother and son, Zevon and I have concocted a potion meant to transfigure this rogue from a cat into a human!"

"Hold your applausing!" Zevon picked up.

Grany did a double take. "You know," he said, "if you had told me that's what this was for, I would have come willingly."

"It's been a while since you've been a human," Rémington reminded his brother. "Are you sure you're going to remember how to walk?"

"I'm going to remember how to use my sword," Grany retorted, "which I'll want back."

"But it looks so much better on me."

"You never USE IT!"

Yzma made a show of clearing her throat before saying, "Any time would work, you know."

"All right," Grany resolved, sticking out his tongue to graze the surface of the pink substance. After ascertaining that it didn't taste like one would expect poison to, he lapped it up with gusto.

His transformation was accompanied by a great cloud of pink smoke. "BEHOLD!" Yzma cried, looking to Rémington. "We have restored your brother to his…" The smoke began to clear. "Human…body…oh, my."

Grany Smisse was one of the largest human beings any of them had ever seen, and his body was made up of solid muscle. His height was well in excess of six feet, and his chest brought solid brick walls to mind. This was all topped off by a mop of long, red hair upon his head.

Without looking at each other, Yzma and Zevon raised a hand each: her left and his right. They smacked a high-five.

"Welcome back," Rémington said dryly.

Grany put out a hand. "Sword. Now."

Rémington reluctantly withdrew the sword from his back and passed the hilt on to his brother.

"I will say this makes us far better equipped to infiltrate whatever our next target ends up being," Snatcher pointed out.

"Next target?" Yzma asked.

"Torchwick, the brothers Smisse, Miss Neopolitan, and myself are setting out on a simple mission," Snatcher informed her.

"And you can't come," Roman chimed in.

"The roster has already been solidified," Snatcher clarified.

"Fine by me," Yzma said. "I already have plans anyway."

"Mother and I are going to spend some quality time getting to know each other better," Zevon explained. "We're going back to our old homeworld."

"All right," Garfield chimed in, "I'm gonna stay back at base just so nobody can say I didn't volunteer. If we get invaded again, you're not gonna be able to pin it on me."

"An excellent idea, Mr. Lynns," Snatcher congratulated.

Peter chose this moment to walk out of the medical bay, still clothed in naught but underclothes and the spider-silk bandage. "Hellooooooo," he greeted. Bending both arms in an impossible position behind his back to stretch them out after being bedridden for so long, he asked, "Have I missed anything?"

...

"Have you drawn the proper sigils on the upper tower walls?" Merlin asked.

"Yes," Ienzo replied, "and triple-checked them."

"And the window frames have been brushed with seawater?" Merlin continued.

"Every last one," Aerith confirmed.

"And the protective stones," Merlin went on. "They have been placed in their proper locations?"

Ienzo and Aerith both nodded.

"Then without further ado…"

Merlin lifted his wand, reciting the incantation required to finish off the fortification of Radiant Garden.

Anyone looking at the castle from outside would have seen a shimmer pass over the entire structure from the uppermost towers down to where the walls met the ground; the spell continued down even further than that, into the cellars and where they met with the sewers.

"There," Merlin announced once the ritual was complete. "Now no one gets in or out by the use of magic."

"This should cut back on our Maleficent problems," Ienzo said with a nod.

"She's clever," Aerith reminded Ienzo and Merlin. "I just worry she'll find another way in."

"We're also clever," Ienzo stated. "We'll stop her."

...

Maleficent had been closed into her chambers at Villain's Vale for a substantial amount of time already, speaking to Salem, Hazel, and Watts through the use of the Seer. Tyrian had been shut out of the meeting, much to his dismay; Maleficent had stated that she wished to get to better know those who were strangers to her, and Tyrian, at that point, was no stranger. Hades knew it was about speaking directly to Salem and learning the story of the relics and the maidens in Salem's own words.

Maleficent was good at putting eggs in more than one basket, Hades reflected as he ascended the stairway of the castle into a Corridor that transitioned him seamlessly to the stairway leading up to his throne room in the Underworld. The group still had yet to make any headway on finding the Book of Prophecies. Hades had spoken to Maleficent on the subject, and she had informed him that the information could not be so easily extorted out of Sora without a game plan.

"Can't we just, y'know, hold one of his little pals hostage until the bird squawks?" Hades had asked at the time.

"How well did that work for Xemnas?" Maleficent had responded. "And how well has it worked for us to take even the possessions of our opposition hostage? I refuse to repeat the same methods again and again. No, there will come a better opportunity to ascertain the location of the book from our persistent enemy. A time at which we can leave him with absolutely no choice but to divulge its truthful location."

And she had left it at that.

They had yet found no way for her to be able to absorb the power of the Keyblades, but the blades' owners had not come back to try and acquire them, nor had the owners of the magic wands. Hades had no doubt that Crocea Mors, Magnhild and Stormflower were replaceable; those weapons were simply tossed in back storage closets in case they were needed to melt down for parts later on. Ursula and Grimhilde had been tasked with studying the sand samples brought back from Fantastica and figuring out their magical properties: how best they could be weaponized.

After speaking to both Maleficent and Grimhilde, before Maleficent had holed herself up with Salem's Seer, Hades had learned of his new mission. Maleficent planned for a territory grab; with it would come, hopefully, the access to new literature and weaponry that might put her on the right track toward absorbing the Keyblades and cornering Sora for good. When Grimhilde had turned to her Mirror to scope out the world they intended to dominate, who had shown up there but Mozenrath and four of his lackeys? Granted, Mozenrath had been in terrible shape, and it was likely, Hades thought, that he was about to die any minute. What he was doing so far from home was beyond Hades' ken.

Yet Hades had no intention of carrying out the mission himself. With the forces expanding, he wanted to bolster the faction with someone from his side. Someone who he trusted. A soul he'd been holding captive for quite some time, knowing of the great potential it bore, waiting for the right time to let it out.

The table within his throne room was the lid of the well of Hades' most prized souls. The worst of the worst, he considered it. The Underworld's "deepest dungeon." Those who deserved Tartarus, but he refused to condemn to it because of their potential. After all, Maleficent's forces sometimes required more power, and where better to get it?

He heaved the lid off the entrance, looking down into the swirling green pit below. They all blended together down there, held in stasis, neither rewarded nor punished. Hades was well aware, when this soul had arrived in his domain, that he was supposed to give the victim the maximum punishment he'd mustered up. The entities who had brought him there were absolutely furious with him, and had given him a harrowing ride down. But given the man's résumé, how could Hades really condemn him? He was a powerhouse. A powerhouse that had been stripped of much of his clout, but a headstrong spirit all the same, for him to have gotten into the exact trouble he'd gotten into. Definitely someone to be kept around in case he was needed. Was he needed now? Perhaps, Hades thought. Perhaps. The task he'd been given would benefit from having a fresh eye belonging to a smooth talker who lacked a lot of fear.

He generated a sphere of roaring fire in his left hand, then his right. He raised both hands high, then plunged the flames deep down into the well. Immediately, there was a reaction: an explosion of smoke and crackling electricity, surrounding a single human shape, tall and slender, that rose from the well.

The resurrected soul's feet touched down before Hades, and the smoke swept away to reveal him: a man clothed in black and purple, his skin deeply dark and his hair the shade of night, his strikingly violet eyes hinting at a simmering fire within him that was somewhat dimmed by recent circumstances, but waiting to be lit again at a moment's notice.

"What have we learned?" Hades asked with a sly smirk.

Dr. Facilier glared back at him. "Not to break our word."

"Good," Hades replied. "Now, have I got a job for you. I'd ask if you're interested, but I'm guessing it beats the alternative."

"Floatin' around in an ether between time and space, without a physical body to call my own?" Facilier described. "I'll admit, it gets old."

"Trust me," Hades told Facilier, sidling up to the man and habitually throwing an arm around his bony shoulders, "you were supposed to come off it a LOT worse than you did. Your little 'friends' are NOT happy with you. I was told in no explicit terms that if you ever tried to contact them again, whoo, boy, would you ever regret it! Seriously, how's it feel getting on the bad side of an entire pantheon?"

"That's something I thought you'd know rather well," Facilier said dryly.

"Y'know what?" Hades realized. "You're right. Stupid question. Anyway, on with the show." He began to stride forward, and Facilier walked right alongside him, coaxed into it by the pull of Hades' arm. "So right now, you're at square one. You were at about a negative two, but seeing as right now, you're a lot more useful to Maleficent alive than you are dead, I'd say square one is appropriate. Any magic you had is back to basics. Anything that relied on your 'friends' is now off-limits." They passed a wall-mounted torch with a blue flame, and Hades took that moment to remove his arm from Facilier and step away. "In case it didn't sink in yet." He gestured to the ground.

The torch cast a long shadow from Hades. But from Facilier, there was no shadow at all.

"It's sunken in," Facilier confirmed. "Guess I can't rightfully call myself the 'Shadow Man,' huh?"

"Now, that's where I beg to disagree," Hades told him. "See, commanding an army of shadows is kind of your schtick. You just need shadows you can actually boss around. I'm thinking we make you into a different kind of Shadow Man."

Facilier's curiosity was piqued. "Do tell."

Hades snapped his fingers, and a host of Shadow Heartless rose from the ground. "Behold," he announced, "the Heartless! Mindless creatures of Darkness that – "

"I know what Heartless are," Facilier huffed. "I don't know if you're used to workin' with people who actually pay attention to the Darkness, but I do."

"What do you say I make you an absolute LORD of Heartless?" Hades proposed. "You get to command everything from these…"

He clapped twice, then brought Facilier's attention to the window. Outside, a Dark Thorn raised its head and roared toward the upper extremities of the Underworld.

"To that," Hades promised. "And beyond."

"I like where this is goin'," Facilier admitted. "Here's hopin' the catch is worth it."

"Catch?" Hades tried to look ignorant. "What catch? Who said anything about a catch?"

"This is part of a deal, ain't it?" Facilier asked. "Don't con a con man, Hades. There's always a catch."

"No catch," Hades promised. "A price? Sure. But not a catch. All I ask for in your end of the deal is loyalty. Not even to me. To Maleficent."

"So y'all can order me around. Make me your valet."

"Well, there may be slight giving of orders," Hades admitted. "But I was thinking less 'valet' and more 'commander.' See, Mal's got a big power play in the works. We need a guy busted out of jail, we need a nation taken over in the name of Maleficent, and we need five meddlers nipped in the bud before they make trouble. Wait, make that four. One of them's gonna kick the bucket any minute now. Anyway, the point is, you get the Heartless, you get whatever else you want in your bag of tricks as far as we can give you by way of magic, and you call the shots."

"Why me, and why now?" Facilier asked. "Surely you've made similar power plays with other folks."

"Because ever since you showed up," Hades admitted, "I've been trying to figure out what to do with the guy who had the guts to try and bargain with the souls of an entire city."

"Then why didn't you turn me loose from the moment I showed up?" Facilier's violet eyes burned with derision.

"We have had a busy agenda, okay?" Hades told him. "So you got a little lost in the shuffle."

"If I'm going to work for this Maleficent," Facilier stated, "I want more than just power over Heartless."

"What else could you possibly want?"  
"Respect," Facilier stated. "The respect I deserve."

"Then that's part of the deal," Hades promised. "I'll spread the word about what you did and what you're going to do. Trust me, you'll love the rest of the crew. Blend right in. Any of the lower-echelon minions get mouthy to you, they answer to me. As for me, Mal, and the big bosses, we give you what you deserve. Do well out there, and you get rewarded. Screw up, and I can't guarantee exactly what Mal will want to do with you, but trust me, it'll only be what you deserve. As you said. So. Whaddaya say?" He extended his right hand.

Facilier was used to being on the other end of the situation. And he knew, were he most of his clients, that he wouldn't have shaken his own hand. It probably wasn't wise to forge such a contract with Hades. Why swear loyalty to a woman he had never met?

But he had little other choice. And perhaps Hades was right after all. Perhaps he would find kindred spirits in Hades' circle. And he had agreed to give Facilier as much as he deserved – which he knew would be a lot better than he'd gotten all his life.

He had to make the unwise choice. A second chance, no matter the circumstances, was all he'd hoped for. He couldn't turn it down.

"You've got yourself a deal," Facilier promised, shaking Hades' hand.

...

The city of Ba Sing Se had seemed the most natural midpoint between the two poles and therefore the proper starting point for Vexen's team to begin seeking information about which direction to go in order to find the location of the Spirit Waters. Thus it was there that Vexen proclaimed the search would begin.

Of course, transporting Mozenrath was no easy matter. Wuya and Xayide had made a suggestion completely in jest for how he could be moved about without too much jostling, and Mozenrath had unfortunately taken to it and insisted it be the method they used. With no better ideas, Wuya, Mim, Xayide, and the Huntsman each held a pole supporting a small litter upon which Mozenrath was borne, propped in a high-backed chair so he could sit tall and appear confident. Mim had given herself some extra height and muscle; the others simply had to bear the weight, which was admittedly heavier on their dignity than their bodies. Vexen walked out front of this display, leading the way.

"I told you that would only attract attention," Vexen grumbled.

"And is there any reason I shouldn't attract attention?" Mozenrath retorted.

"Here?" Vexen replied. "A multitude of reasons, none of which should be discussed in the open. Just count yourself lucky we were able to appear in the midst of the city. Had we used a traditional entrance, we would find ourselves under intense scrutiny from the moment of our arrival."

Unfortunately for Vexen, the very eyes he had hoped to avoid had set the odd crew in their sights anyway. Agents holding secret positions on the street corners took notice of the strangers' odd dress and their bearing of the litter as though it contained royalty. They chose not to confront the strange spectacle upfront, not yet having a complete assessment of it. But all the same, they followed.

"I intend to drop you off at a safe place," Vexen told Mozenrath. "I will give you further instruction once we are settled. Then the rest of us will begin to seek out information on the Spirit Waters."

"At this point," Wuya grunted, "I'm almost not sure if it's worth it." When she saw the glare the Huntsman had fired in her direction, she groaned, "It was a JOKE! You can't honestly say you like having to carry this litter around!"

"It is what has to be done," the Huntsman stated.

After a short walk through the winding streets among stone walls and triangular gables, they entered an inn, surprising the receptionist with their grand entrance, and paid for a room. They were shown upstairs, where they deposited Mozenrath in a spacious and soft bed.

Making sure the door to the room was shut, Vexen leaned in closely to Mozenrath's ear and hissed, "Ba Sing Se is a city of order and security. You should be safe here, but if anyone asks you anything, do not get cocky. Refuse to answer any and all questions about yourself or your purpose here. Should anything go amiss, contact us via scroll immediately. And whatever you do, stay as STILL AS POSSIBLE. Exertion of your body will only speed up the process of wasting away."

"I get it already," Mozenrath groaned. "Is there anything else you want me to not do, Mom?"

"Take this seriously," Vexen growled. "Your very life is on the line. Now, the five of us should return shortly with information and be able to transport you to a more useful location. In the meantime, I suggest you sleep if you can."

"You realize this is humiliating," Mozenrath sighed.

"You realize what we all have to lose if you do not keep what little health you have left," Vexen snapped.

"Fine," Mozenrath relented. "I won't move. And I won't talk to anybody."

"Good." Vexen turned on a heel. "Xayide, Mim, Wuya, Huntsman. Follow me."

It took them a moment to do so. Mim was the first to trot after Vexen, followed by a concerned-looking Xayide and Wuya, both of whom were unsure if they should say anything in parting. The Huntsman lingered, moving to stand over Mozenrath's bed.

"You needn't fear," the Huntsman said softly as he tugged at the upper edge of Mozenrath's blanket, tucking it snugly around the young sorcerer's shoulders. "I am aware of the blow this must feel to you. But it is temporary. You shall be on your feet again. I will ensure it."

Mozenrath very nearly lost control of his words then, almost tapping into the part of him that was becoming very frightened of the real possibility of his death and the fact that his last moments, instead of a grand power play, were going to be spent wasting away in a bed with no agency over how he left the land of the living whatsoever. But his barriers hardened, and he confessed none of this to the Huntsman. Instead, he looked up into the Huntsman's blood-red eyes with somewhat of thankfulness for the small gesture of adjusting the blanket. "I know," he said, sounding for all the world like he believed it.

But the Huntsman knew the truth.

"We shall return soon," the Huntsman promised before turning to leave the room and find Vexen standing outside the door, tapping his foot impatiently. The door was shut, and Mozenrath was left alone.

Mozenrath shut his eyes immediately, begging sleep to come. It was better than facing reality.

...

It had not been a pleasant day for Dexter Egan, the aging caretaker of the Wickford Castle Ski Resort. He still had no leads on the vandalism of the resort's library, having to keep the room off-limits and the intruder alarm set. Beyond that, Professor Beatrice Hotchkiss, one of the resort's more obnoxious guests, was still pestering him about her room having been robbed, though Egan wasn't entirely convinced she wasn't making it up. Now, as he sorted through papers at the front desk, he could hear the gossiping of Lisa Ostrum and her new friend whose name he couldn't remember filtering in from the adjacent reading room. Well, at least they were enjoying themselves and not complaining, Dexter thought.

The weather was ghastly outside, proving the worst of a Wisconsin winter. Dexter was sure that anyone who had planned to check in to the resort that day would be deterred, deciding to turn right around when they became aware of the blizzard conditions. Ergo, he expected to have a slow day when it came to check-ins. He kept his head down, focusing on his paperwork.

It surprised him when he heard the front door open and shut, followed by the sound of several footsteps, one set in high heels, crossing the lobby floor. A male voice muttered, "I hate the snow, I hate the snow, I HATE the snow – "

When Dexter raised his head, he was surprised to behold the crowd of five that had appeared before him. He supposed they must have been en route either to or from some sort of formal occasion. That, or one of those "live-action role plays" he had heard whispers of among the younger crowd. Two of the men were dressed all in black with flowing capes, almost looking more like bandits than gentlemen. One man, the one who was muttering the constant mantra of complaints about the weather as he slid his palms rapidly over his arms, was decked out in a suit marked by a long white jacket, topped off with a black bowler hat. The woman (at least, Dexter was convinced he was looking at a woman) leading the group was clothed in a floor-length blue cocktail gown, her red hair heaped high above her head. The only one who seemed to be dressed relatively normally by Dexter's standard was the shorter woman of the group, whose outfit, though layered with complexity, featured causal trousers. Dexter did think, however, that she must have had a little too much fun with hair dye. The entire contingent was dusted over with a light coating of snow from the fall outdoors, and each carried a sizeable suitcase, save for the shivering man in white; the short woman hefted two cases, and presumably one belonged to him.

"Can I help you?" Dexter grunted, doing his best to sound welcoming and rather failing at it.

"Why, yes," the tall woman in the blue gown answered. "My companions and I are seeking to reserve three rooms."

"Well," Egan sighed, "let's get you settled."

With a few quick strokes of a pen and some alternating sheets of paper, three rooms were set aside for the odd group. Dexter doled out three key cards.

"What brings you all the way out here?" Dexter asked. "This ain't skiing weather."

"No shit," the man in white muttered.

"Oh, and we so had wished to enjoy the mountain slopes." The redhead's voice was heavy with an accent Dexter didn't recognize, but placed as vaguely European. "Perhaps in time, the weather shall clear. We had reserved this time, after all."

"Might as well enjoy our vacation indoors," the shorter of the men in black remarked. "That, or we could just try and ski anyway." He nudged the man in white. "We could throw you out onto the slope and watch you try to dodge the weather. That'd be fun for most of us."

"NO," the man in white insisted. "No, no, and no."

"Now, I'm certain there will be plenty we can do to pass the time," the redhead insisted. "Is that not right, Monsieur…?"

"Egan," Dexter filled in. "Dexter Egan." He nodded. "About the only thing you can't do is use the library."

"And why not?" the redhead asked, pouting slightly. Perhaps she was a bookworm, Dexter thought.

"The whole place was vandalized," Dexter explained. "It's off-limits. And don't think you can sneak in there without me knowing. I have an alarm set."

"Oh, whyever would we want to flagrantly disregard the house rules in such a disrespectful way?" She seemed taken aback, flustered. Dexter began to wonder if he'd been too accusatory toward her. "Worry not, Monsieur Egan. We shan't trespass. I do hope you identify the perpetrator soon and bring them to justice."

"I do too," Dexter grumbled.

"We should probably keep you no longer," the redhead stated, holding her key card up in two fingers. "Thank you ever so much for checking us in to your gorgeous establishment. It is almost reminiscent of a medieval castle, no?"

"That's my job," Dexter reminded her, "and that was the point."

"It has been a pleasure," the redhead stated as she turned to lead her companions up the stairs to their newly rented rooms. As her gaze fell on the still miffed and snow-covered man in the white jacket, she dropped her suitcase, rushing to place her hands on his upper arms; "Oh, my poor dear! We simply must get you warmed up immediately."

The man in white responded to this with a smile as he leaned slightly back against the redheaded woman; Dexter could tell they were involved with each other. They walked up the stairs in this position of contact; the two men in black came right behind. The short woman rolled her eyes, which Dexter only just noticed were heterochromatic, and found a way to shuffle the newly dropped suitcase into her hands among the two she already bore before trotting up the stairs after her companions.

Dexter took another look at the name the redhead had used to sign into check-in. It was a bit strange to his eyes, but then again, he'd already taken on a guest named "Beatrice Hotchkiss." On that ground, he had no right to judge "Penelope A. Frou Frou."

...

A/N: First of all, the Wickford Castle is indeed from the Nancy Drew point-and-click video game series. I am rolling with a rather strange AU for that universe: my premise is that Nancy has never entered any of the locales in which the games take place, and the mysteries remain unsolved, leaving room for our villain protagonists to step in and uncover some things for themselves.

On Facilier: I realize the Hollywood-esque portrayal of Voodoo that surrounds him is not the most accurate, and recognize that this is problematic. I'm hoping to try and do some better justice by giving him Heartless to command rather than actively writing the Voodoo gods continuing to bend to his whims in exchange for evil deeds. However, given what's already happened in canon and the nature of this story, I admit that using him is always going to be a little problematic…and I enjoy his character so much that I felt passionate about including him. I welcome constructive criticism on how to better portray him going forward.


	47. Bare Your Souls

1\. 47. Bare Your Souls

Avatar Aang had borne an incredible destiny on his shoulders at a young age. The reincarnation of a soul that had undergone countless identities, he had battled the corrupt lord of the Fire Nation, leading to the liberation of an oppressed people and building pathways to harmony between the peoples of the World of Four Nations. To that day, he was an ambassador, hailed worldwide as a hero and looked to by the people of the world whenever crisis came calling.

And on that bright and sunny afternoon, Aang was found on a Fire Nation beach with two of his friends, trying to teach one of them how to surf.

"If you get your balance right on land," Aang explained, "it'll be a lot easier when you're on the water."

"I still think I look stupid," Fire Lord Zuko complained as he stood upon a wood-carved surfboard planted in the sand, arms out to either side.

"You don't," Katara reassured him. "Though you have your feet in the wrong spot. You need to move your right foot back a little."

The three had united for a diplomatic mission, but with political work done, they were free to pursue recreation. Due to the clement weather, Aang and Zuko were dressed only in pants, the blue arrows that adorned Aang's body and shaven head in full view. Katara wore modest swimwear, letting her long, dark hair flow loose.

"Let's try it in the water now!" Aang insisted.

"I don't think – " Zuko tried to protest.

"Come on, Zuko!" Aang was already running down the breadth of the sand to immerse himself in the water.

Katara laughed. "No stopping him now. Don't worry; you're going to do great. You've got the position down perfectly!"

"If you say so." Zuko hoisted up the board, and he and Katara walked down to the water.

The light wind created small rolling waves; Zuko set up to catch one, wobbling on the board. With a "Wh-wha-WHOA!", he toppled and splashed into the water. Popping his head above the surface and shaking his shaggy dark hair, he groaned, "Don't tell me. I need more practice."

"You'll get the hang of it!" Aang said encouragingly. Then, without warning: "SPLASH FIGHT!" He motioned toward Zuko with both arms; the water of the ocean followed his direction, surging over Zuko.

"HEY!" Zuko complained, paddling over toward Aang to attempt to splash him by simply flinging water.

Katara sent a deluge at both boys using the same technique Aang had done. "That's it," Zuko groaned, though a smile adorned his face. "I'm leaving this one to the waterbenders."

Aang looked to Katara; "You're on!"

"Oh yeah?" Katara replied.

The two sent wave after wave of water at one another, laughing and squealing while Zuko swam his way to shore. Zuko found a comfortable position to sit on the sand, letting the sun dry him off.

That was when Sora, Ruby, Jasmine, Stork, and Papyrus stepped onto the beach. "They look like they're having fun," Sora commented when he looked out at Aang and Katara's water war.

"Huh." Ruby looked to Zuko. "I wonder if that guy's okay."

"Let's find out!" Sora decided, running toward Zuko.

"Ummm, how about we NOT just go charging at strangers before we know whether or not they could be serial killers?" Stork called after him. This was followed by a roll of the eyes and a declaration that "We're all going over there, aren't we?"

As five shadows fell over Zuko, he looked up to see who had approached.

"Hey there!" Ruby waved. "We were just passing through and – "

Zuko screamed, leaping to his feet and running across the beach.

"I WONDER WHAT GOT INTO HIM?" Papyrus mused.

"You can talk!" Zuko cried as he observed the crowd from a safe distance.

"Oh," Jasmine realized. "There mustn't be monsters on this world." She stepped closer to Zuko. "It's all right. Papyrus is a friend!"

By that time, Aang and Katara had run to shore to see what all the fuss was about. "What's going on?" Katara asked.

"Whoa…" Aang let his eyes settle on the group. "You don't have any skin! That's so cool!"

"COOL?" Zuko sputtered. "Aang, he's a…he's a…I don't know what he is! Or that green one!"

Aang gaped in awe at Stork. "I've never seen somebody with green skin before!"

"Aang!" Katara snapped.

"Oh, sorry…" Aang said earnestly, "that was rude. It looks really good, though."

"Um…thanks…?" Stork replied, unsure whether or not to take it as a compliment.

"Zuko!" Katara called back to her friend. "Stop being afraid of them just because of how they look and get over here!"

Zuko exhaled deeply, knowing Katara was right, before approaching the group. "I apologize," he said somberly. "I didn't mean to offend you."

Stork very nearly made a snide comment about how they didn't see him pointing and screaming at the burn scar that enveloped Zuko's left eye. However, common sense and decency held him back.

"NEVER FEAR!" Papyrus remarked. "I AM WELL AWARE THAT THE MERE SIGHT OF MY GREATNESS IS TOO MUCH FOR SOME PEOPLE TO BEAR! I DO NOT JUDGE!"

"I'm guessing you're not from the Fire Nation," Aang observed.

"So this is the Fire Nation," Sora mused. "Huh. Good to know!"

"You didn't know you were in the Fire Nation?" Zuko said, perplexed. "How?"

It was time to put the new policy into effect. "Well," Sora said, "we're not exactly from this world."

"Wait, WHAT?" Katara snapped.

"Are you from the Spirit Realm?" Aang wondered out loud.

"Well, no," Sora answered. "Not exactly. Or…at all."

"I don't know what you're trying to pull off," Zuko said sternly, "but we know there's no such thing as any other world besides this one and the Spirit Realm."

"It's multiple worlds," Ruby tried to clear up. "Each of us is from a different one."

"How do you KNOW it's not true, Zuko?" Aang argued.

"If they're really from another world," Zuko said coldly, "let's have them prove it."

"And how are we supposed to do that?" Stork asked.

"Well…" Katara thought it over. "It already helps your case that we've never seen people like you before. Are any of you benders?"

"Benders?" Jasmine repeated.

"You know," Katara urged. "Fire, water, air, earth?"

"Oh, yeah!" Sora summoned his Keyblade, which prompted a flinch from Aang, Zuko, and Katara. "Like this! FIRE!" He sent a blast of flame soaring out over the ocean. "FREEZE!" A bolt of ice shot in the same direction. "WIND!" He became surrounded in a small cyclone of protective air. Then he shrugged; "I don't have anything for earth."

"He's…" Katara gaped. "He's an AVATAR?"

"That's not possible," Zuko stated.

"Not if he was on this world," Aang agreed. "I know he isn't me. But maybe he's the Avatar of his own world."

"What's an Avatar?" Sora asked.

"The Avatar is able to bend all four elements," Katara explained. "Water, earth, fire, and air. The Avatar is looked upon as a savior of this world. Someone who helps keep the peace between the nations."

"And I'm the Avatar of this world!" Aang said with a wide smile.

"Every Avatar is a reincarnation of the last one," Katara went on, "and all of their lives continue in the Avatar who's currently alive. That's why Aang said he knew you weren't him."

"I think I get it," Sora reiterated. "So…people on this world have magic for one of the elements, but only one person has all four, and when that person dies, they just get reborn as someone new."

"It isn't magic!" Katara snapped. "It's bending!"

"Well, mine's magic," Sora stated. "I guess our worlds really are different. I'm not an Avatar. I was just doing spells that a lot of people I know can do. I don't think I have any past lives, but maybe I just don't know about them."

"What about the rest of you?" Katara asked.

"No magic here," Ruby replied. "Or bending. Just my Semblance. It's like a superpower. I can run faster than a lot of people."

"No magic, no bending, no Semblance," Stork chimed in.

"I HAVE QUITE A LOT OF MAGIC!" Papyrus bragged. "I AM PRACTICALLY MADE OF MAGIC! BEHOLD!" A structure of bones spelling out the words "Hello friends" planted itself in the sand.

"Whoa…" Aang knelt down and poked the bones. "That's really cool. It's like…bone-bending."

"No bending here," Jasmine concluded, "and no permanent magic."

"Aang," Katara said, "I'm starting to believe them."

"I'm sure they're telling the truth!" Aang nodded enthusiastically as he stood up.

"This still doesn't seem right to me," Zuko said warily. "They could be using some kind of theatre effects to make it look like they can do those things."

Sora ignored him. "What about you guys?" he asked. "You already said Aang could bend all four elements. What can you do?"

"I'm a waterbender," Katara explained. "Watch this." She put out a hand, motioning for a stream of water to spurt up from the ocean and twist itself into complex shapes.

When Zuko didn't chime in, Aang walked toward him and nudged him. "Tell them, Zuko!"

"I'm not just going to tell them information they could use against us," Zuko said coldly. "I wasn't even going to tell them my name."

"Oh." Aang realized he'd given that away. "Sorry."

"You sound a lot like Stork," Sora said, motioning toward whom he'd indicated.

"And now THEY know MY name," Stork groaned.

"Well, I'm Sora," Sora went on. "These are my friends Ruby, Stork, Jasmine, and Papyrus. So you're Aang, and you're Zuko." He pointed to each in turn. "That leaves…" He gestured to Katara.

"I'm Katara," Katara introduced, placing a hand on her collarbone to indicate herself.

"It's wonderful to meet all of you," Jasmine said contently.

"You sure looked like you were having some fun earlier," Sora added.

"Wanna join us?" Aang asked. "I thought maybe we could build a sand castle together. I won't even use any earthbending; we'll make it the old-fashioned way."

"Aang!" Zuko chided. "We barely know these people, and you want to invite them to make a sand castle with us? Besides, they all look too old for sand castles."

This set Ruby and Papyrus off into a sequence of unconvincing denial:

"What? Sand castle? Of course I'm too old for sand castles…eheheheheh…"

"I AM FAR BEYOND SUCH CHILDISH THINGS! EVEN THOUGH I COULD PROBABLY CONSTRUCT SUCH A CASTLE THAT YOU WOULD ALL WISH IT WAS REAL SO YOU COULD LIVE IN IT! BUT I DO NOT ACTUALLY WISH TO DO SUCH A THING!"

"I mean, it sounds great and all, but, you know, at some point, you…can't just cling to childish things as evil just grows closer…wow, that sounded poetic. I better write that down."

"I AM ABSOLUTELY, DEFINITELY TOO OLD TO BUILD SAND CASTLES. NO MATTER HOW FUN IT SOUNDS…OR WOULD SOUND IF I WERE A CHILD!"

Sora broke the cycle: "Well, you all look about the same age as Ruby and me, and you're making a sand castle."

"No one's too old for sand castles!" Aang insisted.

"I think I agree with Aang," Jasmine stated.

"Let's do this!" Sora and Aang both ran down to the area of the beach where the sand was still wet from the last outgoing tide.

"Weeeeeelllllll…I guess I could help you build ONE castle," Ruby relented.

"IT SIMPLY WOULD NOT BE A CASTLE THAT HOLDS UP TO ITS TRUE POTENTIAL WITHOUT US WORKING ON IT," Papyrus agreed.

"You're really not fooling anyone," Stork told them. "Either of you."

"Okay, I really just wanna play with the sand!" Ruby broke down.

"WE ARE COMING!" Papyrus announced, leading Ruby and Jasmine down to the shore's edge to help collect wet sand; Katara, laughing, joined the group. Zuko and Stork were left to stare each other down.

"I'm watching you," Stork growled.

"And I have my eye on you," Zuko added.

They turned in unison and marched down to join their friends in sculpting what quickly became a sprawling structure of varying architectural styles.

"So you help keep the peace between the nations," Sora said to Aang. "Have you had any cool adventures along the way?"

"Well, one big one," Aang informed him. "And it was only sort of cool. It was also sort of scary. When I started out, I only knew how to earthbend, and Katara and her brother Sokka took me across the world to learn how to master the other four elements. That's how we met Zuko and our other friends Toph and Suki. But that was back when the Fire Nation was ruled by Fire Lord Ozai, and the world was in danger of him."

"Maybe we better not discuss this right now," Katara suggested, thinking of how Zuko might react.

"No," Zuko sighed. "It's okay. If we are going to tell them about ourselves, you might as well tell them the whole story. Ozai was my father. At first, he banished me from our kingdom and ordered me to capture Aang so he couldn't stop my father from ruling the world with an iron fist. All the while, he was planning to subjugate the other nations. The Fire Nation had already wiped out the Air Nomads, and my father wanted to do the same to the Earth Kingdom. My eyes became open to how evil he truly was. I thought I had to earn my honor from him, but all the while, it turned out that doing what was right meant defying him. Aang helped me see that."

"Sounds like a good thing you're around," Ruby remarked.

"Well, it almost wasn't," Aang sighed. "I actually learned I was the Avatar a hundred years ago, when the conflict with the Fire Nation was still just beginning. I didn't want all the responsibility of it, so I ran away. I got caught in a storm and I ended up stuck in an iceberg for a hundred years. I wasn't there to stop the Fire Nation from killing all the Air Nomads. I wasn't there to stop them from taking over the world. If Katara and Sokka hadn't found me, then the Earth Kingdom might actually have been destroyed."

"But we DID find you," Katara reminded him, "and we DID stop Ozai. Now the nations are at peace! Even though you weren't there then, you're here now. And you did the right thing."

"IT SOUNDS LIKE THIS STORY HAD A HAPPY ENDING TO ME!" Papyrus stated.

"Oh boy," Stork sighed. "Then you're really not gonna like the reason why we're here."

"Why not?" Katara asked. "What's wrong?"

"Well…we sort of came here following a bunch of bad guys from other worlds who are after powerful things," Ruby admitted. "And wherever they end up, bad stuff seems to happen."

"Like what?" Katara asked.

"DO YOU HAVE TIME FOR A STORY OF MORE THAN AVERAGE LENGTH?" Papyrus asked.

"Our whole afternoon is clear," Aang informed the group.

"Let's hear it!" Katara encouraged.

"Okay," Sora began. "Here goes."

As Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, Stork, and Jasmine related their tale, the sand castle became larger and ever more dissonant: a collaborative work of artistry.

...

Aghoul reverently placed the Eliacube upon its space in the floor diagram next to the Dust, the Aurora Stone shards, the six souls, the Cornerstone of Light, the grain of colorless sand, and the Elements of Harmony. Over halfway done, he thought to himself. Five more to go.

On his way out of the room, he crossed paths with Yzma and Zevon. "Well, well," he remarked, "if it isn't mother and son in the still-living flesh. And where are you off to?"

"To our homeworld," Yzma explained, "for some much-needed relaxation and bonding time."

"I hope you weren't planning on using the Gummi ship to get there," Aghoul stated. "Snatcher, Roman, Neo, and the brothers Smisse departed in it not too long ago."

"Drat," Yzma muttered. "I don't suppose you could conjure up a Corridor – "

"Oh, I see where this is going," Aghoul grumbled. "I open a Corridor for you, you drag me along so I know when to bring you back, I end up at a spa getting all sorts of nasty pastes and creams slathered on my perfectly dry skin…no thank you!" He folded his arms.

"Then don't come," Yzma told him. "Stay back here, or we'll call you when we need you to make the return Corridor."

It took Aghoul a moment to realize Yzma had meant to say "and." "I'm not your servant!" Aghoul huffed.

"Well, it's not like we have another Gummi ship just lying around somewhere outside the ship!" Yzma groaned.

"Unless you count the one I absotively did not crash," Zevon brought up.

"That's it!" Yzma cried, seizing Zevon by the forearms and shaking him lightly. "The ship you crashed! BRILLIANT! All we need to do is fix it up and we'll be ready to move out!"

"Do you know how to reparate a ship?" Zevon asked.

"Of course I do!" Yzma snapped. "What do you take me for, some kind of idiot? What about you?"

"I drove one, so of course I know how to fix one!"

As Aghoul watched the duo walk away, he shook his head, knowing full well from context that neither one knew the first thing about Gummi ship maintenance.

Half an hour later, Garfield and Peter were making their way down the halls, still familiarizing themselves with the ship. "I just hope you didn't get too bent out of shape over me, is all," Peter stated. "That's my job."

"Yeah, well, I've been burned before."

As they playfully shoved each other, Yzma and Zevon came sprinting down from behind, seizing each by the arm and dragging them down to the Gummi hangar. "You're coming with us!" Yzma declared.

"What did we do?" Garfield snapped.

"Mother informated me you have experientials working on armor," Zevon replied. "If you can forge armor, you can fix a Gummi ship engine."

"And YOU'RE coming along," Yzma told Peter, "because four heads are better than three when it comes to maintenance."

"Seriously?" Garfield groaned.

"It's not that we don't know how to maintain a Gummi ship," Yzma said defensively. "It's just…a very large ship."

They arrived in the hangar to view Zevon's craft: dented, definitely damaged. And unbeknownst to Peter and Garfield, it had looked far better before Zevon and Yzma had tried to "fix" it.

Garfield sighed. "Fine. I'll help."

"Might as well see what I can do," Peter agreed.

"But shouldn't we have some kind of technological division for this stuff?" Garfield asked.

"I'll put a pin in that," Yzma stated. "Now, let's GET TO WORK!"

She raised her right hand, and Zevon raised his left. Peter and Garfield immediately picked up the cue, smacking high-fives to the corresponding hands. Then they set upon the ship.

...

A Gummi ship landed on the edge of Terra Atmosia. From its doors walked Riku, Aladdin, Nora, Sadira, Nick, Luna, Jaune, Kairi, Madison, Vida, Chip, and Moana; Genie and Carpet sailed out aboveground. Finally, bringing up the rear, Dilan stormed his way onto Atmosian ground, clutching a book in hand.

"You didn't have to come," Sadira teased Dilan, noting the grumpy look on his face.

"Leon insisted more protection was needed after the last incident," Dilan stated. "I was not inclined to argue. I am as much as we could spare without compromising the safety of the Committee."

An Atmosian representative rushed forth to greet the crew. "Good!" he sighed. "You're here! We received word help would be arriving! Who's in charge?"

To Kairi's surprise, everyone looked to her. As she sought the proper words, Riku gave her an encouraging nod.

"That's apparently me," Kairi said at last. "How can we help?"

"There's no shortage of things that need to be done," the Atmosian representative groaned. "Homes and government facilities need to be rebuilt. Food needs to be provided to tide us over until we can get systems in place once more, as well as numerous other supplies. The people are in a state of unrest, and no one is able to calm down. Now that the shards of the Aurora Stone are gone, the skies have been dark. And there is the matter of the…funerals that have yet to be held. That's on this Terra alone."

Kairi nodded. "We'll do our best. We've brought several supplies already; we'll distribute what we have. Actually, let's break up into teams! The Mystic Rangers can look out for construction, the Agrabanian contingent can distribute our supplies, Team RNJR can check in with the morgue, Moana and Luna can team up to figure out how we can inspire everyone, and Riku and I will work on a way to light the Terra back up while Dilan supervises. That way, everyone's working with who they know best. I know some of these tasks are going to be harder than others, but – "

"We can handle building a few houses," Nick asserted.

"Talking to grieving families won't be easy," Jaune added, "but Nora, Ren, and I have all been there. We can make it work."

In a flash, Genie was clothed in a polo shirt and a headband with a brim, holding out a pizza box. "Diiiiiiid somebody order the emergency rations special?"

"By the time we leave this place," Luna insisted with a stamp of her hoof upon the ground, "the people WILL be inspired!"

"Thank you," the Atmosian representative sighed. "You don't know how much it means. We can lend you skimmers, too, if you need to travel off-Terra. I have many, many duties I need to attend to, so you'll forgive me if I leave you to your own devices."

"You go ahead," Kairi told him. "We'll catch up!"

The representative took off at a dash.

Kairi looked over the group. "Thanks for agreeing to work with my plan," she said gratefully. "But why put me in charge?"

"You are the princess of Radiant Garden, out of which our operation is based," Dilan stated, matter-of-fact. "We all know Leon wished for you to take a stronger hand in the operation."

"You're gonna be great in charge," Riku encouraged. "Sora and I could probably have avoided a lot of trouble if we'd listened to you more back home."

"I don't know about that," Kairi giggled. "Anyway, we have a lot of work to do, so let's get started."

The five groups broke off and went separate directions.

"Hang on," Kairi realized. "I think I left my sword on the ship. I should probably have that in case of Heartless."

She dashed back onto the Gummi ship, seeking out her blade. Locating it, she sent it into the same place as the sketchbook she carried for easy retrieval later. As she turned to exit the ship, she heard a distinct voice, one she recognized:

"Are you sure it was a good idea to put HER in charge?"

"Huh?" Kairi rushed outside of the ship, looking around. "Chip? Was that you?"

"Is something wrong?" Riku asked.

"I just thought I heard Chip…" Kairi trailed off, shaking her head. "It was probably my imagination. Let's go!"

...

Once Roman, Snatcher, Rémington, Grany, and Neo had settled their luggage in their rooms – one for Roman and Snatcher, one for the Smisses, and one for Neo by herself – they all gathered in Snatcher and Roman's room to discuss the game plan. Snatcher and Roman both sat on the bed; Roman wrapped the blanket around himself, sighing contentedly as the unpleasant chill of the outdoor snow left him. Rémington, Grany, and Neo pulled up three chairs from the small table and desk in the fairly sizeable room. The team circled up.

"I still don't get why we're here," Rémington reiterated. "You literally found a travel brochure in a rest stop near where we landed and decided we had to rob a hotel. Wouldn't a bank make more sense? Or a museum?"

"Now, now, Mr. Smisse," Snatcher said in his natural timbre, "I chose this location because of its history. It's quite old. And old buildings are full of secrets. From our check-in, I do believe we've been handed enough evidence to confirm my little theory."

Neo nodded, motioning as though she were opening a book and turning the pages.

Snatcher pointed at her triumphantly. "PRECISELY, Miss Neopolitan! As the library of this establishment was, in fact, vandalized, it is safe to assume the perpetrator was on the hunt for something valuable."

"You think there's some kind of hidden treasure in this place?" Grany asked.

"Perhaps," Snatcher mused. "Or perhaps information that can be held for blackmail. One never knows. The only certainty is that this building begs for more exploration. Our first order of business, of course, shall be finding our way into that library."

"Y'know, it's really too bad," Roman lamented. "Give me a few minutes with a screwdriver and a wire cutter, both of which I packed, and I could have that burglar alarm knocked out. The problem is by the time a few minutes were up, the alarm would already have gone off."

"Perhaps I can talk our way into entry," Snatcher suggested. "Our receptionist might be holding his ground now, but if Madame Frou Frou should ask in just the right manner, he could be worn down."

"Grany and I will look around some more and find out if there's anything else we should be paying attention to," Rémington volunteered.

Neo nodded, pointing to herself. Then she put her hands together, making a show of separating them.

"Right," Roman translated. "So you'll go case the place too, but you'll split up from the Smisses. Good call, Neo."

"The other factor to recall," Snatcher pointed out, "is that the evening is drawing to a close. Moving about too much after hours may raise suspicions. Keep that in mind as you do your exploration. Perhaps it is best for us to reconvene in the morning. Shall we say six?"

"Archie, no," Roman groaned. "Eleven or nothing."

Snatcher shrugged. "I suppose we are on no timetable. Eleven in the morning, then."

Rémington stood up. "I'm going to get as much snooping in as I can before things start to look suspicious. Grany?"

Grany rose from his seat as well. "I'm with you."

Neo nodded, joining them.

"See you all in the morning," Rémington said as the three departed the room.

Roman sighed, letting the blanket down. "As tempting as it is to scope out our new digs, I am in need of an incredibly hot shower." He stood up, making his way to the adjacent bathroom, dropping his jacket on the floor on the way.

As Roman disappeared into the bathroom, door cracked slightly, Snatcher got a better sense of his surroundings, searching a dresser drawer to find a menu of available food before getting a glance at the magazines on the table.

"Hey, Archie," Roman called from the bathroom. "It's a tub-sized shower in here."

"That's nice, Torchwick."

"I'm saying there's room in here for two, if you're interested."

Snatcher suddenly lost all desire to keep scouting the room. "Just a moment!" he called back as he began to undo the laces of his dress.

...

Ba Sing Se was practically a labyrinth; the journey from Mozenrath's resting place to the location where Vexen was sure information could be obtained was long and winding. That gave Vexen plenty of time to lecture his companions about the nature of their mission.

"There is a reason, of course, we are at least attempting to be covert about our actions," he explained in a low mutter, forcing the Huntsman, Wuya, Mim, and Xayide to huddle into close quarters around him – an arrangement that made him bristle with discomfort. "The Earth Kingdom is crawling with the Dai Li. They are government agents who claim to be officers of culture, but in fact are spymasters, rooting out any oddity in order to keep their kingdom under the illusion that it is free of conflict. Even mentioning their name thus is dangerous, but a necessary evil in order to prevent you from saying anything you shouldn't in a more pressing situation."

"A statement we shall take to heart," the Huntsman replied.

"Why do we have to be all secret about what we're doing?" Mim grunted. "You were the one who picked us out because we were powerful! If they figure us out, we'll just burn down the entire city!"

"I would prefer to keep a low profile for as long as possible," Vexen said dryly. "The Dai Li are incredibly skilled earthbenders. Powerful as we are, should we stir up trouble, we may find ourselves fighting a losing battle. After all, Wuya's minions of choice are ripped from the earth itself, over which they have power. I will leave you to imagine the other consequences."

"We shall trust your words on the subject," Xayide said agreeingly.

"I never said I'd do anything of the sort!" Mim huffed.

"Just don't argue with him," Wuya droned. "It'll make things easier."

"Oh, all right," Mim relented.

"On the subject of matters that could jeopardize our mission," Vexen went on, "I would like to add that the Huntsman is fooling no one."

"I was not aware of whom I was trying to fool," the Huntsman replied.

"You know very well what I am referring to!" Vexen spat. "The way you dote over Mozenrath. You have feelings for him, and these feelings will inevitably lead to your downfall. Emotions always do."

"I do not see the harm," the Huntsman admitted. "Roman Torchwick and Mr. Snatcher seem not to be held back by their affections for each other, nor Mim and either of her suitors."

"Snatcher and Torchwick will eventually be impeded by their relationship," Vexen huffed. "Mark my words. I simply care far less about either of them than I do about your potential. As for Mim, I think we are all aware that she can easily become detached, though why, Madam Mim, you would waste your time on such dalliances with Aghoul and Smisse is beyond my understanding."

"I still do not see what harm could come of it," the Huntsman pressed.

"There will come a time," Vexen told him, "when you have to choose between the success of the operation and some trivial matter regarding Mozenrath's desires, or perhaps his safety. And you will choose the wrong option."

"I have not fallen so far for him," the Huntsman grunted.

"I think you're wrong," Wuya added. "If anything, the Huntsman being more careful about the safety of the leader of all our operations should be seen as an advantage, I would think."

"There may come a time when it will be best to leave Mozenrath behind," Vexen stated. "Even if he is the most central to our success. We will learn to get along without him and move forward in the most efficient manner."

"We would do no such thing," the Huntsman growled. "We follow Mozenrath or no one at all."

"You have to admit we might need to pick a replacement SOMEDAY," Wuya cajoled.

"In fact," Mim reminded the group, a great smile plastered across her face, "if we don't succeed this time around, that might be within a couple days!"

That cast a silence over the entire group.

Vexen decided to break it. "Emotional attachments are naught but shackles," he insisted. "The more you can let go of, the better."

"I believed much the same, once," Xayide added. "And to a degree, I still stand by it. In Fantastica, I was saved by the loyalty of those I now call friends, and it would be unseemly not to repay the favor. But emotions themselves are better off forgotten. Without them, I would not have needed to be saved."

"Perhaps you could consider removing your heart," Vexen suggested to her. "That is what I have done, and I have not regretted it."

"Perhaps I will," Xayide said, "though in that case, I would have to keep my heart safe outside of my body. It is best protected within. Do you not worry that your heart will fall into enemy hands?"

"I do not truly worry about anything," Vexen huffed.

"Back to the matter at hand, I have never seen the use for romantic love," Xayide continued.

"It can be fun once you strip out all the mushy stuff," Mim told her.

Xayide shook her head. "It is not for me. I do not wish to fall into the very trap Vexen has described."

"I will fall into no trap," the Huntsman insisted, though he was beginning to have doubts. He had known from the very beginning that calling what he had for Mozenrath "love" would only lead to trouble. Was it enough to simply agree never to let it become love? Or did it have to be nipped in the bud, should it lead down an undesirable path? "I have not fallen so far. You are reading more out of the situation than there is. I am merely loyal to Mozenrath. Little more."

"Stop picking on him, Vexen," Wuya snapped. "You too, Xayide. The Huntsman is a grown man. He can do what he wants."

"Do you agree, Wuya?" Vexen implored. "Do you believe emotional attachments are burdens?"

"I believe surrounding yourself with the wrong people can get annoying fast," Wuya told him. "You're not the wrong people. For the most part. MUST we keep talking about this? We're just going to argue around in circles and circles! Where are we even going?"

"Toward a library," Vexen explained. "There, we will have the best chance of discovering the location of the Spirit Waters."

"The city is crawling with spies, and you want to use a public library?" Wuya was awestruck. "I thought you were supposed to be the smart one. They're going to be watching us, you know! And they're going to want to know WHY we're looking that up!"

"My thoughts exactly." This came from a deep voice that sounded from off to the side of the group.

The five halted in their tracks and turned to get a good look at who'd spoken. The street they were on was mostly deserted, a back route among the edges of Ba Sing Se. The interruptor was the only person they could actually see. Long and lean, he rested against the wall of a short alley, shrouded in shadow.

"Pardon me for listening in," he said with a great grin. "But y'all look like you're in need of some assistance."

"We can do very well without," Vexen snapped. "Now, stop putting your ear toward discussions that don't concern you at once."

"Or you'll what?" the man asked. "I wouldn't do anything too rash if I were you. After all, I just might be the only person who can get you what you're lookin' for. Y'all really think they have the details about the Spirit Waters out there for everyone to see?"

"How did you know that's what we were looking for?" Mim asked in awe.

"Because he heard me mention it," Vexen said gruffly.

"Of course." The man's grin was unwavering. "But I didn't happen to hear y'all mention that you came here from different worlds. Havin' fun on that big ol' spaceship out there in the middle of nowhere? Or do you ever miss Radiant Garden? New York? Fantastica? Hobnobbing with the Heylin? Followin' Merlin here and there?"

That gave the quintet pause.

"How DID you know our origins?" the Huntsman asked.

"I'm a diviner," the man said. "Just one of my many talents. I also happen to know you're here lookin' for a cure for your sick friend. That's why y'all want the Spirit Waters, ain't it?"

"And what business is it of yours?" Vexen snapped.

"Like I said," the man continued, "I know how to find 'em."

"Then tell us," the Huntsman snapped, "North or South?"

"Ohhh, I don't know WHERE they are," the man said. "Sorry to lead you on. But I know who does know. The man who saw them for himself when he killed the moon. I can set up an introduction for y'all if you want."

"I don't trust this," Vexen spat. "For all we know, he could be working for the Dai Li!"

"Shame about the Dai Li, ain't it?" the man went on. "We almost had a city free of 'em. But that old Earth King had to go and take 'em back in as his special forces. That man would trust a gator not to bite his hand off."

"Free of the Dai Li?" Vexen repeated. "What exactly HAPPENED to this world? The Dai Li have been a fixture of Ba Sing Se for ages!"

"Big changes, my friend," the shadowy man stated cryptically. "Big changes. Like I said, I knew about a man who murdered the moon. They found a way to bring it back to life, of course. I could tell ya all about it. If you're still worried about the Dai Li, well, friends, I have just as much to lose to 'em as you do. You think they want a man like me in their city? A man who knows too much about everyone, and can talk to the dead by openin' up a path to the Spirit Realm?"

"Opening a path to the Spirit Realm," Vexen huffed. "A likely story."

"The man I'm talkin' about is dead as a doornail," the man explained. "That's the only way you're gonna get any information: talkin' to him in person. And that involves rippin' a hole in the veil between the realms. It's your choice in the end. Risk me bein' an agent of the Dai Li. Or go look for information that's not there in a place where you KNOW they gonna find you."

"He makes a convincing argument," Wuya pointed out. "Still, I could use a little bit more proof." She advanced upon the man, reaching out a hand.

"WHAT are you doing?" Vexen sighed.

"Now that I have a physical body, I can't read minds by phasing into people," Wuya explained. "But I CAN see what I need to if I have adequate physical contact."

Her hand reached out and brushed the stranger's fingers, bare but for five rings with stones of varying shapes and colors. She reeled back; when she had tried to see inside, it was like a great solid force had pushed her right back out of his mind.

"Careful, chère," the stranger warned. "I keep my mind under lock and key. Surely you can understand why. Since I know so much, y'all really think I'm gonna let just anyone know the same things?"

"Fair," Wuya told him. "Though surely YOU understand that spawns some trust issues."

"Comes with the trade," the stranger replied. "Oh, and I don't believe we've been formally introduced."

He took one great stride forward, forcing Wuya to backpedal. As the light hit him in full, he tipped his tall top hat; "The name is Dr. Facilier." He extended his right hand, the rings sparkling in the sunlight.

Wuya slipped her hand into his, trying once more to see inside his mind but being repelled. Facilier ignored her action, kissing the back of her hand delicately. "Enchanté," Facilier continued. "Surely a beautiful woman like yourself has a beautiful name."

"I'm surprised you don't already know it," Wuya said, bemused. "I am Wuya: Heylin witch and herald of evil."

"And I am the macabre, matchless Mad Madam Mim!" Mim added.

"Charmed," Facilier told her as he let Wuya's hand drop. "I can hardly tell which of you's more lovely."

Mim folded her arms; "Well, I don't like him one bit! I've never BEEN so insulted!"

"It is only flattery," Xayide told her. "Lies. You are still every bit as hideous as you believe." She nodded toward Facilier. "I am Xayide."

"You may refer to me as the Huntsman," the Huntsman chimed in.

Vexen snorted. "You needn't refer to me as anything at all. I'm not about to just hand over my name."

"In times like these, I sure don't blame ya," Facilier stated. "Now, shall we see about introducing you to the man with all the answers?" He gestured back into the alley; a small wooden door was seen inset into the end. "If you're interested, follow me."

"This is a trap!" Vexen seethed. "A definite trap!"

"Now, I know you said we're not allowed to rampage through the city if we're found out by those Dai Li people," Mim reminded Vexen. "But there's nothing stopping us from destroying HIM, is there? If he really is just leading us along, we'll just let him have it!"

Facilier put up both hands, taking a nervous step back. "Believe me, I know what y'all can do!" he insisted. "I wouldn't even dream of steerin' ya wrong! I've already got on the bad side of the wrong folks in the past. I ain't dumb enough to do it again!"

Xayide nodded. "There can be little harm. We should at least see what he has to offer."

Vexen sighed. "Very well." He glared directly into Facilier's violet eyes. "But if you do attempt to do us harm or tip off the Dai Li to our presence, the consequences will be dire."

"Understood," Facilier said with a solid nod. "Now, follow me."

The door led into a small, round room, bare of any ornamentation save for a tiny, circular wooden table in the center. Three arch-shaped doorways led to other parts of the domicile. "Just moved in," Facilier explained. "Ain't had time to make this house a home just yet."

"What exactly brought you to Ba Sing Se, anyhow?" Vexen asked with suspicion. "If the Dai Li scare you so, it hardly makes sense for you to operate where they can find you so easily."

"Which is why no one would ever suspect to look for me here," Facilier told him. "No one except those who REALLY want what I can offer."

"You say that as if you're running from someone."

"Like I said, I've got on the bad side of the wrong people."

As the Huntsman, the last of the group in file, stomped into the dark room, the door was shut behind him. The Huntsman turned and cast his gaze downward, surprised to see a Shadow Heartless doing the work. The Shadow regarded the Huntsman with curiosity. "You work with the Heartless," the Huntsman observed.

"They're just friends," Facilier stated. "Nothin' to worry about. Watch. Come on out, boys."

Shadows and Neo-Shadows crawled out of the archways, lining the walls of the entrance chamber. Their yellow eyes were wide with wonder as they regarded their five visitors.

"They ain't gonna harm ya," Facilier reassured the group. "They only do what I tell 'em to, an' I ain't gonna tell 'em to do anything bad. Why would I hurt potential customers?"

"Customers?" Mim repeated. "So there's a price!"

"There's always a price," Facilier told her. "Ain't nothin' on this world or any other that comes free. But we'll discuss what you're payin' when we get through the matter of what I'm offerin'. Please, have a seat."

The Heartless were already pulling out six chairs from around the small table. Exactly six had been placed there, Vexen noticed. Had Facilier been anticipating their arrival? Given what he'd known of them so far, it wasn't a leap of logic to make that assumption.

Facilier waited until the others were seated before taking his own chair. "Now, ladies an' gentlemen," he stated, "let's talk the terms of the deal. What I intend to offer you is a passage to the Spirit Realm to bring out one poor departed soul. The soul of the Fire Nation's very own Admiral Zhao. Ain't no one knows the location of the Spirit Waters better than him. After all, that's where he went to murder the moon."

"Why would you want to destroy the moon?" Xayide asked.

"For fun!" Mim cackled.

"It wasn't for fun," Facilier corrected. "Waterbenders gather their energy from the moon. You don't have a moon, waterbenders don't got a leg to stand on. It was all part of Zhao's plan to subjugate the Water Tribe. Like I said, they figured out a way to save the moon and put it back up in the sky. Zhao got dragged off to the Spirit Realm after that. Seems the spirits weren't exactly happy with him. Don't I know the feeling? Now, with the right kind of power, I can open up a gateway between this world and the Spirit Realm to bring Zhao on back. Can't guarantee he'll talk to ya…but then again, Mademoiselle Wuya has a way around that, don't she?"

"He'll have a physical form?" Wuya questioned.

"Soon as he sets foot in this world, yes," Facilier told her. "Then you can get whatever information you want about the Spirit Waters. Which pole, who's guardin' 'em, the works. The problem is in order to open the gate, I need more energy than I got. I just need a little help from all y'all. Now, don't you fret. I ain't gonna ask for your voices or any of that nonsense. I can take the tiniest thing, even something as insignificant as a truth that's close to your heart, an' turn it into the energy I need. What I'm askin' is that y'all five bare your souls."

"Bare our souls?" Xayide asked.

"A common expression," Vexen sighed, "meaning to divulge information that is dear to us, even if we had been bent on keeping that information secret."

"I knew that," Xayide snapped. "Everyone here knew that."

"If y'all gonna tell me your secrets," Facilier went on, "it don't need to be your deepest, darkest truth. Any old thing will do, so long as it's somethin' you'd kept secret from the other people in this room up 'til now." He smiled, looking from Wuya on his left to the Huntsman on his right. "Now, who wants to go first?"

"I will," Wuya volunteered.

"Wuya!" Vexen snapped. "You're going to give away your secrets to this stranger?"

"It's nothing he can use," Wuya retorted. "As information, anyway. Converting it to energy, it should work. But I never told any of you how I became a Heylin witch, did I?"

"As a matter of fact, you did not," the Huntsman realized.

"There was an era during which evil ruled my world," Wuya explained. "The emperor of all this Darkness was a man known as the Shadow Sorcerer. It was he who constructed a tower of darkness underneath perpetual night from which to rule his empire. It was he who put together Mala Mala Jong and his brothers to utilize as his personal guard. He was the most powerful of all Heylin. And I was his daughter.

"As I grew up, I begged and pleaded with him every day to teach me the Heylin arts. But, as I was a daughter and Mother died before she could give him a son, he believed I was worthless. He treated me like a maid, making me wash this, sweep that floor, shine that window, clean out that toilet.

"Since he didn't have a son, he started to take on apprentices. He would teach them magic and martial arts, and I would find a way to hide nearby and watch so I could learn. I practiced in secret when my father was asleep. Of course, none of his apprentices ended up being good enough for him. He disposed of pretty much all of them. The only person I can remember who crossed his threshold both ways and lived was the great Heylin demon Hannibal Roy Bean. I idolized Hannibal. I always thought that if I had grown up with him, not my father, he would have shown me the skills I hungered for outright and not turned me away because I was female! Of course, my father wouldn't let me within ten feet of him. I had to watch them from the shadows.

"When I turned twenty, I finally had enough. I had learned plenty from watching my father train disappointment after disappointment. Which, come to think of it, is the one thing that's never changed about the Heylin: how many absolute losers there are composing the bulk of it. Back to the point: I took my father on in a duel. I had taken what he taught me and made it my own, and that made me stronger than him. I wanted revenge for every time he sent me out of the room to speak to another man, for every time he sent me in to clean up the messes he didn't feel like cleaning up, for every time he told me to my face that I was worthless because I was a girl! So, when I defeated him, I gave him the same fate he gave all of his failed apprentices." Wuya let out a small cackle. "After that, the throne was MINE to take. And everything went my way until Grand Master Dashi showed up with his little friends." Wuya leaned back in her chair, crossing her ankles as she placed her bare feet on the tabletop. "And that's how I began."

"Can't say as I blame ya for what ya did," Facilier commented, pushing her ankles off the table and forcing her to sit with her feet on the floor.

"It never occurred to me that you perhaps were at one time so…" The Huntsman searched for the word. "Powerless. You seem as though you would have been born into magical and political strength."

"I clawed my way up to the top," Wuya asserted, "just like Mozenrath did. Just like I'm sure YOU did." She folded her arms. "All right, I bore my soul. Who's next?"

Xayide sat between her and Vexen. "My tale is not so long to tell," she said, "and that is the problem. I have made it well-known that I have no tale to tell at all, as Bastian Balthazar Bux never thought to give me a story. I was only an obstacle for him to first overcome, then succumb to while he thought he was in control. If I have ever longed for anything, it is my story. I wish to have come from somewhere and lived through something. As it is, I sometimes feel I have little meaning."

"Trust me," Wuya huffed, "you're better off without a past."

"Logically, this is true," Xayide told her. "Yet that does not stop me from yearning. Vexen is correct; emotions are a nuisance."

Vexen was next in line at the table. "I suppose I must divulge something as well," he sighed. "All right. I was, for many years, a caretaker of obnoxious children, as I was assigned by Ansem the Wise in Radiant Garden. It was I who supervised young Ienzo as Ansem continued his studies. While Ansem's mother took on most of the duties involving Kairi, there were nights when the girl would bother me to read her a bedtime story or bring her a treat of some sort when I had incredibly crucial research to do. I would never wish to have to watch over either of those two or any other whining brat again. However…back then, I had a heart. And it grew unnecessarily fond of both of them, even as they irked me. I have long since buried those feelings and am never to revisit them, even if I should, for whatever incomprehensible reason, return my heart to its original place. But I cannot erase that at one time, I would have protected the children, perhaps with my own life. And that is, in a way, something I cannot forgive myself for."

"Your confession is a lot like mine," Mim picked up. "My deep, dark secret is…ever since I joined up with the WHAM ARMY, you've all become my friends. You make me happy. And I actually like it!" She folded her arms haughtily. "How DARE you do that to me!"

"Only you would think of that as a deep, dark secret," Wuya sighed. "All right, Huntsman. Your turn. Bare your soul."

The Huntsman heaved in a deep breath, then forced it out. "You…may be – no, you all are right about what I feel for Mozenrath. It is not love. But I do…I do care for him. Perhaps too much for my own good. We had decided, back in Fantastica, to act upon our feelings, and this is not so much a secret. But he returned what I felt for him then. Ever since he forgot, I have been longing for him to feel now what he felt then. But even if that day never comes, I am simply content to be with him. If we lose him now – if…I…lose him now…it will be as though part of me is carved away." He followed this, almost inaudibly, with "What has become of me?"

"I knew it," Vexen said coldly. "Perhaps you have become a lost cause after all."

"Stop picking on him!" Wuya groaned. "You used to be a babysitter for bratty children, Vexen! I shouldn't have to treat you like a bratty child!"

"I am attempting to look out for our best interests!" Vexen snapped, slamming his hands on the table and standing up.

"You are attempting to tell the rest of us what to do because you don't like how we do it!" Wuya slammed her own hands on the table, standing up to a shorter height than Vexen before levitating just high enough to meet his gaze.

"Please, please!" Facilier stood as well, putting up his hands in a gesture that begged for a cease-fire. "We're all friends here, ain't we? Friends who make each other happy, just like Madam Mim said. Let's not waste time fighting over who gets to tell who what to do or who gets to fall for who. After all, the longer we fight, the longer your friend back at the inn fights his condition."

That sobering fact forced Wuya and Vexen back into their chairs.

"Y'all coughed up a lot of information," Facilier reiterated. "I reckon we've got enough of a solid ground to start. All I'm gonna need is one last thing. First, everybody join hands."

Rather reluctantly, the quintet did so.

Facilier held out his own hands, offering one to Wuya and one to the Huntsman. "When you take my hands," he said, "we seal the deal. I just need y'all to say out loud that you agree to this: I'll open up a gate to the Spirit Realm and bring Zhao out to this world in exchange for y'all barin' your souls."

"I agree," the Huntsman stated.

"So do I," Wuya said.

Xayide looked unsure for a moment before deciding, "I agree."

"Might as well," Mim resolved. "I agree too!"

After a pause of considerable length, Vexen seethed through clenched teeth, "I agree."

"Then take my hands," Facilier said, "and it's settled."

In the past, he thought to himself, he had relied on Voodoo and hoodoo. Now it was time for something he ain't even tried.

Wuya and the Huntsman took his hands, closing the circle.

A great flash of color enveloped the room, twisted and woven into patterns that would have been downright beautiful to a casual observer. Everything in the dark room was now awash in every hue of the spectrum, including the six people present. The Heartless began to squirm; the Shadows crawled up the wall while the Neo-Shadows all gathered at one particular spot.

"THERE!" Facilier yelled, letting go of Wuya's hand to point at the place the Neo-Shadows were indicating. But as Wuya, Xayide, Vexen, Mim, and the Huntsman all turned their gaze, they were diverted from the streaks of color that emanated from their own bodies, flowing through the connection that they made with their hands only to settle in around Facilier's right hand, which still gripped the Huntsman's.

The colors of the room poured toward the place the Neo-Shadows indicated, once again leaving the room in darkness as the spectrum formed a great round frame in midair, stretching from floor to ceiling and just as wide as it was tall. This frame became a gateway, looking upon an entirely different scene from the interior of the small room: an expanse of peach-colored fog that at first seemed to be devoid of all life. Then a lone figure, a man outfitted in red armor, dark hair swept up into a ponytail, wandered into view, muttering to himself.

Facilier gave a sharp whistle; the man was startled, turning to see him beckoning. "C'mon out," Facilier cajoled.

As the man turned to the gate between realms, he stated loudly and clearly, "I am Zhao the conqueror." He stepped one foot out of the gate, and it took on a more solid appearance. "I am the moonslayer!" The other foot was out of the gate. "And I WILL CAPTURE THE AVATAR!"

The gate closed, leaving Zhao in the land of the living.

Facilier withdrew his right hand from the Huntsman's grasp, smiling as he beheld the five rings upon his fingers; the stones glowed more brightly against the dark room's backdrop.

The Shadows craned their heads down from the ceiling to observe the scene. "So you're Zhao," Wuya greeted.

"I…am Zhao the conqueror," the man confirmed. "I am the moonslayer."

"Great," Wuya sighed. "That's all he can say, isn't it?"

"Remember, chère," Facilier told Wuya. "You have a way around that."

Wuya stood, crossing the room to Zhao. "Wh…who are you?" Zhao barked angrily. "What are you doing?"

Wuya pressed her hand to Zhao's temple; he batted her arm away, but not before she got the information she wanted. "It's in the NORTH Pole," she announced.

"Good," Vexen huffed. "Now we know what we came here to learn, and we can leave." He stood quickly, storming out of the room.

The others made to follow, but Facilier cleared his throat. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'd wait for him to finish before I made a move."

"And why is that?" the Huntsman asked.

"You're just gonna be glad you did," Facilier reassured him.

Vexen made it out of the room and all the way down the alley. Then out in the street, he collapsed suddenly, sprawling out over the ground like a fallen piece of cloth.

"Well, he's dead," Mim said casually.

Wuya sensed something suspicious. "WHAT did you do to him?" she seethed, turning on Facilier with an almost feral expression on her face.

Facilier smiled. They really had believed he was afraid of them, never once considering that it was an act. "He wandered too far away from his soul," Facilier explained, holding up the rings. "Good thing he was a Nobody, wasn't it? All he had left was soul and body. If one of you tried to get that far away from your soul with a body and an intact HEART, well, somethin' even worse might happen to y'all. Maybe you'll turn into one of these here Shadows." Facilier reached up, just able to pat one of the ceiling-bound Shadows on the head affectionately. "But as for him, he's just an empty body with no soul and no heart. Technically dead. Now, don't you worry. Soon as he gets back in proximity of his soul, he'll be good as he ever was." Facilier ran the fingers of his left hand over the rings on his right.

"You TRICKED us!" Xayide shrieked.

"Our agreement," the Huntsman seethed.

"Oh, yes, that matter," Facilier said slyly. "Never actually said tellin' secrets was the way to pay, did I? I told you IF you told me a secret, it didn't have to be your darkest. All that 'soul-barin'' you did wasn't even relevant. No, I wanted you to bare your SOULS. An' when you said you agreed, you handed all five of 'em over to me." He held out the hand ornamented with the rings. "And they do look LOVELY, don't they?"

"But the gateway!" Mim argued.

"Always somethin' I could do," Facilier told her. "With or without extra energy. You thought you actually helped me open it?" His smile grew ever wider. "As for Zhao, I wanted him here in the first place. Only left him back there as long as I did to have somethin' to sweeten the deal for you."

"What about me?" Zhao asked, trying to clear his head. "What are you saying about me?"

"In a minute," Facilier told him, holding up his left hand in a "stop" gesture. "I'll get to you."

"So our souls are in those rings," the Huntsman reiterated as he retrieved the huntstaff from where he'd let it rest against the wall. "Or is that another attempt of yours to mislead us?"

"Oh, they're in there, all right," Facilier confirmed.

The huntstaff was pointed at Facilier. "Then it is time to make good on Mim's threat," the Huntsman growled.

Mim transfigured herself into an alligator, inspired by Facilier's earlier comment about the Earth King's trust. Xayide and Wuya each raised both hands, moments away from casting devastating spells.

Still Facilier smiled. "Sweet dreams." He passed his left hand over the rings.

And the Huntsman, Mim, Xayide, and Wuya fell unconscious in one blow.

...

The three rooms that Snatcher, Roman, Rémington, Grany, and Neo had booked were on the second floor. After departing Snatcher and Roman's room, the latter three wandered the hallways for a while before deciding what to do. The decision was brought upon them by the discovery of a door with frosted glass panels in it, showing the way to a vast, dark emptiness beyond. Neo discovered the "Call" button next to the door and pressed it; a quaint elevator with wood paneling slid up into place, blocking out the emptiness. Grany opened the door wide.

"Might as well travel down in style," Rémington remarked as he strode inside. "Grany? Neo?"

Neo shook her head, making a series of gestures.

"You're…hungry?" Rémington guessed. "You forgot to use the bathroom?"

"She's saying this is where we split up," Grany sighed. "She wants to explore other parts of the hotel."

"Ah, yes," Rémington said with a nod. "Grany and I will see how far up and down this elevator can take us, no?"

"Sounds boring," Grany replied, "but probably worth our while."

Neo gave them a nod and a thumbs-up before skipping down the hallway.

Grany crowded into the elevator next to his brother, shutting the door and a metal gate behind them. They hunched over the buttons, which indicated that the second floor was as high as they could go, and they were already there.

"You know, this place looked a lot bigger from the outside," Rémington remarked.

"I'm sure those towers were taller than two floors," Grany recalled. "If we really want to get to know this place, we'll have to get into one of those."

Rémington poked the button marked "B" for "Basement." "Going down," he said smugly.

The elevator began to smoothly slide down. Outside the grate, Rémington and Grany could see the stone that separated the first floor from the second scroll on by –

And the elevator came to a grinding halt when there was still nothing but stone on the other side of the grate.

Rémington jabbed at the "B" button again and again, then the other two.

"Stop doing that," Grany grumbled. "The elevator's stuck. WE'RE stuck between floors!"

"Well, you know what I say," Rémington reminded him.

Grany grinned. "There's always a way out."

Rémington swiveled his head about to assess the situation. His eyes locked upon the ceiling. "Grany. Does that panel look loose to you?"

Grany reached up to a square outline on the ceiling of the elevator, jostling it, pushing it up and aside to reveal the void of the elevator shaft above. "I think we've just found our way out! Though…" He sized up the aperture he'd revealed. "You're the only one who can fit. I'll lift you out first. Then come back for me."

"All right."

Grany hoisted Rémington up to the opening; Rémington slipped out on top of the elevator. "It may take me a while to get it moving," he called down to Grany. "I'll have to find our host and let him know there is maintenance to be done." He turned a 360. The door to the second floor was above him, in easy reach. But the shaft was a place of curiosity. It was far wider than it needed to be to accommodate simply one elevator. Rémington estimated ten more elevators could have fit in the space. It was a long drop to the floor of the shaft, down below above the basement level. Across a great gap, on the far wall, there was a metal ladder.

This got Rémington's attention. He traced the trajectory of the ladder with his eyes, following it up to a square hole in the wall: a ventilation duct without a cover.

"Actually…" he began.

"ACTUALLY?" Grany repeated. "What ACTUALLY? Rémy, you better go find someone to let me out of here!"

"I will," Rémington promised. "But first, I have to check something out."

"Check WHAT out? Rémy? REMY!"

"Meet me back at our room when you're free."

Rémington was seized by curiosity; his instincts told him that investigating the ventilation shaft was worth his time. It was a tantalizing opportunity, for how often did one end up in an elevator shaft with such an entrance afforded to him? It had to lead somewhere, and he had come to explore, after all. The gap between the elevator and the far wall was wide, but not so wide that Rémington couldn't clear it with a slight running start. He flew through the air gracefully, landing with hands and feet gripping the ladder.

"I had money on you falling to your death," one of his guns commented.

"Shut up," Rémington groaned.

He scaled the ladder and swung into the ventilation shaft. It was roomy enough for him to crawl through without any difficulty at all. Rémington smiled at his discovery as he advanced through the shaft. At one point, the path forked, prompting him to either turn right or move straight ahead. Figuring he could double back later, Rémington kept on his course.

His path eventually ended in a wire grate that sealed off the far end of the shaft. At first, he feared his journey had come to an end, but not to be deterred so easily, he nudged the grate, finding that it was only attached to the vent by hinges from above rather than screws and so would move to let him pass easily.

Rémington landed hands-first on the carpet below, springing up to his feet. He had just enough time to ascertain two things. First of all, he was on the upper balcony of a two-tiered room, the main floor spreading out below him, and this room was filled with books. Second of all, the moment he hit the floor, a high-pitched beeping sounded throughout the room.

"This has to be that library!" one pistol remarked.

"And you just set off the alarm," Rémington's dagger groaned. "Nice going."

"You better hide," the other pistol suggested.

Rémington acrobatically flipped into a handstand, kicking open the grate and springing up into the vent feet first. He squirmed backward into the vent and let the grate slam closed just in time for Dexter Egan to enter the room from the lower level doors without noticing Rémington.

Dexter took a look around the library to see what had tripped the alarm, but could see no signs of life. It must have been a fluke, he thought. Rémington spied from above as he approached the burglar alarm set in the wall, grumbling, "Okay, okay, I hear you."

Watching Dexter input a code into the small wall-mounted pad, Rémington wasn't surprised. He was, however, taken aback by what happened next: Dexter stepped further into the library, muttering, "Darn you, crazy old man." He rifled through the papers on a desk, continuing, "I know you hid that thing around here somewhere!" He spent a good amount of time at the desk before giving up, sighing, "The leas you could've done was left me a hint." Dexter turned to stalk his way out of the library, pausing once in the center of the room to let out another sigh and complain, "I don't have time to clean this up." Then he departed, the doors to the library slamming shut.

Rémington crept back out of the vent, no beeping heralding his arrival this time. A small spiral stairway led down from the balcony, and Rémington descended quickly. There must be a treasure trove of things to investigate here, he thought, and Dexter was convinced something valuable was hidden there. Could he have sabotaged the library himself to mask his search for whatever it was? Dexter's little display had lent credibility to Snatcher's hypothesis.

But Rémington wasn't focused on the books, the desk, or any of the other features of the library. His goal was the alarm. It was situated next to the door; he wanted to confirm this visually. His thoughts flew back to Roman's boast that he could disable the alarm if only he had the tools and the time. He already had the tools; Rémington had just figured out how to buy him the time.

From there, it was a matter of simply strolling out of the library doors. As they closed behind Rémington, there was a distinct click. Had they locked? Rémington turned to test the handle. Yes, the doors were locked. He would have to do something about that. Acquire a bit of wire, perhaps, so the others could pick their way in once Roman had done his work.

He strolled toward Dexter's desk, where the old man was organizing his papers in order to leave for the night. "Excuse me?" Rémington broke in.

"Yeah?" Dexter replied.

"My brother and I have had a little trouble with the elevator," Rémington said calmly. "It is trapped between floors as of now. I was able to find my way out, but my brother…not so much. He is still there."

Dexter sighed. "Again? All right, fine. I'll go fix it. I should have him back out in half an hour, tops. You coming with?"

"Actually, it is growing late," Rémington told him. "I do believe it is bedtime for me."

"Suit yourself."

Rémington followed Dexter up the stairs, then took a diverting path through the halls as Dexter continued to the elevator. After waiting for a few seconds, Rémington doubled back, down to the first floor. If he was lucky, he wouldn't have to pick the lock of the library door at all.

Dexter's desk was cluttered with papers. Rémington supposed he could have learned much more about their host if he snooped around, but he wasn't particularly in the mood to read through the letters and files. Instead, he opened the small side drawers, finding exactly what he sought: a small golden key.

A quick trip down to the library, where Rémington fit key to lock, proved that he had indeed found the way to open up the library through the main doors. It was all coming together.

Rémington's next stop was Snatcher and Roman's room, where he knocked gently on the door. He received no response; the pair must have already been asleep. So Rémington knocked louder. He was convinced that the best time to search through an off-limits room was after hours, when there were bound to be fewer prying eyes and listening ears.

There was a low grumble of "You go see who it is" from the other side, followed by rustling sounds and the noise of feet hitting the floor. Roman pried the door open, clad in nothing but a pair of orange boxer shorts while Snatcher remained lying prone in the bed behind him. "Rémy?" Roman greeted, speech slurred by having been jolted out of sleep. "Damn it, whatever you want, it had better be good."

"Call Neo and wake up your boyfriend," Rémington ordered him. "I promise, it's good."

...

Mozenrath's sleep was filled with troubling dreams. He could only vaguely remember their gist when he awoke, but he was sure it had something to do with wasting away: something he was displeased to find out was just as true in the waking world.

He blinked awake, realizing there was literally nothing to do but go back to sleep. So he closed his eyes and tried to do just that.

At first, when the men burst into his room, he thought it was another nightmare. But when they apprehended him in his bed, binding him with chains, Mozenrath realized it was no dream.

Feebly, he struggled, but he was too weak to overpower them. All he could do was cry out in frustration, and even then they were ready to silence him, forcing his mouth shut so that he almost bit his tongue cleanly in two.

They carried him right through the lobby and out into the streets. The receptionist did nothing to hinder them. After all, she thought, the Dai Li had their reasons for taking whom they did.


	48. The Phoenix King

1\. 48. The Phoenix King

"Rise and shine, sweethearts."

The teasing greeting snapped Wuya, Mim, Xayide, the Huntsman, and Vexen out of a state of unconsciousness. All scrambled from a lying position to a standing one to get a good look at their surroundings. Since Facilier had knocked them out earlier, they had been moved. Instead of the tiny chamber in the midst of Ba Sing Se, they now stood upon a great plain bordered by distant trees. There was no way of knowing how far they had moved from the city.

Shadow Heartless peered out from behind bushes and rocks, silently signaling that at their master's beck, they had brought the five to this new location, borne upon their backs. And at the center of it all stood Facilier and Zhao, each sporting a wicked grin.

"Where are we?" the Huntsman growled.

"Before we go any further," Facilier began, "you're gonna need to know two things. One is that now that I hold your souls, if I die, those souls get released into the aether. They don't go back to your bodies, and they don't cross into any afterlife. They just…get…lost. So if I were you and didn't want to live out the rest of my existence floating around a multiverse I couldn't see, hear, touch, taste, or interact with, I wouldn't hurt the man holding onto my soul."

"You're bluffing," Wuya called out.

Facilier shrugged. "You can't prove I am. And you can't prove I'm not. Do you wanna test it out and see for yourselves?"

The quintet cringed.

Facilier's grin increased. "That's what I thought. Now, for the second bit of information, when I say you sleep, you sleep. When you do anything I don't want you to do, it's bedtime. And you already know what happens if you get too far away from me. So, to recapitulate: don't get too far away from me, you have to follow my orders, and don't kill me. Follow those rules and we'll get along just fine."

Mim gritted her teeth. "Why you…YOU…YOU BARREL OF SLUG SLIME!" She transformed into a cobra, reaching back to strike at Facilier's ankle.

Facilier gently pressed a finger to the ring holding Mim's soul, and she dropped unconscious.

"And that's why I wanted the ground rules out of the way," he said with a smug smirk. "Somehow I knew at least one of y'all would end up unconscious before you understood the full picture."

"So you're saying you have possession of our SOULS?" Vexen barked.

"Oh, right, you missed that whole revelation!" Facilier laughed. "Maybe one of your friends wants to explain it to you. Care to let your pal in on the slip-up?"

"His request for us to bare our souls was not figurative," the Huntsman explained. "It was literal. The secrets we shared had no bearing on our deal. We traded our very souls to him in exchange for Zhao's resurrection."

"WE HAVE DONE WHAT?" Vexen screamed. "I TOLD YOU HE WASN'T TRUSTWORTHY! IF YOU HAD LISTENED TO ME TO BEGIN WITH, WE WOULDN'T BE HERE! WE DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE 'HERE' IS!"

"You went along with it once the rest of us did!" Xayide reminded him.

Vexen wanted to yell even louder at her about how he had all but been forced to participate, as he had been outnumbered four to one, and the other four were responsible for the absolute idiocy of handing over their souls to who was now apparent as a prominent enemy, but he bit his tongue. There was something he had to do, and the success of it relied on the others occupying the conversation and diverting attention from him.

"Where ARE we?" Wuya asked dryly.

Vexen backed off, hoping Wuya would take the reins. His hand slid into his pocket to grasp his scroll.

"We're on our way to the Fire Nation capital," Zhao explained. "We've already come a long way from Ba Sing Se."

"But Mozenrath!" the Huntsman protested.

"Will waste away wherever you left him," Facilier replied smugly. "Just like my employer wants."

Facilier and Zhao were both focused on the Huntsman now. Vexen drew his scroll from his pocket, opening up a new text message to Mozenrath. He stepped just behind the Huntsman, obscuring himself from Facilier's view.

The Huntsman, noticing his staff lying on the ground nearby, considered taking it up to menace Facilier and Zhao. He knew, however, this would just get him knocked unconscious.

"Don't tell me," Wuya groaned. "This 'employer' is Maleficent."

"So you're not completely stupid after all," Facilier replied.

"What does Maleficent want with our souls?" Xayide asked.

"Getting your souls under control was a means to an end," Facilier told her, "though possessing them is going to be something of a perk. Maleficent and her associates want two things. First of all, they want Mozenrath dead. Now that you're off the task of saving his life, that should happen any day now."

That's what you think, Vexen thought as he quickly typed out his message: "We have been captured by the enemy. Do not follow. Spirit Waters at the North Pole. Get what help you can." Sent.

"Second," Facilier went on, "Maleficent and her entourage have a vested interest in the Fire Nation. They want to add it to their deck of cards, so to speak. If I bring back news of the takeover of the entire Fire Nation, I'll be on the receiving end of some handsome rewards. Of course, we'll need someone to hold the throne for her. Someone with similar interests and an ambitious disposition. Tell 'em, Zhao."

"You're going to help us free Phoenix King Ozai from his prison," Zhao said with a sickening smile.

"Our knowledge of this world is limited," Xayide stated, "but that does not sound like it aligns with our own goals."

"Perhaps not," Facilier posed. "But it does align with your survival. You already know I can knock you out. I can just as easily SNUFF you out. Are we at an understanding?"

The five of captured soul tensed at the hopelessness of their situation.

"Or would you rather not prolong the inevitable?" Facilier posed. "I could let your souls go into oblivion right now."

"We have an understanding," the Huntsman growled. "We will help you free this…Phoenix King."

Xayide and Wuya gave solemn nods; Vexen simply glowered at Facilier and Zhao.

"Then let's get a move on!" Zhao commanded, turning to march. "We're only a few miles outside the capital." That confirmed to the others that either they'd been out of it longer than they'd thought or Facilier had simply used the Darkness to transport them a good distance. "And the clock's ticking."

"Until what?" Wuya asked.

"You'll find out, chère," Facilier replied ominously as he followed Zhao. "Oh, and before I forget…"

He pressed a finger to the ring containing Mim's stone, and the snake sprang back up into action.

"Don't try anything," Wuya told her. "He'll just knock you out again."

Mim reverted to human shape. "Oh, boo!" she grumbled. "Now I'm positively murderous!"

"There'll be plenty of people to take that out on once we get where we're goin'," Facilier said over his shoulder.

"Where are we going?" Mim asked as the quintet fell into step behind Facilier and Zhao.

As Wuya and Xayide explained the itinerary, Vexen nudged the Huntsman's arm. He passed his scroll to the Huntsman, letting him see the message he'd sent to Mozenrath. "To keep your mind off him for the duration of our captivity," Vexen whispered. "He will read the message and find another solution."

The Huntsman simply nodded, hoping that Mozenrath would be able to reach out to other members of the WHAM ARMY soon.

...

At the moment, Mozenrath's hands were tied. Or, more accurately, restrained.

He had paid enough attention to his surroundings to note that he was brought into some sort of palace, ushered immediately to the lowest level. There, in a dark room of stone walls, he had been chained with his hands behind his back. A host of men in green and brown robes stood at either side of the room.

Before Mozenrath could ask any questions, a tall man clad in a slightly more elaborate robe stepped into the room, striding right up to where Mozenrath had been forced to kneel. Mozenrath grit his teeth and gave this man his best glower. He cut an imposing figure, with his hairline reined in halfway across his head and a ponytail bound down the back of his neck while a thin mustache and beard graced the front of his face, leaving plenty of room for his green eyes to pierce. "I assume you know why you are here," the man said.

"No," Mozenrath replied. "As a matter of fact, I don't. I'm assuming these are your men? They haven't bothered to do so much as offer me an explanation for why I was ripped away from minding my own business and chained up in a dungeon. Now, I may not be familiar with the customs of this region, but I'm willing to bet my last denarius that that's considered rude anywhere you go."

"We have a backtalker, don't we?" the man observed with a smirk. "You have been apprehended by the Dai Li by my order."

"And you would be?"

"Long Feng, leader of the Earth King's newly reinstated secret police."

"So the Earth King has it out for me," Mozenrath guessed.

"Rest assured," Long Feng told him, "if he knew what we know about you, he would most definitely consider you a threat."

"But he doesn't know, does he?" Mozenrath retorted. "You're going behind his back because you wanted something done and you didn't want him to say no. I wonder which one of us would be in chains if he knew about all this."

"It would still be you," Long Feng asserted. "You and your company were sighted on a litter, in the midst of our city with no record of your entrance. Your display with its royal symbology made a direct statement against the Earth King. Then, all but one of you disappeared off the face of the map. Why have you come here, and where have your men and women gone?"

"I don't see how that's your business," Mozenrath spat.

"My business," Long Feng growled, "is seeing that peace is kept within the Earth Kingdom. That means neutralizing what threats we can and protecting the public from widespread panic when it comes to the rest."

"Let me see if I can translate that," Mozenrath retorted. "You get rid of people you don't like, and if you find somebody you don't like and you can't get rid of, then you just make sure nobody knows they exist until they break down your door with a battering ram. Am I getting the picture?"

"Is that what you have come to do?" Long Feng asked. "Break down our door? Declare war?"

"Maybe it is and maybe it isn't," Mozenrath taunted. "As I said, it's none of your business."

"You gravely underestimate what you are up against," Long Feng warned. "One way or another, we will find out the truth."

"It's actually you who's doing the grave underestimation," Mozenrath replied coolly.

Long Feng turned toward the door, nodding to his men to follow. "We must make preparations," he said to the other Dai Li agents as he began to stride away. "After all, the Earth King has so graciously extended an invitation to Lake Laogai for our honored guest. We must make sure he has a comfortable trip."

The Dai Li marched out of the chamber, slamming the door behind them.

They would be back soon, Mozenrath knew, with some sort of reinforcement. Whatever this "Lake Laogai" was. He had to act fast.

His wrists had been forced into chains wrought for the average human. The Dai Li either hadn't noticed or hadn't wanted to admit to themselves that his hands were completely skeletal and all that much easier to slide from the restraints. With his hands unbound, Mozenrath went right for his scroll. All he had to do was get a message to the Huntsman and –

The message from Vexen splayed across the screen: "We have been captured by the enemy. Do not follow. Spirit Waters at the North Pole. Get what help you can."

"Well, this puts a damper on an escape plan," Mozenrath grumbled as he opened up a new group message. It was time to call in the reserves. He typed as quickly as he could, briefly relating his status and his location.

Once the message was sent, he tucked the scroll back into his clothes, slipping his hands into the chains. After all, he didn't want his enemy to know that he had that much freedom. They needed to believe they had the upper hand until rescue came.

But would rescue come? Of all the people Mozenrath had reached out to, surely at least one would get the message in time and arrive. However, he soon realized he was fighting a creeping dread.

...

Aang, Zuko, and Katara acted as tour guides, showing Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, Jasmine, and Stork the wonders of the Fire Nation capital. They had stopped for flaming fire flakes along the way, and Sora, Ruby, and Papyrus munched happily as the journey continued.

"And that big palace up there is Zuko's house," Aang explained. "You know, since he's the Fire Lord."

"IT SEEMS AN AWFULLY BIG HOUSE FOR ONE PERSON," Papyrus observed.

"Well, I have the other members of the court to help fill it," Zuko explained. "It does get a little lonely sometimes, but that's where Aang, Katara, and the others come in. I don't really have a family anymore, but I've come to think of them as my family."

"And we're glad to be your family!" Aang said cheerily.

"I'm sorry your family isn't around," Ruby said sympathetically, thinking of how difficult her life would be without Yang, Taiyang, and Qrow. "We already know about your dad. Can I ask what happened to everyone else?"

Zuko bristled.

"Or…or we don't have to talk about it," Ruby said hastily.

"What happened is in the past," Zuko insisted. "Katara basically acts like my mother anyway."

"I do not!" Katara protested.

"I think that was a compliment," Aang pointed out.

"Well, then, thank you, I guess," Katara replied. "I just really feel it's important to look out for everybody, since we're pretty much all each other has. Sokka and I had to grow up without our mom, too."

"You're very strong to have grown up so fast," Jasmine told her. "Losing a parent is never easy. I'm sorry for all of you who had to go through that."

"You lost someone too, didn't you?" Aang asked.

"Aang!" Katara scolded.

"It's all right," Jasmine reassured him. "It was a long time ago. My mother…"

Memories. The scream, the fall.

"My mother threw herself from the palace tower when I was a very young girl," Jasmine explained. "I might never know why she really did it, but she must have been in great pain. I wish I could have done something to help her see that life was worth living. But now all I can do is move on."

Stork cringed at hearing this, thinking back to when Sora, Ruby, and Papyrus had found him on the cliff edge. If he tried such a thing now, he thought, he would leave Jasmine as well as Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, Finn, and Piper in the same conundrum. Never again, he thought, though he knew when things looked bleak, the temptation might very well return. At least now he did have others to turn to if the time came.

"Aang lost his family, too," Katara went on. "I hope you don't mind me saying this, Aang."

"I don't," Aang reassured her. "Everyone else knows by now."

"But when Aang ran away from the Air Nomads and became trapped in the iceberg, time advanced without him, and the Air Nomads were exterminated," Katara recalled. "When he woke up, he had no one. That's why it's important for all of us to stick together. I'm sorry about your mom, Jasmine. I guess you had to grow up fast, too. But it looks like you found a family for yourself too."

"I did," Jasmine confirmed, "and now I'm doing what I can to help everyone in it."

"I don't know what I would do if something happened to my sister, my dad, or my uncle," Ruby broke in, voicing her thought from earlier. "I guess I've had to grow up fast too, but I've had a lot of help."

"You didn't mention your mom," Aang realized.

"Well…" Ruby dragged her feet a little. "She died. When I was really little. She went out into battle, and she never came back. But the rest of us have been doing okay."

"IT IS STRANGE," Papyrus observed. "SO MANY OF US SEEM TO HAVE LOST MEMBERS OF OUR FAMILY. I KNOW THE SAME IS TRUE FOR MY BROTHER AND ME. OUR PARENTS DIED LONG AGO, BEFORE I COULD REMEMBER. MY BROTHER HAS BEEN TAKING CARE OF ME EVER SINCE THEN. THOUGH REALLY, MOST DAYS, IT'S THE OTHER WAY AROUND, AND I HAVE TO CLEAN UP AFTER HIS MESSES AND MAKE SURE HE DOESN'T JUST NAP ON THE COUCH ALL DAY! YOU WOULD THINK I WAS THE OLDER ONE IF YOU JUST WALKED IN ON US!"

"I, uh…" Stork volunteered. "I lost my family too. All of them. The Cyclonian empire attacked Terra Merbia, which was my home. That was the same battle where the Storm Hawks fell. Out of my parents, my brother, and me, I was the only one to make it out alive. I escaped to the wastelands, where I found the Storm Hawks' crashed ship, and I made it my home for ten years. I grew up there alone. I didn't even have a brother or a sister or an uncle. I guess that's one more thing we all have in common. Y'know, growing up fast because of who we lost. It's actually kind of funny, though. My brother always wanted to be a sky knight. He was actually the same age as Aerrow, Finn, Piper, and Junko. You would think that it would make more sense for him to be the one who survived and joined the squadron instead of me. He was always looking for adventure and getting into trouble. He tried to come up with stupid catchphrases, he bragged about how great he was gonna be when he grew up, he didn't get the point of an INDOOR VOICE…but it was me and not him who made it out."

"He sounds a lot like Finn," Sora observed.

"He WAS a lot like Finn," Stork realized. "Finn and Heron would have been best friends."

"I think that probably actually explains why YOU'RE such good friends with Finn," Sora pointed out.

Stork felt as though he'd just been drenched in a cold shower of truth. "That…that actually makes a lot of sense."

"What about you, Sora?" Aang asked. "Did you ever lose anybody in your family?"

"No," Sora answered. "I didn't. It was just me, Mom, and Dad, and nothing bad really happened when I was growing up. That probably makes me the odd one out."

"You're lucky," Ruby told him.

"The worst that happened was when the Darkness took over our island, and the entire world was swallowed by Darkness when I went on my first adventure," Sora mused. "But eventually, everything got put back. I was sure in for it when I got home, though. They weren't too happy that I left without telling them that night – "

"Wait, WHAT?" Ruby barked.

"WHEN YOU SAY YOUR WORLD WAS SWALLOWED BY DARKNESS," Papyrus asked to clarify, "YOU MEAN IT DISAPPEARED?"

"Well, yeah – " Sora answered.

"AND THE NIGHT YOUR ENTIRE WORLD DISAPPEARED, YOU LEFT YOUR PARENTS WITHOUT TELLING THEM?"

"SORA!" Katara joined right in. "How could you DO that? How long were you gone?"

"Well, a year," Sora tried to explain, "but – "

"A YEAR?" Katara bellowed. "You were gone for a YEAR and your parents NEVER KNEW WHY?"

"They didn't remember who I was for most of it," Sora grumbled.

"Please at least tell me your parents were terrible people who deserved to be left behind," Stork sighed.

"No!" Sora protested. "They're great!"

"I have no sympathy for you," Stork told him, deadpan.

"I don't like it either," Jasmine broke in, "but I don't think we should argue about it now. I do want to know if you made things up to them, Sora."

"I did!" Sora emphasized. "I apologized to them when I got back home. They don't really understand about world travel and the Keyblade, but they're trying, and they said they'd cheer me on, no matter what I had to do later. I know they're safe right now, and they love me, and I love them. Maybe I can introduce you all to them one day."

"If things are worked out," Jasmine said, "then that's all that matters."

"I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE YOU DIDN'T EVEN SAY GOODBYE!" Papyrus groaned.

"If you did know what it was like to lose somebody," Katara told him, "you would have understood."

"I probably would," Sora admitted. "I'm sorry now. I should've at least told them I was leaving."

"Yeah," Zuko grunted. "You should've."

"I think Sora knows the mistake he made now," Aang stated, "and he wouldn't do it again."

"Right!" Sora nodded earnestly.

"And now you all have each other as part of your family," Katara pointed out.

"We do!" Jasmine nodded. "I try my best to look after them."

"So do I," Stork added. "It's really those three that need to be watched with an unblinking eye so they don't get into trouble." He gestured to Sora, Ruby, and Papyrus.

"HEY!" the indicated three yelled.

"You mean like Aang and Sokka?" Katara joked.

"I don't get into that much trouble," Aang argued. "And Sokka would be offended if he were here."

"Besides, which one of us decided to dress up as a folk legend at night and made up a story about their sky bison being sick so she could keep playing superhero to a small town?" Zuko reminded Katara.

"That ended up being the best thing we could have done, and you know it!" Katara snapped.

"I wanna hear this story!" Sora insisted.

"Well," Katara began, "when Aang, Sokka, Toph, and I were on our way through the Fire Nation, we stopped at the town of Jang Hui. Everything was wrong there. The river was contaminated, and the people were sick. I just felt so bad for them all. I eventually found out about a legend they had about a spirit called the 'Painted Lady'…"

As the eight continued their way through the capital, they were entertained by Katara's account of taking on the identity of the Painted Lady, and it eventually was agreed upon that it was the right thing for her to have done.

...

Deep within the bustling streets of the Kingdom of the Sun, a building with shining golden walls invited one and all to enter. This was the Kuzco Paradise Spa and Salon, a facility that offered every luxury from massage to haircuts to makeovers to nail care.

This was the building Yzma and Zevon chose for their bonding time. "It won't be run by the sort of specialists that you'd get at the royal palace," Yzma commented, "but they'll do."

"This was a perfect idea!" Zevon complimented. "It will, of course, be difficult to improve how fabulistic we already look and feel. But this could give us a chance to improvise that!"

"Let's see…" Yzma strode toward the selection board. "There's the Kuzcorgeous package, the the Kuzconderful package, the Kuzcexcellent package…" She rolled her eyes. "Really?"

"Is money an object?" Zevon asked.

"Of course not!" Yzma insisted. "We can get whatever we want!"

Zevon jabbed a finger at the option with the most items listed on its itinerary. "Then I say we go with the Kuzcosplendent package!"

Mother and son swaggered to the front desk. The receptionist looked up from her magazine, popping gum in the back of her teeth. "Can I help – " As she looked up to meet Yzma's gaze, she was struck by the sight of the scariest, beyond all reason, woman she had ever seen. "AARGH!"

"No," Yzma replied, "but you can help US."

"Haven't I seen you somewhere before?" the receptionist asked; this woman reminded her of a face from somewhere in her memory. A political figure, perhaps?

Yzma and Zevon just gave a simple and confident "No."

That was enough for the receptionist, who shrugged. "What can I get for you today?"

"We'll be signing up for one Kuzcosplendent package," Yzma informed her.

The receptionist made some notes in a ledger. "And your names?"

"Amzy."

"And I am Amzy's son, Novez!"

"You're all squared away," the receptionist stated. "Step right on into the back and we'll get you set up with your estheticians."

The moment Yzma and Zevon disappeared, the door to the salon opened again. The Kingdom of the Sun's spa treatments, as it turned out, were infamous among those who traveled between the worlds. Those who had visited the world were sure to spread the word, and the reputation had been bolstered, making it a point of interest for anyone who was interested in being pampered for a day. That was what brought the three who entered to that world and that particular building.

"I still don't know about this," Lie Ren said gingerly. "Spas aren't really my thing."

"Maybe not yet," Xander Bly told him, "but you're so tense all the time. You really need to learn to loosen up and relax. I know I could use some rest and relaxation after that whole 'Fairest of All' incident."

"You'll be fine," Cadance assured Ren. "And if you don't like it, then you don't have to come again. Xander and I just thought this could help you relieve some stress."

"You don't seem particularly stressed out," Ren observed.

"Well, I really just like spa visits," Cadance admitted. "Besides, this kind of thing is always better with friends."

They approached the desk, and Cadance took the lead. "Hi," she greeted.

"Hello," the receptionist replied. After seeing Yzma, a talking pony was no great shock. "What can I get for you today?"

"Well, my friends and I would each like to sign up for the Kuzcorgeous package," Cadance explained. "Can you accommodate ponies here…?"

"We've had to treat llamas more than once. Ponies, llamas, same difference."

"Good." Cadance smiled as she telekinetically lifted a purse onto the desk. "This should cover it."

"Just head right on back," the receptionist encouraged, and they did.

...

Side by side, Kairi and Riku ascended the stairway to the tower where the Aurora Stone had once been kept; Dilan marched stoically behind them.

Once they reached the former resting place of the missing radiant crystal, a bespectacled man approached them. "You're here," he sighed. "I was told you would come to evaluate our situation."

"What's the story behind this missing stone?" Riku asked. As Kairi nodded to emphasize his question, Dilan settled back against a wall, lifted the book he'd been carrying, and opened it up to the page where he had left off.

"The Aurora Stone provided light to Terra Atmosia," the man explained. "Without it, we are left in darkness."

"How long was it kept on this Terra?" Riku pressed.

"Oh, for a hundred years or more," the man insisted.

"Where did it come from?" Kairi piped up. "If we know where you got the first one, maybe we can find a second."

"It is practically a myth among our people," the man informed her. "They say the first Aurora Stone was gathered from a cavern on the farthest edge of the Wasteland, where creatures of the deepest Darkness, made of shadows themselves, guarded the crystal. The one to fetch it barely escaped with her life. The stone only revealed itself to her because her heart was filled with light, without a speck of Darkness to be seen. And it is said that another Aurora Stone may one day reveal itself, but only to one who is similarly without Darkness in their heart. The shadow creatures, however, still guard the cavern."

"Could you show us a map to this cavern?" Riku asked.

"What?" The man was taken aback. "You wish to attempt this journey by yourselves? Were you not listening to a word I said? The creatures of shadows!"

"Won't be a problem," Riku said, a hand subconsciously sliding onto the hilt of his sword.

"But one of you must have a heart of pure light!" the man continued to sputter.

Kairi nodded with a smile. "I don't think that will be a problem either."

"Well," the man muttered, "I do believe there were maps drawn that reside in this very chamber…but once again, it is a myth! There is no guarantee that it will be true!"

"We've believed in fairy tales before," Kairi informed him, "and it seems to work out for us."

The man nodded. "Very well."

Soon, Kairi and Riku were descending the same steps, map in hand, as Dilan followed. "Looks like we have our lead," Kairi remarked. "Shadow creatures…are you thinking what I'm thinking?"  
"Heartless," Riku affirmed. "We should be able to clear them out easily."

"Dilan?" Kairi said. "Can you stay here and watch over everybody else while Riku and I go?"

"Your mission seems dangerous," Dilan argued. "It only makes sense that you should have extra arms at the ready."

"But the bulk of the operation is here on this Terra," Riku reminded him. "Besides, Kairi and I may not have our Keyblades, but we still have all the training that comes with them. The others might need more of a hand if disaster strikes."

"Then I shall remain," Dilan confirmed. "I had wanted to catch up on my reading."

As the trio exited, they passed a construction site where Nick, Vida, Madison and Chip finished raising a wall and settling it into place. "Nice job!" Kairi complimented.

"Thanks!" Chip replied. "Only three more of these to go!"

"On THIS house, anyway," Nick groaned.

"Just look on the bright side," Madison encouraged. "We get to paint these later. That'll be fun!"

"Keep up the good work," Riku told them.

"What about you two?" Vida asked. "Where are you headed?"  
"We're going to take two skimmers out into the Wasteland," Riku informed them. "We have a lead on where we might be able to get another Aurora Stone."

"Good luck!" Chip told them earnestly.

"See you when we get back!" Kairi called to the Mystic Rangers as she and Riku moved toward the skimmer dock; Dilan parted ways from them, beginning a patrol around the Terra to check in on everyone's progress.

"All right, everyone," Nick rallied. "It's time for the next wall – "

What was unmistakably Riku's voice drifted back toward them: "They're useless without their powers. After this, I think we should send them back to Briarwood."

"Nick can't get along with anyone anyway," Kairi's voice chimed in. "And I know we're blue buddies and all, but Madison's no fighter."

"WHAT?" Nick, Chip, Vida, and Madison all ran after Riku and Kairi only to find them long gone.

"Did they say what I THINK they said about us?" Vida snapped.

"Send us back to Briarwood?" Madison reiterated, feeling a twist at the base of her stomach.

"I thought we were friends," Chip moped. "It shouldn't matter how good we are in battle."

"Maybe we misheard," Nick suggested. "They were way too far away for us to have heard them saying that."

"Then who said it?" Vida asked.

"I don't know," Nick admitted, "but whoever it is, they're right about one thing: I'm not going to get along with them after that."

...

It wasn't long before Grany was rescued from the elevator and Neo called up from her search. Rémington sat cross-legged on his bed as Neo, Grany, Snatcher, and Roman circled up around him.

"All right," Roman groaned, "what'd you find?"

"Trust me," Rémington assured him, "it's good. Turns out there's a ventilation shaft that's accessible from the elevator shaft and leads right into the library." He paused to let that sink in.

"Well," Snatcher commented, "you've certainly got our attention. Do elaborate."

"It wouldn't be big enough for you or Grany," Rémington went on, "but Roman or Neo would have no problem. And you – " He turned to Roman. " – are all we need. You said if you could get close to that burglar alarm, you could disable it, right?"

"Right!" Roman's face lit up. "And you found a way to get me up close and personal without setting it off! NICE!"

"Well, going in through the vent still triggers the alarm," Rémington cautioned him, "but then all you have to do is hide and wait it out. After that, it's smooth sailing. We have the rest of you wait around the corner, Roman texts you when we kill the alarm, we'll unlock it from the other side, and you all just get to waltz in like you own the place. From there, the search begins."

"I like this plan," Roman said eagerly. "What's the catch?"

"There isn't a catch," Rémington told him. "And it being the time of night that it is, we can probably make a fair bit of noise in the library and be undisturbed so long as the alarm is dead."

"Well done, Mr. Smisse!" Snatcher congratulated, and Neo gave an emphatic nod.

"Keeping in mind he was figuring all this out while I was trapped in an elevator," Grany huffed.

"I sent help, didn't I?" Rémington reminded him. "You of all people should know I wouldn't leave you in the lurch. Now, these other three, they're expendable."

"Which is exactly what you want to hear from your heist partner in the midst of a dangerous operation," Roman groaned.

"Leave Torchwick, Miss Neopolitan, or myself behind," Snatcher growled, "and whomever remains shall make sure you never hear the end of it from Lord Mozenrath."

"I see you can't take a joke," Rémington hastily covered.

Within a few minutes, the upper panel of the elevator was popped out of place once more. Roman boosted Rémington through; Rémington reached back down to pull Roman up. Once both stood atop the elevator car, Rémington gestured to the ladder across the gap. "There," he announced.

"Starting to see the catch," Roman said warily as he eyed the gap.

"What, you can't make the jump?" Rémington backed up three paces, then bolted forward, leaping across the gap, landing deftly on the ladder. "It isn't that far!" he called back with a smirk before scaling it enough to leave Roman a landing place.

"Oh, it isn't that FAR!" Roman repeated sarcastically. "I see that now! That makes me feel so much better about this!" He wished he'd thought to bring the Cudgel; that could at least hook the ladder if his hands didn't grip right. But he hadn't anticipated needing it for this sort of situation. "Well, here goes nothing." He backed up as far as he could, brushing the wall behind him. "Hey, Rémy," he suddenly called out.

"What?" Rémington asked, dangling from the ladder by one hand and one foot to better pivot to view Roman. His smirk was all the more smug.

"If I die in here," Roman barked, "you better tell Archie what fucking happened."

"He'd kill me," Rémington replied, "so I think the version I'd go with is that it was a perfectly safe crossing and you somehow managed to trip on your own feet."

"Fuck you."

Rémington just winked.

Roman charged, leaping from the elevator car at the last possible moment. His hands reached out, grasping frantically; Roman slammed into the ladder, feeling the places where several new bruises would form. His feet slid and scrambled, but his grip on the ladder bars was secure, and soon he found a safe footing.

"You know," Rémington pointed out, "you could have just lowered the elevator to the basement, then walked across the floor to the ladder without having to make the jump."

"NOW you tell me?"

"I think you and I can both agree it was more fun this way."

"Yeah," Roman grunted as he looked down at the floor of the shaft. "Just barrels and barrels of fun. Hang on…" He surveyed the floor, noting an oddity. If the elevator were called to the basement, it would sink into an indent in the floor, its roof becoming flush with the hard cement of the shaft. But just to the side of that indent, a gate. "Does that look like a pathway down into the VERY bottom of the shaft to you?"

"Why would anyone want to go down there?" Rémington asked.

"Maybe elevator maintenance," Roman suggested. "Or maybe it's something else Grumpy doesn't want us to find. Worth checking out later, don't you think?"

"I'm in," Rémington said before slipping into the vent.

Roman scaled the ladder and entered the duct himself.

Dexter Egan stormed into the library for the second time that night thanks to the security alarm. This time, he thought, someone had to have set it off. But a glance around the library revealed no one to be seen. "Stupid faulty alarm," Dexter grumbled as he entered the key code to silence the beeping. "Might as well not have you at all, for all the good you do." He took his leave, slamming the door behind him.

Once he was gone, Rémington slithered back out of the vent, beckoning for Roman to follow.

"Might as well not have an alarm at all, huh?" Roman repeated as he descended the spiral stairway and crossed the room to where the alarm was situated on the wall. He withdrew a pair of wire cutters from a pocket. "Well, ask and you shall receive!"

Snatcher, Grany, and Neo were putting on a show of looking as inconspicuous as possible in the lounge off to the side of the lobby, pretending to glance over the few books set in the shelves as reading material: mostly snore-worthy history lessons as far as they were concerned. Snatcher and Neo's scrolls beeped; that was the signal for all three to get up and bolt to the library door. Snatcher gave it a polite knock; Roman answered with confusion.

"Okay, nice timing, everyone," Roman greeted, "but I didn't give the signal yet."

Snatcher and Neo exchanged glances before withdrawing their scrolls and taking a good look at the text message they'd both received. "Oh, Monsieur Torchwick," Snatcher said in his best Frou Frou voice, "you may want to take a look at your own scroll."

Snatcher, Neo, and Grany quickly hustled into the library while Roman dug his scroll out of his pocket, looking at the text message he too had received. "Shit," he whispered as he read Mozenrath's brief recapitulation of his capture and request for help. "This better not mean we have to drop everything and take the ship all the way out – "

Another text sprang up in the group message: a simple "I'll take care of this" from another recipient.

"I believe that should solve that problem," Snatcher remarked. "He can get there faster than any of us. We'd best ignore the situation. It isn't as though Lord Mozenrath hasn't crawled out of tighter scrapes."

"You know, you don't have to keep doing the voice," Grany told Snatcher. "There isn't anyone around who can hear."

"Nor should there be anyone around who will criticize when I do what I want," Snatcher rebutted, not dropping his voice by a note as he gave Grany's chest a light disciplinary nudge. "Now, let us commence the search."

The five spread out, rifling through papers, leafing through books, and testing any bit of architecture that looked out of the ordinary.

"What are we even looking for?" Grany wondered out loud.

"Well, the caretaker was apparently trying to look for something in here," Rémington recalled. "He couldn't find it, and he's had years to look for it."

"We shall just have to be smarter than Monseiur Caretaker, then, shan't we?" Snatcher posed.

Neo flashed him a thumbs-up.

Rémington became intrigued by a large globe that took up a corner of the library. He fiddled with the piece holding its top in place, twisting it like a dial.

"Hey, Rémy?" Roman called over to him. "Stop fucking around with random shit. You are not going to find anything by playing with – "

The globe cracked open at the center. Rémington curiously lifted up the upper half, revealing scrolls of paper.

"You're shitting me," Roman gawked.

The other four crowded around Rémington's discovery; the papers displayed a diagram of an astrolabe as well as a series of numbers.

"This means nothing to us yet," Snatcher mused, "but perhaps it is the answer to a question not yet asked."

"I'm still not over the fact that he just…found that by fucking with random shit," Roman reiterated, taking a few steps back. A panel in the wall caught his eye: one emblazoned in gold with the words "A wise rabbit will have three openings to his den." "Oh, see, this looks weird," Roman said sarcastically, putting a hand on the panel. "Next, you're going to tell me that if I just fuck with this thing, it's going to reveal a secret…"

The panel slid downward when he pressed it. Behind it, set in the wall, was a brass astrolabe.

"WHAT THE HELL?" Roman cried. "THAT WASN'T SUPPOSED TO DO ANYTHING!"

"And yet," Snatcher pointed out, "it looks quite a bit familiar, no?" He held up the paper Rémington had found next to the astrolabe. "And the numbers written here must be…"

With one dainty finger, Snatcher clicked the astrolabe to the three measurements indicated by the numbers on the scroll.

A loud creak sounded from upstairs, next to the ventilation duct by which Roman and Rémington had made entry.

There was a brief squabble as each of the five tried to be first up the narrow spiral stairway to see what had happened. Finally, the entire company piled up in front of an equally narrow panel that had peeled away from the wall to reveal a secret room the size of a large closet, with two desks filling most of the floor space.

Once again, all five attempted to crowd into the room, with less than satisfactory results. "Okay, we need to elect ONE representative to check it out," Roman stated.

Grany pointed at Rémington, who raised his hand to volunteer. Neo shoved Roman in the direction of the small chamber, causing him to stumble.

"I agree with Mademoiselle Neopolitan, but of course," Snatcher said. "Monseiur Torchwick should have the honors. After all, he did disable the alarm."

"I found the way for him to get to that alarm!" Rémington protested.

"Well, I vote for me, so it's three to one," Roman taunted. "Sucks to suck." He stepped into the room, taking a glance around. "It's a bit dark in here for reading, isn't it?" Producing a lighter from his jacket pocket, he located a thick, round candle. "Let there be light." He set the wick aflame, plucking a piece of weathered paper from the desk. "Sappy poem in bad handwriting," he muttered, "boring, boring." He lay down the paper; as he turned to the second desk, his eye caught the now illuminated wall, where butterflies of various colors were pinned behind glass. "Somebody has a morbid hobby." The other desk held two scrapbooks; Roman picked up the first and weighed it. Prying open the cover, he observed, "This is just the caretaker guy's dad gushing about how cute of a kid he was. We went through all that for THIS?"

"There must be something the architect of this room was desperate to hide," Snatcher encouraged.

Roman set down the book, picking up the second one. "Whoa!" he exclaimed after a few page turns. "Okay, THIS is where it gets interesting. 'Dexter Egan' is the guy who checked us in, right? Grumpy at the desk?"

Neo nodded affirmatively.

"Well, get this," Roman revealed. "His dad kept receipts. Ol' Grumpy was a hardened felon. I've got notes in here about vandalism, a newspaper article about him passing counterfeit checks…oh, and here's a letter revoking Grumpy's right to inherit this building, with a cute little note from Daddy Dearest: 'I'd rather see it burn!'." He looked up from the scrapbook. "Is he one of US?"

"I would not jump to conclusions until we have further evidence with which to judge his character," Snatcher cautioned. "For all we know, he's turned over a new leaf, and should he know too much about our little scheme, he would bring it to a premature halt."

"But this all makes sense, right?" Roman posed. "Whatever's hidden here, he was supposed to inherit it, but he didn't. So he faked messing up the library to get an excuse to poke around here and find this room without anyone else getting in the way. Of course, he didn't fuck with enough random shit, so here we are and there he isn't."

"But did he know the room was worthless?" Grany wondered out loud.

Neo gestured back to the paper Roman had discarded earlier.

"He wasn't looking for a stupid poem," Roman told her dryly.

"But perhaps…" Snatcher spied an item of interest over Roman's shoulder. "He was looking for the candle."

"The candle?" Roman turned around to look at the candle he had lit in order to get a better look at the room. Embedded in the wax was a long and rusty key. "Now, THERE'S something actually interesting!" Enough of the wax had melted that it didn't take much work at all to dislodge the key from its resting place; all the same, the light was doused in the process. Roman strode from the room, key held high. "Who wants to bet that this unlocks something juicy?"

"What are we going to do, try every single lock in the building until we find where it goes?" Rémington huffed.

"Isn't that more or less how you found this in the first place?" Roman reminded him.

"Then I should hang onto it," Rémington offered. "I'm more likely to find where it goes."

"Um, I found it, so I'm keeping it," Roman argued.

"It is our communal key," Snatcher informed them both. "We must implement a diplomatic way to share its possession."

"Rock-paper-scissors for it?" Roman suggested.

"I would hardly call that diplomatic – " Snatcher tried to interrupt.

Rémington's paper covered Roman's rock, and the key disappeared into Rémington's pocket.

Neo and Grany gave a simultaneous shrug at the dumbfounded Snatcher.

"Well, that's all that was in there," Roman announced. "I think we've tapped this place out."

"Perhaps it is time to reconvene and discuss strategy?" Snatcher suggested. "Or, preferably, to recharge with some well-deserved beauty sleep, then discuss strategy."

"You go ahead," Roman told the others, glancing back up at the vent. "There's one more thing I want to check out."

"I'm coming with you," Rémington insisted. "I want to see if what you saw leads anywhere."

"Oh, and if I die in there," Roman said, "it's his fault."

"I'd rather you didn't perish," Snatcher told Roman, giving him an affectionate, gentle pinch on the cheek. "I would be beside myself with grief if something were to happen to you."

Roman flushed, firing Snatcher a coy smile. "That is a very good reason to live," he said.

"Is anyone else sick of these two acting sappy?" Rémington groaned. This earned him a punch on the arm from Neo.

Moments later, Roman and Rémington hit the floor of the elevator shaft in order to investigate what Roman had spied earlier. "What have we here?" A metal gate set in the ground covered what was unmistakably a set of stairs leading to where the elevator would rest were it in the basement. Roman knelt and tugged on the grate; it didn't budge.

"Now which one of us is trying random things?" Rémington teased. "Up here."

Roman glanced up to where Rémington leaned against a great lever protruding from the floor.

"Shut up," Roman grunted as he shooed Rémington and grasped the lever. He tugged at it only to realize: "Damn thing's rusted shut. That only figures. Give me a hand with this?"

The combined strength of Roman and Rémington was enough to force the lever out of its position; the grate popped open. Roman strode confidently down the narrow-walled stairway with Rémington close behind.

The stairs ended where the elevator would have rested. The weights that kept the elevator on the second level were suspended there before what appeared, at first glance, to be a wall. As Roman and Rémington entered this chamber and got a closer look, they realized it wasn't a wall.

"That's a door," Rémington observed. "If these weights weren't in the way…"

Roman's eye was caught by a button set in the wall. "Well, hello!" he remarked. "I think we both know what we do with THESE!" Without hesitation, he pressed the button.

The weights slid upward, out of the way, revealing the door. Six heavy iron bars locked it in place.

"Score!" Roman drew back one of the bars; it immediately snapped back. "Um, okay…" He tried another, and it stayed out until he chose a third bar; then both bars snapped into position once more. "I get it," he muttered.

"Um, Roman?" Rémington realized. "If the weights are going up – "

"This is some kind of puzzle," Roman said to himself. "Whoever set this up was a real smartass. You have to pull out the bars in the right order." He pulled the first bar from before, then another one; both stayed out. He chose a third; snap! "There are really only so many combinations to try."

"ROMAN."

"Not now, Rémy! I'm working this out!"

Rémington trembled as he watched the elevator car descend upon himself and Roman at a rapid pace. Without warning, he grabbed Roman's shoulders, throwing the weight of both of their bodies back onto the stairs as the elevator car slid into place; it would have crushed them had he not acted.

"WHOA!" Roman looked back at where the elevator car filled the chamber where they had once stood. Then he turned his gaze to Rémington. "You actually saved my ass." He grinned as he stood, brushing himself off. "You have more of a conscience than I thought."

"Call it loyalty to a fellow rogue," Rémington corrected, trying to stand up and immediately being pulled back down. Annoyed, he glanced back to see the elevator car pinning his cape down.

Roman bit back a laugh as he watched Rémington squirm and struggle, only to finally give the upper half of his cape a tight grip and a sharp tug; the cape ripped in half, and Rémington sighed as he realized he was forced to leave the rest of it where it lay.

"You know, that outfit really doesn't work with half a cape," Roman commented.

"Shut up," Rémington grunted, giving Roman a shove to indicate he should go back up the stairs. "We'll check this thing out later. Maybe tomorrow."

"What, you have other plans for tomorrow?"

"I just got an idea of where else we might be able to turn up something interesting," Rémington explained.

"Good for you," Roman told him as he made it back to the ladder leading to the ventilation shaft. "I'm thinking of going more the route of what will net us cold, hard cash, whether there's a secret here or not."

...

Guards bedecked in deep red armor exchanged their posts at the front gate of the prison in the Fire Nation capital. As the afternoon guards took their leave of the shift, the evening guards settled in to begin patrol.

Had they only been aware they had given the afternoon guards their pass to live.

The front gate was slammed upon once, twice, then battered down by a magenta bison. This creature was flanked by two women and four men, all of whom marched into the front hallway with purpose in their eyes.

"HALT!" one of the guards commanded, holding out a hand. "YOU WILL GO NO FURTHER!"

"I beg to differ," Facilier said with a smirk.

Another guard recognized one of the invaders. "Zhao?" he said in amazement. "You're alive?"

"I am," Zhao confirmed. "You're not going to be so lucky."

"Well?" Facilier looked to the five captive members of the WHAM ARMY. "Have at them. Take no prisoners."

The Huntsman aimed his staff and charged. Mim stormed toward her target, flailing her horns. Vexen put up his shield. Wuya braced for combat. Xayide simply strode forward calmly.

The first guard to collide with the group punched forward, sending a blast of fire at the Huntsman. The Huntsman conjured a barrier shield with the huntstaff, deflecting the flames. He twirled the staff, jabbing it at the guard again and again; the guard nimbly danced out of his way, sweeping an arc of fire at the Huntsman's mask. The Huntsman ducked, letting the fire soar over him; when he rose, he wrapped his arms around the guard in a headlock. He slammed the guard's body to the ground before taking staff in hand once more, raising it up, finding where breastplate separated from fauld, and drove it down.

As fire was thrown at Mim, she transfigured into a nimble hummingbird, zipping through the gaps in the attacks thrown at her. At the exact moment she came in proximity of her target, she took the form of an Ursa, slamming the guard to the ground and ripping open his armor like the lid of an aluminum can before rending his body.

Wuya danced around a guard as he threw punch after punch at her; flames burst from his arms, and she narrowly avoided being licked by each one. A kick from her sent her attacker sailing into the wall; as he reeled from the impact, she performed a handspring that ended in another kick to his head. Bright green magic flashed through his armor. As his skin was exposed, Wuya summoned a dagger into each hand and slashed crossways.

Xayide waited for the conflagration to be sent her way; as fireballs loomed closer, she put out her hands. She nimbly caught each attack meant for her, juggling the fire as though it were solid and reforming it into a projectile of her own. She bowled it across the floor, where it struck the guard who had sent it toward her. The flames stopped just below the guard's feet, rising in size and intensity; his armor melted to his skin.

Vexen blocked three blasts of fire and a series of punches with his shield; he shoved hard against his foe, pinning the guard to the wall before a cluster of icy spikes shot upward from the floor to impale him. Vexen could tell from his victim's cries that he had only wounded, not killed; he encased the guard in a cocoon of ice, binding him to the wall, to let him bleed out.

Once the front hallway was cleared, Vexen turned back to Facilier and remarked, "I do hate fire SO much. But I'm sure you were aware of my history with it when we met."

"That's what makes this so fun," Facilier remarked.

"I don't even have to lift a finger, do I?" Zhao asked.

"You sound disappointed," Facilier observed. "Don't worry. We still have several floors to go until we reach our target. You'll get a chance to join in the party."

As the group moved onward and upward, Zhao joined in the fray, knocking out the lights of armored guards before Xayide conjured up a pollaxe to drive through them.

Vexen iced over the floor, causing most of the guards to slip and fall in line where Mim could easily trample them with her rhinoceros feet.

Wuya caused an entire section of the ceiling to fall down onto one of her opponents, crushing him beyond recognition.

The Huntsman blasted a guard twice before severing his head.

Zhao incinerated a man's throat.

Xayide forced another to swallow the fire he had attempted to throw at her.

Vexen froze the hands and feet of several would-be firebenders before they could get a chance to aim at him, then let the spikes of ice do their work.

Mim struck one with fast-acting venom while in the body of a cobra.

Wuya suplexed a guard and brought him down hard on a leftover ice spike.

The Huntsman ran two men through on his huntstaff.

"If we weren't doing this in forced servitude to an ally of Maleficent," Xayide remarked, "I might actually be enjoying myself."

"What are you talking about?" Mim called back as she used her buffalo horns to throw a guard against the wall. "I AM enjoying myself!"

"Might as well make the best of a bad situation," Wuya added as she threw a punch that sent a guard reeling.

"That's easy for all of YOU to say!" Vexen barked as he blocked a stream of fire. "None of you have ever been INCINERATED!"

Still onward, still upward.

"RUN!" one of the guards attempted to yell as he barreled down the hall where the highest-security prisoners were held. "THEY'RE KILLING EVER – "

He was completely frozen over midsentence before a blast of green energy shattered both the iceberg and the guard inside of it.

The other guards got the picture and ran. Some made it to safety. Others were gunned down by Zhao's fire, Vexen's spears of ice, Wuya's green energy, and impromptu weapons summoned by Xayide.

"If nothing else," Vexen sighed, "we have proven that the team I assembled is efficiently powerful."

Facilier strode toward one of the now unguarded cells. "Ladies and gentlemen," he announced, "I think we have what we came for."

Staring out of the cell menacingly was a muscular man with long, unkempt dark hair streaming down from his head. "Have you come to murder me?" he growled.

"Quite the opposite," Facilier told him. "All this killing was done for your sake! If anything, you should be grateful to us."

"My lord!" Zhao approached the bars of the cell, then bent at the knee, pressing a fist to his chest. "I am in your service once more!"

"Zhao?" the prisoner remarked. "This is surprising. Do you fancy yourselves my loyalists?"

"He is," Facilier reassured the prisoner. "I'm more interested in a partnership. As for the other five, they're just the muscle of the operation. Trust 'em as far as you can throw 'em. Now, you ready to get out of that cell?"

"I have been from the moment I arrived," the prisoner growled.

Vexen weakened the structural integrity of the bars by freezing them over; it was then no problem for Wuya to bash through them with a well-placed blast of magic. The prisoner strode forth, eyes glinting with fire, even though no firebending remained within him.

"Wuya," Facilier commanded, "get our guest of honor a change of clothes. He can't go around lookin' all mussed up. He is, after all, the Phoenix King."

Reluctantly, knowing she was going to be sent down for the count if she disobeyed, Wuya flicked a hand toward the prisoner. His hair was smoothed out, trailing down his back, neatly trimmed. His ragged attire became a resplendent red and orange robe with a sun-shaped brooch at the collar and epaulets that curled like flames.

"Your majesty Ozai," Facilier greeted, dipping into a sweeping bow. When he noticed the reluctance of the WHAM ARMY, he hissed, "BOW."

Vexen, Xayide, Mim, Wuya, and the Huntsman all bent slightly at the waist.

"You spoke of a partnership," Ozai told Facilier. "This interests me. I want to know what you offer that makes you think you can consider yourself my equal."

"You can still get what you want without steppin' on my toes," Facilier told him. "In fact, I want you to sit on the throne of the Fire Nation again. And tomorrow night, I'm gonna make sure you get there. But we can talk terms when there ain't anyone listening."

"I know who is imprisoned in these surrounding cells," Ozai growled, "and there is no one of any consequence listening."

"All the same, I'd feel better if we took this somewhere private," Facilier told him.

As Facilier and Ozai spoke, Mim positioned herself behind Facilier, thoroughly fed up. She conjured a large hammer: not enough to kill Facilier, but enough to knock him out so she could retrieve the stolen souls. She drew it back for a swing –

Facilier tapped the ring with her soul.

As Mim dropped to the ground, unconscious, Facilier heaved a sigh, turning to the Huntsman, Vexen, Xayide, and Wuya. "She's gonna be a problem, ain't she?"

"I'm surprised you didn't already know she'd be ready to give you heck," Wuya commented.

"What did you do to her?" Ozai asked.

Zhao stood. "He has imprisoned the souls of these five warriors within his rings, my lord," he quickly explained. "He can control them with a touch."

Facilier flinched; he really wished Zhao hadn't said that before they had secured privacy.

"I see." Ozai fixed Facilier with a piercing glare. "I have not heard of such a thing before. What other talents do you have?"

"Plenty," Facilier told him. "Now, shall we get this little show on the road?"

He struck his cane against the prison floor. A Corridor of Darkness opened. "Après vous."

Ozai strode into the portal, followed by Zhao. Facilier beckoned his five captives to come with him, and reluctantly, they all did – all except Mim, who five Neo-Shadows sprang up to carry.


	49. Hidden Gems

1\. Hidden Gems

In the dead of night, Facilier, Ozai, Zhao, Vexen, Xayide, the Huntsman, Mim, and Wuya made camp a good distance away from the Fire Nation capital. The former three stood around a fire created by Zhao while the latter five sat around a fire of their own, conjured by Xayide.

"Maybe this gig won't be so bad," Wuya mused. "Sure, we might never see our home base or our friends again, and we have to rely on everyone else to make sure Mozenrath doesn't die, but at least we got to lay waste to a prison complex. Maybe we'll get to utilize our more destructive sides after all."

"For as long as Maleficent's henchpeople consider us useful," the Huntsman pointed out. "And knowing her grudge against us, it is highly likely she will have us disposed of after we have earned her the Fire Nation capital."

"At least the five of us went down together," Wuya replied.

"Unfortunately, the five of us are going down together," Vexen grunted.

"We're not going down at all if I can help it!" Mim grunted.

"You believe there is still hope for us?" Xayide posed.

"I know we're not going out with this level of indignity!" Mim huffed.

"Since when has dignity been a priority to you?" Vexen snapped.

"If y'all are talkin' mutiny," Facilier called over, "y'all are lookin' at an early bedtime."

"We were discussing no such thing," Xayide tried to assure him.

"Whatever you're talkin'," Facilier called back, "stop it."

"Can we at least talk about the weather?" Wuya asked.

"No," Facilier snapped.

The five sighed, rising and trudging over to Zhao's fire to hear more about the grand plan they hadn't signed up for.

"You promise I will be on the throne of the Fire Nation once more tomorrow night," Ozai reminded Facilier. "I wish to know how you believe this possible."

"You know what tomorrow night is?" Facilier posed.

"The Winter Solstice," Zhao volunteered.

"Also known as the longest night of the year," Facilier clarified. "For waterbenders, the full moon gives them extra power. For you firebenders, it's Sozin's Comet. And for me, it's the longest night. See, I work in Darkness now. My friends are a particular brand of it. Allow me to introduce you." He beckoned, and a crowd of Neo-Shadows stumbled into view of the fire.

"How adorable," Zhao said sarcastically.

"Know what these are?" Facilier asked.

"No," Ozai said flatly.

"Heartless," Facilier introduced. "Creatures of pure Darkness that cause rampant destruction and rip people's hearts out of their bodies. Oh, they may not look like much, but get an army of them together and you wouldn't believe what they can do. And these are just some of the little ones. Now try imagining an army of something more like this."

He struck the ground with his cane. A mass of pure Darkness rose up behind him, towering over the group. Ozai and Zhao craned their necks upward; Zhao gaped as a Darkside took on its humanoid shape.

"And that ain't even the half of what I can do," Facilier commented. "The dark of the Solstice will give my little friends extra power, and I can bring forth almost unlimited quantities of them. Then, of course, we'll have our five little bodyguards to walk us right up to the palace gates. I'd like to see what could stand against that."

Ozai walked reverently toward the Darkside, which stood obediently at attention. He reached out, placing a hand on the Darkside's lower leg. "Impressive," he said. "I believe I shall come to be very fond of these creatures."

"That's both a good and a bad thing," Facilier informed him. "See, if we're gonna make this work, I'm eventually gonna have to leave you to your post. If you wanna keep the Heartless around, you gotta make them respect you. But get too greedy with the Darkness, and it ain't gonna be pretty for you. I can show you how to make 'em fall in line with what you say, but use it carefully."

Ozai turned back to Facilier. "I still wish to know what makes this employer of yours so interested in the Fire Nation."

"She's interested in power," Facilier explained. "Power's what you had before your baby boy and his little friends decided to take it away from you. And power's what you will have when the whole thing's said and done. I think you're gonna like her when you meet her."

"I no longer have the power I once had," Ozai seethed, "and I never will again."

"Never say never," Facilier told him. "Pull this off, and I might be able to put in a word with her about lighting your fire back up."

Ozai mulled that over. "A proposition that seems incredible," he commented, "and yet most of what you have said and done seems equally incredible. Still, in the absence of fire, I shall need something else to hold my position. Command over these creatures should suffice. If I am to avoid the fate you warned against, where is my limit?"

"Maybe call in two or three big ones," Facilier suggested. "More around fifty of the little ones. Don't even think about doing anything on the scale I'm gonna do."

"What do you believe makes you fit to give me orders?"

"Not orders, your majesty. Warnings."

"And what do we do until tomorrow nightfall?" Zhao asked.

"Ask any questions you want about Maleficent," Facilier offered. "I'll tell you all I know. That should kill a few hours at least."

"And them?" Ozai motioned to the Huntsman, Vexen, Wuya, and Xayide, who had been listening in diligently.

"I'll shut them down if we end up talking about anythin' they shouldn't hear," Facilier responded.

He then tapped the ring that held Mim's soul just as Mim, in the body of a panther, leapt at Facilier from the bushes. She dropped unconscious on the ground mid-bound.

...

As the Wickford Castle elevator pulled into the basement, delivering Roman and Neo, they ran into the brothers Smisse in the ski lobby.

"Bonjour, mes amis!" the ski instructor, one Jacques Brunais, called from the equipment rental window. "Can I help you on this fine day?"

Neo nodded, skipping up to the window. Roman quickly hustled into the adjacent locker room, beckoning for the Smisses to follow.

"What's going on here?" Grany asked.

"Neo and I have it worked out," Roman whispered. "While she distracts the guy who runs this half of the operation, I'm going to crack all the lockers. Think about it. Purses. Wallets. Debit cards…that won't be of any use to us once we get off this world. Back to relevant things, jewelry. I am not walking outta here empty-handed."

"You have that little faith that Madame Frou Frou will actually find something of value here?" Rémington teased.

"No," Roman hissed, suddenly aware of what he had implied. "But do you really think I should pass this opportunity up?"

"You can crack combination locks?" Grany asked.

"You're really surprised by that?" Roman replied. "I have a natural ear for it. Anyway, where were you two idiots going?"

"Outside," Rémington said proudly.

Roman sighed. "You know, when I said 'idiots,' it was a term of endearment. I didn't expect you to actually want to go outside and freeze your asses off."

"We've already cased the interior of the castle," Rémington reminded him. "We have no idea what's waiting for us on the outside."

"Well, I only have a limited amount of time before Neo can't stall any longer," Roman told them, "so I'm not gonna argue. Just get out of here and let me do my work."

He pressed his ear to one of the lockers, gently twisting the combination lock as he listened for a delicate click. Rémington and Grany turned their attention to the door at the far end of the locker room, which led directly outside.

The temperature had hardly improved. Rémington and Grany soon found themselves in a wide plain of snow as more flakes billowed down from above.

"Maybe this wasn't a good idea," Grany muttered through clenched teeth.

"We've been through colder," Rémington reminded him.

A quick look around revealed the presence of a shed in the distance; a great stone wall curved around from its left side. "We should check out that shed," Grany suggested. "At the very least, it will be warmer than – Rémy, where are you going?"

Rémington trudged around the wall to its other side. "There's no reason to put a wall this big here unless it's hiding something."

"Rémy!" Grany followed his brother with a reluctant sigh. He knew there was no talking him out of this.

The wall led to a corner behind the shed; draping ivy obscured part of it completely. "There," Grany told Rémington. "It's a dead end. Are you happy?"

"A dead end?" Rémington repeated. "Are you sure?" He reached out to brush aside the ivy, revealing metal bars that peered into the space beyond. When he turned back to Grany, the grin upon his face was far too smug.

"All right, then," Grany retorted. "Open it up."

Rémington shook the bars; they held firm. He traced his finger over the intricate design; rather than simply running straight up and down, they curved into a circle at the center. Under Rémington's touch, the circle shifted slightly. Rémington seized and rotated the circular bars until a click was heard; still the gate did not move. It was then that Rémington noticed the lock. He gently withdrew the key he carried, inserting it; the gate was shoved wide open, allowing access to a small stone-walled area that, in less snowy conditions, might be termed a garden. Forgoing any snide cracks, Rémington strode into the garden, waving to beckon Grany after him.

Stone benches and a dried-up three-tier fountain adorned the stone walls. Inset of one wall was a bust of a face neither of the Smisses recognized. Set out near the center of the garden space was a pillar that bore an ornamental armillary sphere.

"This does look suspicious," Grany admitted. "Maybe it's what Egan was looking for the whole time. What if he knew where it was, but he also knew he was missing the key?"

"Then we are two steps ahead of him," Rémington assured Grany.

Grany pulled one of the stone benches out from the wall. "But what are we looking for?"

Rémington approached the armillary sphere, giving it a good look-over. He nudged it with a finger, and it moved. He twisted it ninety degrees from its original position with a creak.

"Rémy," Grany sighed as he turned back to face his brother, "there's a point where messing with random things really isn't going to help…us…"

He'd noticed it over Rémington's shoulder. The bust had turned ninety degrees as well.

"What?" Rémington asked.

"That statue," Grany informed him. "When you turned that arrow thing, it turned too!"

Rémington focused on the statue as he gave the armillary sphere another turn. The bust now swiveled all the way around; a wooden lever protruded from the back of the sculpted head.

"Did you know it would do that?" Grany asked incredulously.

There was altogether too long of a pause before Rémington stated, "Yes."

They raced for the statue; they pulled the lever together. The base of the pillar that held the bust opened up via loose panel, revealing an intricately patterned metal box locked by a keyhole.

"You think your key will work on that too?" Grany asked.

Rémington knelt, inserting the key into the box. The lid popped open, and the object inside caused the eyes of both brothers to widen in amazement. The box's contents consisted of a golden disc, half a foot in diameter, inset with a glimmering red gem.

"What is that?" Grany wondered out loud.

"Something valuable," Rémington replied as he plucked the disc from the box. "Also, it's ours now."

"Three steps ahead of Egan!"

Rémington stood, brushing snow from his shoulders. "All right. Want to check out that shed?"

...

Mozenrath was dragged into a darker, smaller chamber, where he was propped up in a chair by a pair of Dai Li agents. Despite the warnings he had been given regarding his health, he struggled, but he sorely lacked the strength necessary to break their grip. They sat him down; they bound him to the chair with restraints made of stone that tightened at their will. There was no sliding out of these.

One of the men stood at the very center of the room, a metal ring surrounding him. "Hello," he greeted.

"I'd say it's nice to meet you," Mozenrath spat, "but really, this is as far from nice as it can get."

"Do not worry," the man said as the door was shut, leaving him alone with Mozenrath. Under any other circumstance, Mozenrath thought, his companion would be a dead man. But Mozenrath was powerless and on the verge of death himself, bound by a strong elemental force. He cursed his situation mentally. The man went on: "You are safe here."

"I wasn't worried," Mozenrath growled. It was only somewhat of a lie.

"You will not be harmed here," the man continued. There was a flicker of light; a brilliant lantern illuminated into view, slowly traversing the perimeter of the metal ring. "You may feel as though the Dai Li see you as their enemy. The Dai Li are your friends. Long Feng is your trusted friend, and you are going to tell him who you are and why you are here."

Mozenrath bit his lip, shuddering. He then realized there was no reason to hide his laughter, and he let it out loudly. "I'd like to know what gave you THAT delusion," he managed through his guffaws.

"Long Feng is a trusted friend," the man repeated. "You are going to tell him who you are and why you are here. In fact, you are going to tell him everything he asks you to tell him."

"No," Mozenrath insisted, his eyes following the path of the lantern. What was the point of that light, anyhow? Was it supposed to intimidate him? Was it some form of torture that only worked on the citizens of this world? "I'm not."

"I see," the man said with a nod. "Give it some thought. Perhaps you shall change your mind."

"I'm not going to…" But, really, what was the point of that lantern? Mozenrath couldn't seem to draw his gaze away from it. "Change…my mind." He blinked, trying to regain his train of thought. He would have shaken his head, but it was bound in place with a stone band, forcing him to face forward. Round and round he watched the lantern go. "I'm not going to tell Long Feng a single word about…" About what? "About what I'm doing." There it was.

So bright, so lustrous, round and round.

"Long Feng is a trusted friend," the man at the center of the ring insisted.

"N…" Mozenrath couldn't finish the word. It was the lantern, he realized. It was distracting him. He needed to look away. He needed to shut his eyes.

But he couldn't.

"You will tell him who you are and why you are here."

Round and round.

"Long Feng is a trusted friend."

Flashes before his eyes, faster and faster.

"You will tell him who you are and why you are here."

Flash, flash, flash went the lantern.

"Long Feng is a trusted…"

Round and round, round and round, the only light among the darkness, the only thing Mozenrath could see, and with it, an affirmation repeated over and over.

It wasn't true.

But it was all Mozenrath could hear, outside of his own mind or within it, just as the light was all he could see. And as the light passed before his eyes, the words sounded ever more real.

Round and round.

Flash, flash.

Long Feng was a trusted friend.

Light against the darkness.

Round and round.

Mozenrath was going to tell Long Feng who he was and why he was there.

He barely noticed when the words the man was saying changed: "The Earth King has invited you to Lake Laogai."

...

Mozenrath barely needed to be escorted back to the holding cell where he had first been chained. He practically walked there of his own accord, wobbling on his skeletal legs. He was guided to the center of the room, where he knelt in order to keep his balance. There he waited, docile, as the other agents of the Dai Li filed out.

Long Feng returned, striding confidently into the room. He stood tall over Mozenrath, who smiled at the sight of his trusted friend.

"I see you have enjoyed your stay at Lake Laogai," Long Feng stated with a knowing smile.

"I have," Mozenrath repeated, his own smile naïve, honest, empty.

"What have you learned?" Long Feng asked.

"You, Long Feng, are a trusted friend," Mozenrath stated. "I'm going to tell you anything you ask of me."

"Good," Long Feng replied coolly. "Let us start with who you are."

"My name is Mozenrath," Mozenrath said calmly. "I am a sorcerer who hails from the Land of the Black Sands. I am a conqueror."

"A sorcerer, hmm?" Long Feng repeated. He wasn't sure what to make of the use of the term. No one in the four nations could actually honestly consider themselves a sorcerer. Yet Mozenrath's hypnosis had rendered him unable to tell anything but the truth. "What brings you, a sorcerer, to Ba Sing Se?"

"I am dying," Mozenrath answered. "My friends have brought me here to look for the Spirit Waters that will cure me."

The Spirit Waters, Long Feng thought. That would mean that Mozenrath's coterie was headed for the North Pole. A better diplomat might have thought to send word of warning to the Water Tribe, but Long Feng was only concerned with his own territory. What happened in the Water Tribe was outside of Long Feng's realm of relevance. And to that point, he asked next: "What do you plan to do in Ba Sing Se?"

"I had planned to leave it alone once we found the Spirit Waters," Mozenrath answered. "But now that I know it's here, I want to conquer it. I want to live in this palace. I want to be the next Earth King. That day is probably very far off, but it is something I want."

Long Feng couldn't have that. "I am afraid for that, you shall have to die," he said solemnly.

Mozenrath didn't make any sort of response. He simply awaited the next question.

Long Feng went for the one that now burned in his mind: "Who are these people you call 'friends'?"

All the while he asked his questions, he was unaware of the creeping presence slinking up behind him, slipping through the shadows, lithe and thin, sliding fluidly into the room with a graceful roll. As Long Feng asked this final question, he was suddenly taken off guard by the pair of limbs wrapping around his waist from behind, lifting him up off the stone floor. He didn't even register that it was the limber legs of someone standing on his hands, rather than a pair of arms, that had just encircled him. In a sharp second of surprise, Long Feng was grasped, lifted off the floor, pivoted over backward, and thrown down hard across the room.

Righting his position to standing on his feet, Ragdoll waved at Mozenrath. "Hellooooooo," he greeted. "You've certainly gotten yourself into a pickle this time, haven't you?"

"This isn't a pickle," Mozenrath said placidly. "It's a dungeon."

Long Feng peeled his face from the floor to get a better look at the entity that had just humiliated him and dealt him a good amount of pain. It wasn't that he cared at all about Ragdoll's identity. He just wanted to know where his target was. He slammed his fist on the ground so that sharp shards of earth would spring up beneath the interloper, impaling him.

Ragdoll leapt, pirouetting through the air the moment he felt the tremor. He landed gracefully in front of Long Feng with an arrogant bow.

Long Feng sprang to his feet, clapping his hands together. He brought two slabs of stone up from the floor, one to either side of Ragdoll, and with a flowing gesture, brought them careening to each other at high speed in order to smash Ragdoll flat in the middle. Ragdoll cartwheeled out of the way, letting the slabs shatter each other. Not to be outdone, Long Feng stomped the ground, breaking it into shards that hovered before him; he shoved those shards outward at Ragdoll. Ragdoll's body twisted in impossible ways, outmaneuvering every single fragment of earth, only suffering a few grazes.

As Long Feng continued to pursue Ragdoll in this fashion, the second member of the rescue party attempted to enter the room quietly. The sound of sandals slapping the stone did not go unnoticed; Long Feng spun to take his attention away from Ragdoll, sending a slab of stone zooming toward the new intruder.

There was the slam of impact: a great echoing CRACK.

"One down," Long Feng muttered.

He was chilled when a voice emanated from behind the slab: "Ooh, good shot! That would have been absolutely FATAL on a mortal!" Ayam Aghoul stepped around the slab, twisting his head back into place with another loud CRACK.

"Wh…" Long Feng stepped backward in disbelief, knowing he was looking at a dead man. "What ARE you?"

A tap on his shoulder reminded him that Ragdoll was still in the room; Long Feng spun to send more spikes of stone Ragdoll's way, only to be thwarted again by Ragdoll's athleticism.

Aghoul raced toward Mozenrath, looking over him for chains only to be surprised to find none. He knelt before Mozenrath, asking, "And is there any particular REASON you're not chained up?"

"I don't need to be chained up," Mozenrath replied with a blank smile. "Long Feng is my trusted friend. I don't want to leave him."

Then Aghoul saw Mozenrath's dilated pupils. He clicked his tongue in disapproval. "What a BASIC hypnosis." Sparks flew from his fingers as he snapped them in front of Mozenrath's face.

Mozenrath's pupils immediately retracted; he blinked to get a good read on his surroundings. "Aghoul?" he said in confusion.

"In the flesh," Aghoul replied with a sly grin. "Which I understand you're still not." He stood, quickly stepping behind Mozenrath and sweeping downward. "Don't read too much into this." He scooped Mozenrath up easily, one arm below Mozenrath's shoulders and the other under his knees. "I just figure this is more dignified than throwing you over my shoulder."

"I have one question," Mozenrath said.

"I have several," Aghoul retorted, "but what's yours?"

Mozenrath pointed to where Ragdoll was dancing out of reach of every blow Long Feng struck. "WHAT IS HE DOING HERE?"

"I think he wanted to get that reaction out of you, to be honest," Aghoul confessed. This was followed by a sharp whistle; "OH, RAGDOLL! WE'RE LEAVING!"

"On my way!" Ragdoll rolled into a wheel, pursuing Aghoul's flight from the holding cell with Mozenrath in arms.

"STOP THEM!" Long Feng cried as he raced after Mozenrath's rescue party.

Five Dai Li agents fell into step in the hallway down which Aghoul ran and Ragdoll rolled, putting their earthbending together to build a massive wall covered in sharp spines; this behemoth chased Aghoul, Mozenrath, and Ragdoll down the hallway, threatening to impale them, gaining on their flight.

"Any time now…" Aghoul muttered.

A thin projectile whistled through the air from in front of the racing rescue party. When it connected with the wall, the orange crystal set in the tip of the arrow detonated with a BOOM, reducing the wall to shards that crumbled to the floor.

Mozenrath turned his head to see Ravess standing before himself, Aghoul, and Ragdoll, waiting for them to catch up to her before loosing another arrow back at the Dai Li. It exploded in midair, knocking the agents back; Ravess lowered her weapon and fell into stride alongside Aghoul.

"Impressive rescue party so far," Mozenrath commented. "Who else can I expect?"

"This is it," Aghoul answered casually.

"This is it," Mozenrath repeated dryly. "You, Ragdoll, and Ravess. That's all."

"Well, Yzma and Zevon are taking a spa day," Aghoul explained, "Snatcher and Roman are on some heist on another world entirely, and these two were in the room next to me when I got your text! Did you want me to waste more time trying to round up anyone else?"

"Besides, I resent the implication that we aren't enough to get the job done," Ravess huffed.

They broke loose from the dungeons, Ravess' arrows clearing a path whenever they found it blocked. Their path took them up and out of the palace, off the grounds, and into the streets of Ba Sing Se.

"Where to?" Aghoul asked Mozenrath as he, Ravess, and Ragdoll entered a thick throng of civilians.

Mozenrath opened his mouth to answer.

Long Feng had refused to give up his pursuit. As Aghoul, Ravess, and Ragdoll had kept running, so had he. He cringed as they became lost among the crowd; he barreled into the square, hoping against hope. He had one last shot. If he couldn't kill Mozenrath, he could at least make Mozenrath not his problem anymore. "THE EARTH KING HAS INVITED YOU TO LAKE LAOGAI!" he shouted.

Mozenrath froze before he could utter a syllable; his pupils widened.

"LEAVE THIS CITY AND NEVER RETURN!" Long Feng screamed, barely audible to Mozenrath's ear – though "barely" was just enough. "GET AS FAR AWAY FROM BA SING SE AS YOU CAN!"

Aghoul was caught off guard when Mozenrath's knee slammed into his face and a bony elbow jammed into his stomach. He dropped Mozenrath, who scrambled upright, barely able to run but attempting it anyway. Mozenrath was consumed with a desire to follow the order that had been issued him, and he was going to accomplish the goal of abandoning Ba Sing Se, whether he had to run, walk, or crawl.

Long Feng's display had attracted the attention of several passers-by. "Are you all right?" someone asked him.

"I am fine," Long Feng said coolly. "There is absolutely nothing wrong."

Aghoul, Ravess, and the now-standing Ragdoll cast their eyes over the crowd, searching desperately for signs of Mozenrath, but there were none to be found.

"Tell me we didn't go through all of that just to LOSE him," Ravess groaned.

"Can we not simply call him?" Ragdoll asked, never losing his signature smile.

"He's under a hypnosis," Aghoul explained. "Those must have been his trigger words. If we call, he sure won't answer."

"So NOW what?" Ravess moaned. "Do we just search the entire WORLD at random until we stumble upon him? Or do we have to give him up for dead?"  
"Certainly there's a way out of this jam," Ragdoll mused. "What about that locator spell? The one that flies his personal belongings directly to him?"

"We don't HAVE anything of his!" Ravess reminded Ragdoll.

"That's where you're wrong," Aghoul realized. "We have something of his, all right. It's just not here."

...

"You wish to rent some equipment?" Jacques Brunais asked the woman standing before him.

Neo gave an enthusiastic nod.

"You realize the weather is not ideal for skiing, mademoiselle," Jacques reminded her.

Neo nodded again, conveying that she was well aware.

"You wish to be fitted and have your equipment set aside for later?"

A nod accompanied with a toothy smile.

She mustn't be able to speak, Jacques realized. "Have you ever skied before?"

Neo shook her head this time.

"Then we have much to discuss. Let us start with your shoe size."

Neo pointed to her feet and gave a shrug.

"You…do not know your own shoe size?"

Neo shook her head. She would take any route to drag this out while Roman opened the lockers.

"Easily fixed, mademoiselle. I can measure it here…"

Roman could hear their discussion as he gently popped open the first locker, careful to go slowly so the sound of the metal lock would not alert Jacques. A purse yielded him twenty dollars in cash and little more.

Three lockers down was something of more interest, but not of any value. A bag contained several forms of ID – licenses, passports, and so forth – all of which bore a picture of the same face. However, each identification document was labeled with a different name, and in many of the photographs, the woman had changed her hair.

So there's someone here with a past, Roman thought. Someone who really isn't who she says she is.

He continued down the line as he listened carefully to Jacques for any clue that he might be wrapping up with Neo. Cash and jewelry entered his pockets swiftly.

One locker door pried open to reveal much more than Roman had expected. The shelves bore wooden boxes and books; some papers were pinned to the door's interior. But propped upon the very top shelf was an object of intrigue: a golden disc, six inches across, with a blue gem at its center. Had Roman been outside with the Smisses, he would have recognized it as a sibling to their treasure. As it was, he only recognized it as valuable. He stuffed it quickly into his coat, realizing his pockets had filled up. As he quietly closed the locker door, he made note that it was actually labeled with a name; he'd gotten into the staff lockers without realizing it. And according to this locker's plaque, he had just robbed Jacques Brunais.

"And I believe that concludes all we can do for today," Jacques told Neo. Roman, recognizing his cue, backed off from the lockers.

Neo flashed Jacques a thumbs-up before peering into the locker room, waving to Roman to come forward. The pair stealthily slid into the twisting hallways of the basement level as Jacques turned back to cleaning the equipment he had shelved.

"Neo," Roman whispered as he brought the disc just far enough of hiding for a glimpse, "you are not going to believe what I found."

Neo's face lit up with joy as she beheld their new treasure.

...

Twin skimmers sailed over the Atmosian wastelands, careening past dry desert landscapes, pools of red-hot lava, and the stomping grounds of monstrous creatures. The tiny vehicles steered into a canyon, lowering to the ground and parking at what from above would appear to have been the fissure's end. In reality, on ground level, the mouth of a great cavern opened up, leading into blackness.

Riku slid off his skimmer, regarding the cavern with interest. "You ready?" he asked his companion.

Kairi stood next to him, nodding firmly. "Let's go."

Together, they entered the cave, treading carefully. Each had their right hand on the hilt of their drawn sword and their left hand extended outward, holding a small flame in the palm for light.

The path extended straight onward for quite some distance before forking into five different branches. "This could be a problem," Riku commented.

"Hang on." Kairi closed her eyes. "You remember what that man said about the Aurora Stone showing itself to someone with a heart of pure light, right?"

"Yes."

"I just have this weird feeling deep inside that I know which way we should go." She opened her eyes, using her sword to point at one of the tunnels. "And it's that way."

"Lead on."

Kairi and Riku forged through a veritable maze of dark tunnels. Every time the path forked, Kairi's instinct took the pair down a direction about which she had definitive feelings. All the while, it seemed they were heading deeper and deeper into the insides of some enormous beast that had swallowed them, and their destination was the stomach.

Suddenly, a glow, not caused by the flames they bore. "Look!" Kairi cried. The flames were doused, and Riku and Kairi rushed to kneel over the spot in the ground where the glow was nestled. It took the form of a spherical crystal, half embedded in the rock below. Kairi placed a hand on it, giving it an experimental tug. "It's buried."

Riku chipped at the surrounding stone with the edge of his blade, loosening it enough for the stone to pop free. Kairi lifted it, cradling it like glass. "You think this is it?" she wondered out loud.

"Your heart did lead you here," Riku reminded her. "That has to mean something."

A rustle; a scrape. More illumination, emanating softly from the sudden emergence of dozens of pairs of yellow eyes stacked atop each other. Riku and Kairi were suddenly reminded of the other half of the legend the man had told them.

"Heartless!" Riku cried.

He and Kairi immediately went back-to-back, blades pointed outward; Kairi dismissed the crystal to her magical storage. The Heartless squirmed, excited at the prospect of new prey.

Riku peered back over his shoulder. Kairi did the same, catching his eye. They nodded to each other.

Just as the Heartless closed in, they leapt, blades swinging.

...

As the Smisses explored the exterior of Wickford Castle and Roman and Neo hatched their plan to raid lockers, Snatcher wandered the halls, searching for an aim of his own. There had to be something he hadn't looked into yet that the others weren't covering, and he was going to find it.

His walk took him into the small reading lounge set off from the lobby, where he came across the sight of a young woman, dark hair cut close to her head, clothed in a bright red shirt and black pants, flipping through one of the books from the shelf. Perhaps that was the angle he had yet to pursue, Snatcher thought: interrogating the locals. Surely someone here had to know something he didn't.

He smoothed out his skirt as he took the adjacent seat to the woman. "A pity the library is closed down," he began, keeping his voice high, his accent strong. "These books make for such dry reading."

"I know!" the woman said indignantly as she put the book back on the shelf. "There's nothing in them I don't already know about this place."

"You must be quite well-read, then," Snatcher complimented.

"I'm a photojournalist," the woman replied. "Weird old mansions are kind of my thing. And this one is one of the weirdest."

"Oh?" Snatcher asked. "How so?"

"Well, you know about the tower that was imported all the way from France, right?"

"I am afraid I am unaware of this little fact."

"So you know how when you first drive up to the hotel," the woman explained, "one of the towers looks different? It was actually built in France, and it's way older than the rest of the building. Rumor has it that tower is actually connected to Marie Antoinette."

A name Snatcher didn't know, but he wasn't about to betray that. "Come to think of it," he mused, "I do know the tower of which you speak. I noticed it upon our arrival. My traveling company and I were slightly distracted by the inclement weather. Oh, how my darling Torchwick was inconvenienced! But now I recall the sight. Though I do not recall having entered it from the inside."

"That's the weird part," the woman said. "You can't get INTO the tower from inside. Or outside. Why ship it all the way from France if you weren't going to make it part of the building? That seems super suspicious to me. Though I wouldn't put anything past crazy old Ezra Wickford. You know, the guy who built this place. He shut himself away for, like, fifty years."

"Did he, now?"

"Yeah. It was nuts."

"It seems this building has a far more fascinating history than I first thought," Snatcher commented. He briefly wondered if the tower had anything to do with the strange door Roman and Rémington had mentioned finding in the bottom of the elevator shaft. A hidden entrance, perhaps? "Oh, my dear, how rude I have been! I haven't once asked your name."

"It's Lisa," the woman introduced, leaning over her arm rest to extend her right hand to Snatcher. "Lisa Ostrum."

"A pleasure, Miss Ostrum!" Snatcher grasped her hand, shaking it firmly. "Or is it Mrs.?"

"Oh, I'm not married," Lisa practically laughed.

"I am surprised. You seem such a lovely and charming young lady. I would think suitors would be clamoring for your hand!"

Lisa chuckled. "What about you? What's your story? And who did you all come here with?"

"My name is Penelope Frou Frou," Snatcher lied smoothly as he let go of Lisa's hand. "My significant other and three of our close friends came here for a little rest and relaxation. We did not expect the heavy snowfalls to dampen our plans so. Luckily, we have found entertainment enough inside the building."

"Doing what?" Lisa asked. "It's dead boring here without access to the library. Can you even believe that? Dexter totally thinks one of US vandalized it! Us guests, I mean."

"Oh?" Snatcher replied. "And what do you believe?"

"I don't know," Lisa said all too coyly. "If somebody wanted to destroy the library, that must mean they were looking for something important in there. I wish I could go check it out for myself. It would make a great addition to the piece I'm writing on this place, but Dexter keeps warning me not to make a spectacle out of his hotel. I just think some intrigue would spice it up!"

"Truly a pity," Snatcher said with mock sympathy.

"This whole place just seems like a mystery waiting to be solved," Lisa admitted. "The French tower nobody can get in, the eccentric founder, the library vandalism…what are they hiding here that they don't want us to see?"

Snatcher decided to test the waters. "Perhaps something to do with Monseiur Egan's ill reputation."

"Ill reputation?" Lisa repeated. "Oh, yeah, the bad checks! Trust me, I did my homework on the guy. Hey, you know what would be really weird?"

Snatcher took a stab at reading her mind. "If he believed there were something of value in the library," he whispered, "and ransacked it of his own accord in order to search for it before covering up his crime by blaming a wayward guest?"

"Get out!" Lisa smacked Snatcher's upper arm. "That's exactly what I thought! That guy's definitely hiding something."

"Perhaps," Snatcher suggested in a low voice, "he seeks recompense for the inheritance he was denied."

"Inheritance?" Lisa repeated.

"My sources tell me he was set to inherit the castle," Snatcher whispered, "but it was denied him."

He had his reasons for disclosing. Lisa was obviously interested in the secrets of the castle. If she were holding any cards, Snatcher wanted to lay down a few of his own to encourage her to play.

"No way!" Lisa hissed. "That would have to make him crazy Ezra's son or something! How did you even know that?"

"You have been doing your investigations into this castle's secrets," Snatcher told her, "and I have been doing mine."

Lisa gasped. "Did you actually find a way to get into the library?"

"Why, Miss Ostrum!" Snatcher placed a hand over his heart. "That would be breaking and entering! I am far above such base crimes!"

"That wasn't a 'no,'" Lisa realized.

Snatcher winked.

"Something's going on here," Lisa stated, "and you're in on it."

"Something was going on here well before I arrived," Snatcher told her, "and I wish to become involved."

"Me too!" Lisa said with a nod. "I've been digging ever since I showed up!"

"Digging, hm?" Snatcher repeated. "Not in the library, perchance?"

"You think I was the one who broke in and messed everything up?" Lisa asked, suddenly perturbed. "No way! The investigations I've been doing are perfectly legal!"

"Such as?"

"Well…" Lisa weighed her options. "I did actually find something. But I'm not quite sure what to make of it. Hey, maybe you'll know what it is! Can you help me?"

"I would be honored to do my very best," Snatcher told her.

"Okay," Lisa said as she rose from her seat. "It's weird, Penelope."

Snatcher bristled at her use of his false first name. He had become accustomed to people delegating to "Frou Frou."

"I already feel like we have some kind of…castle-investigating bond," Lisa went on as Snatcher rose. "I think we're gonna be good friends."

"The feeling is mutual," Snatcher responded, though it really wasn't.

Lisa led Snatcher upstairs to her room on the first floor. "I'll just need a minute." She disappeared into the room. When she re-opened the door, she poked her head around it, asking, "Okay, are you ready to see what I found?"

"My dear, I am positively dying with curiosity!" That sentiment was hardly a lie.

Lisa stepped around the door and into the hall, holding out an object that made Snatcher's eyes widen. It was a golden disc, six inches wide, with a green jewel inset at its center.

"I found this when I was investigating," Lisa explained. "Don't worry. It was hidden in some kind of secret alcove. It doesn't belong to anyone. But I have no idea what it is or what it's supposed to be for."

"Puzzling indeed," Snatcher remarked. "It appears quite valuable."

"It does, doesn't it?" Lisa agreed. "At least, it LOOKS like gold and an emerald. It's probably just brass with green glass in it. I'm seriously stumped."

"I will take it into consideration as I continue my search," Snatcher told her, hoping against hope.

"Hey!" Lisa suggested. "You already got way farther than I did in just a couple days. You can probably figure out what it's for a lot sooner than I can. Why don't you hang onto it?"

Exactly as Snatcher had hoped. "Oh, I couldn't dream of doing such a thing," he replied. "It is your hard-won prize!"

"Come on," Lisa urged. "Think of it as a gesture of friendship. It means I trust you. You just have to promise me one thing."

"And what is that?"

"If you figure out any more dirt, you'll share it with me right away."

"Two heads are better than one," Snatcher affirmed. "Perhaps between the two of us, we can crack the codes of this strange old manor." He reached out, taking the disc into hand. "To friendship."

"To friendship!" Lisa agreed.

Not a few minutes later, Snatcher hurried back to his room. As he closed the door behind him, he became aware that he was not alone. Not only Roman was waiting for him, but Rémington, Grany, and Neo had also gathered.

"Hey, Archie!" Roman greeted, holding up the disc with the blue stone. "You're not going to BELIEVE what we found!"

"The plot thickens," Rémington said as he displayed the disc bearing the red stone.

"Indeed," Snatcher agreed in his natural timbre as he held out the green-stone disc. "It does."

...

"Maybe I'm a hypocrite," Ruby sighed as she, Sora, Papyrus, Jasmine, Stork, Zuko, Katara, and Aang strolled the Royal Plaza. The sun had gone down long ago, and the group was taking in the sight of the city by night, lit by innumerable flames.

"How?" Katara asked.

"Because I got so mad at Sora for abandoning his family," Ruby moaned, "but I did the same thing to my dad and my sister. I just took off to go try and take care of the bad guys on my own. I thought leaving a silly letter would make up for it, but that probably wasn't good enough. And now I'm not even tracking the same bad guys I left home to follow."

"Well, maybe we just need to stop by your house in Remnant sometime soon," Sora suggested. "You could check up on your family!"

Ruby shook her head. "I left them for a reason," she insisted, "and I'm not finished with that reason. I just feel like it's too late to turn back now."

"What was the reason in the first place?" Katara asked.

"Looking for Cinder Fall," Ruby explained. "The person who put together the destruction of my school. The reason my friends and I got so split up."

"But you all look like you're getting along fine now," Aang pointed out.

"Well, these are my good friends, all right," Ruby sighed, "but they're not my oldest friends. I was part of a team back in school, and we were almost inseparable until the incident. Now Blake doesn't want to see me, Weiss's dad wouldn't LET her see me, and…I'm sure my sister is fine, but she just lost so much. She wasn't the same."

"I can't imagine how I'd feel if that happened with me and my friends," Aang said morosely. "I mean, sure, some of us are separated by distance right now, but we're close in other ways. I'm sorry that happened to you and your team."

"I don't know," Katara suggested. "If you were really that close, maybe you'll find a way to get back together and patch things up."

"That's what I think!" Sora asserted.

"You're right," Ruby said with a smile.

"Would it be helpful if we stopped chasing Mozenrath and started looking for Cinder once we're done here?" Jasmine asked. "After all, there is a chance we'll be able to stop Mozenrath on this world and move on to other things."

"Would that be okay with everyone?" Ruby asked.

"IT IS ONLY OUR DUTY TO HELP OUR SWORN FRIEND ON HER QUEST TO FIND HER ARCHNEMESIS!" Papyrus said confidently.

"Well, I don't know if she's my archnemesis," Ruby muttered.

"Eh, it's either chasing our own doom one way or chasing our own doom another way," Stork said with a shrug.

"Let's do it!" Sora asserted.

"Well, if you need to change gears," Katara stated, "then we'll have to be sure to stop this Mozenrath right here and right now."

"I know we can do it!" Aang chirped.

"It sounds like it's what needs to be done for our own safety anyway," Zuko pointed out. "What affects you affects us. This is all tied together now."

"Fire Lord Zuko!" A messenger clad in red bolted across the plaza. "FIRE LORD ZUKO!"

"What is it?" Zuko asked with concern once he noted the messenger's panic.

Slowing in front of Zuko, bending over to catch his breath, the messenger relayed, "There's been a break-in at the prison. Most of the guards on duty were killed, and your father is gone."

...

It was immediately agreed upon that the Fire Nation prison break warranted investigation; Zuko found himself accompanied by Aang, Katara, Sora, Ruby, Stork, Jasmine, and Papyrus as he investigated the site of the incident. This turned out to be somewhat regrettable, as the corpses of the fallen guards had not yet been cleaned up, and this made Papyrus uncomfortable to a great degree; he ended up distancing his visual focus from them as Katara and Jasmine led him through by the hands. Stork waffled between wanting to vomit at the sight and being strangely intrigued by some of the more mangled corpses' methods of death.

"You think this was Mozenrath?" Sora asked Jasmine.

"I don't know," Jasmine admitted. "I've seen him attempt to do things like this, but he's never gotten this far. Remember, Maleficent apparently also has agents here."

"And she's definitely gotten this far before," Sora realized. "It could be either of them."

They stopped before the cell that had belonged to Ozai, where a pair of freshly stationed and obviously shaken guards awaited. "Fire Lord Zuko," one of them greeted. "You're obviously aware of the damage."

"I am," Zuko replied. "And I think…no. I know this was all done to get to my father. This kind of slaughter is something he'd endorse. Did anyone witness the breakout? Did anyone hear or see anything that might clue us in to where he was taken?"

"No, my lord," the other guard said. "Every guard on this level either escaped or…didn't. There were no witnesses."

But then, from a little ways down the hall, an interruption: "Not among the guards, anyway. But did anyone think to ask the other prisoners?"

Immediately, Katara spat, "What is SHE doing here?"

"I don't know," Zuko grumbled. "She isn't supposed to be here."

"Who is she?" Sora asked, curious.

"My sister," Zuko growled.

"What's the matter, Zuzu?" the female voice persisted. "Aren't you happy to see your sister again?"

"I'm guessing there's a reason you didn't bring her up earlier when we were talking about family," Stork said gingerly.

"Maybe we should see what she knows," Ruby suggested.

"She'll lie," Zuko insisted. "She's always been a good liar."

"But it's the only lead we have," Ruby insisted. "And…she's your SISTER."

"Maybe you got lucky, having a sister who loved you and wanted to be your friend," Zuko told Ruby. "I'm glad that was your life. But it wasn't mine."

"She's right, though," Katara pointed out. "Not about her being your sister, but about her being the only lead we have."

Zuko said nothing, but he nodded, knowing full well he'd been backed into a corner. He marched toward the cell from which the voice had come, his new friends in tow.

A teenage girl with long, dark hair and a coy smirk leaned against the wall of the cell, watching Zuko's approach through the bars. "Now that's more like it," she said coolly.

"Azula," Zuko greeted stiffly as he neared her. "I thought you were being rehabilitated in a mental institution."

"Oh, I was," Azula confirmed. "But my health improved drastically as of late, and I was proclaimed cured. They still believed I was too dangerous to let walk free, however, on account of things that they insist upon referring to as 'war crimes.' So I was transferred here."

"Why doesn't your story make sense to me?" Zuko countered.

"How else could I have gotten here?" Azula retorted. "Once you can explain it yourself, you have every right to question me."

"It is true," a guard piped up. "The doctors at the institution signed her over to us, citing a drastic improvement in her mental state."

Something still didn't quite ring true to Zuko, but he had no clue what to call out. "All right," he commanded. "Tell us what you saw."

"You think I'm going to give you something for nothing?" Azula gave a short laugh. "It's like you've completely forgotten who I am, Zuzu."

"What do you want?" Zuko asked sharply.

"As you can see, I'm perfectly mentally stable," Azula presented as her case. "As for the things I said and did during my stint as acting Fire Lord, I promise not to do them again. I'm a good girl now, Zuko. It just isn't fair that I should still be locked up here. I could tell you everything I saw and heard if you would order your guards to unlock my cell door and let me walk free into the capital with all crimes forgiven."

"You can't think I'm going to do that," Zuko growled. "I'm not setting you on the Fire Nation people just so you can lie to me."

"Fine," Azula huffed. "Don't let me out. Then I won't tell you anything about the plan I overheard our father discussing with the people who broke him out. You'll just have to find out the hard way when he comes for you. Which he will."

"Uhhhmm, Zuko?" Stork piped up. "I think she knows something about your dad. I wouldn't ignore her if I were you."

"What do you want me to do?" Zuko cried. "Let her out?"

"Well, what's the worst she did?" Ruby wondered.

"People have died at her command!" Zuko insisted. "She even turned on her own best friends!"

"No, they turned on me!" Azula snapped. "They were too foolish to know what they were dealing with!"

"They knew exactly what they were dealing with," Zuko growled. "You hurt and controlled Ty Lee and Mai from the very beginning. That's why they 'betrayed' you."

"Water under the bridge," Azula said coolly. "I completely fail to see how it's relevant to here and now. I have information you need, and you have the key I need. What could possibly be so complicated about that?"

"MAYBE SHE DESERVES A SECOND CHANCE," Papyrus suggested. "SHE DID PROMISE SHE WOULDN'T DO ANYTHING BAD AGAIN!"

"Didn't you hear what I said about her being a liar?" Zuko said incredulously.

"BUT HOW WILL YOU KNOW IF SHE CAN DO BETTER IF YOU NEVER LET HER TRY?" Papyrus asked.

"That's a strange-looking friend you have," Azula observed. "All the same, he has a point. I really have put my days of murder and domination behind me, Zuzu. But you keep refusing me the chance to prove myself."

"If you really meant to leave your old ways behind," Zuko insisted, "you'd tell us what happened to our father without making me bow to your demands first!"

"You're just wasting time," Azula reminded him. "And the more time you waste, the closer our father gets to his goal. Do you really want to find out what it is by running out of time?"

Zuko sighed, turning his back to Azula. "I don't know," he admitted to his friends. "I don't feel like letting her out would be safe for anyone, even her. But she really is our only lead."

"Papyrus made a good point," Aang observed. "She's acting pretty suspicious now, but if we let her out, maybe she could have a chance to change."

"We need to get that information somehow," Katara emphasized, "and there's really no other way to do it."

"No humane way, anyway," Stork brought up.

"What if you put her under supervision?" Jasmine suggested. "Let her leave, but have her watched."

"There really isn't a way to win here," Stork added. "It looks like you just have to pick whichever way of losing won't be worse. Get surprised by your dad, or get backstabbed by your sister?"

"And if the information she gives us isn't even real?" Zuko asked.

"Like I said, there's no way to win here," Stork reiterated.

Zuko closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before letting it out. "She's terrible," he said at last, "but nowhere near as terrible as our father."

"That really isn't flattering, Zuzu," Azula said snidely.

Zuko turned back to her. "Give up the information," he commanded, "and we'll put you on parole. You'll be free, but you'll be watched by some of our strongest benders."

"Such distrust," Azula huffed. "But fine. I can see that's the only way we're going to get anywhere. Unlock the door, and I'll start talking."

"I don't like this," Stork muttered.

Sora's Keyblade glittered into his hand. "If you try anything," he warned Azula, "we'll be ready."

"What a silly toy," Azula remarked. "I don't see how a giant key is supposed to make me afraid. But take whatever precautions you must."

Ruby fumbled with the case on her back, bringing out Crescent Rose. "If a giant key doesn't convince you," she posed, "what about this?"

"A gardening tool?" Azula sniffed. "HA! HAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh, Zuzu, your friends really are too entertaining!"

A guard handed the keys to Azula's cell to Zuko. As he unlocked the door, everyone tensed, ready for battle.

"You can calm down," Azula said casually. She moved forward; everyone stepped back to admit her into the hallway. "You made good on your end of the bargain," she stated, "so I'll make good on mine. At what I would estimate to be rougly sundown, seven people fought their way to this level of the prison, killing everyone in their sights. As they stopped outside of our father's cell, they were just within view from mine. Their spokesperson was tall and thin, with dark skin and a top hat and cane. Among their number was one I recognized, but you're probably about to accuse me of lying when I say they were accompanied by Admiral Zhao."

"He's dead," Zuko said flatly.

"That really hasn't stopped any of our enemies before," Stork pointed out.

"The other five, along with Zhao, were responsible for most of the killing," Azula continued. "There were two women with red hair, one taller than the other. There was a short woman with hair of a striking violet color; I would describe her as heavyset. A taller man with long, blond hair bore a disproportionately large blue shield. Finally, someone I assume to be male with a thick build had his face hidden beneath a helmet that resembled a dragon skull."

"Those are all people who work for Mozenrath!" Sora realized. "We saw one of the women with red hair, and Kairi saw the other on the Balmera! The blond guy has to be Vexen. And we know all about the one with the purple hair and the guy with the skull helmet. Mozenrath has to be working with Zhao and this new guy!"

"Not necessarily," Azula brought up. "Zhao betrayed an important little secret. The spokesperson had somehow trapped the souls of the five warriors inside rings I presume he wore on his hand, and he used that to command them. I highly doubt this alliance was formed of free will."

"Maybe the spokesperson and Zhao are working for Maleficent," Jasmine worked out. "Maleficent must be interested in Zhao, and she found a way to get Mozenrath's people to work for hers by force."

"But where's Mozenrath?" Ruby asked. "He didn't fit any of those descriptions."

"I don't know where your little friend is," Azula huffed. "I only know who I saw and what I heard. And you're going to want to pay careful attention to this next part. The spokesperson promised our father he would once again sit upon the throne by tomorrow night. My guess is he is going to attempt to invade…if he isn't already situated within our walls. When I said time was running out, I meant it."

"We have to prepare the defenses," Zuko realized. "Fortify the walls. Patrol the streets. Search everywhere for these warriors!"

"Is that everything?" Katara asked Azula.

"That is everything," Azula confirmed.

"But how can someone's soul be tied to a ring?" Aang wondered out loud.

"You've seen the magic we use," Sora reminded him. "Our enemies use magic too. Doing something like that is probably easy for them."

"They shouldn't be forced to do things like that against their will," Aang insisted. "How do we know they even wanted to kill so many people?"

"Trust me," Stork said dryly. "They did. We've been dealing with them for long enough to know that they did."

"But even if they are murderers," Aang brought up, "they were being forced to do it by someone else. They're slaves to the person who holds those rings. And that isn't fair."

"That isn't FAIR?" Stork repeated. He rolled his eyes, turning to Sora and pointing at Papyrus. "I have just gotten used to having ONE of him."

"HEY!" Papyrus barked.

"Well," Sora mused, "normally, I'd say they had it coming, but it sounds like them being trapped by Maleficent's new friend is bad for both them and us. Maybe Aang has a point."

"We can talk about whether or not it's fair for murderers to not get to pick their own murders later," Zuko insisted, turning on a heel. "Right now, we have to make sure this city is protected." He stopped momentarily next to the awaiting guards. "Escort Azula out. Find her a proper set of powerful chaperones. Don't let her do anything out of sight."

"Yes, my lord," the guards chorused.

Aang, Katara, Jasmine, Papyrus, Stork, and Sora hurried after Zuko. Only Ruby hesitated, dragging the toe of her shoe nervously over the floor as she looked Azula directly in the eye. "Thank you," she said nervously. "For letting us know what you did."

"No," Azula replied. "It's you and Zuzu I should thank, really." Her tone was still quite snide, but Ruby felt as though something in its foundation was sincere.

Ruby turned and hurried to catch up with the group; Katara and Jasmine took Papyrus' hands once more so he could watch the ceiling on his path through the littered corpses and blood.

"If they're bringing a fight to the Fire Nation," Sora insisted, "then we'll give 'em a fight! Together!"

...

Moana, Luna, Jaune, and Nora found that other Terras besides Atmosia were in need of attention that they could spare. Terra Nord radioed Atmosia asking for any food and medical supplies that could be spared. Moana, Luna, Jaune, and Nora volunteered to bring a few meals and kits to the frozen landscape of Terra Nord, and so they set out in a perpendicular direction to the path Riku and Kairi had taken. While Jaune and Nora tested their skills piloting skimmers, Luna let Moana ride on her back for the journey.

"The skimmer's really not that hard," Nora insisted as they sped through the sky. "You should give it a try! I can show you the controls!"

"I am happy to carry you on the way back," Luna affirmed.

"All right," Moana agreed. "We'll switch on the ride back. It can't be that much harder than learning to sail a boat, can it?"

They landed and split up. Moana and Luna brought first aid kits to Terra Nord's medical facility while Jaune and Nora carried the meal packages they'd brought to the governmental house.

"It's so cold," Moana complained with a shiver as she and Luna trudged back through the snow after making the delivery. "I didn't know it could GET this cold."

"We will depart for Terra Atmosia soon," Luna reassured her. "Though I would imagine that to you, even that climate would seem cool."

"Yeah," Moana confirmed. A blast of cold wind dusted her hair with snow.

On the other end of the Terra, Nora nudged Jaune. "Wanna make a Winter Maiden quick before we gotta go back?" The term, originating from the fairy tale about the four maidens that Nora and Jaune had recently learned were real, had become a colloquialism for using one's body to create the image of a figure wearing an elaborate dress in the snow.

"I'm not really in the mood," Jaune told her. "The snow would just get everywhere and – "

"Your loss!" Nora flopped down into a snowbank, waving her arms and legs to make the semblance of sleeves and a skirt. "Though I bet you would have said yes if KAIRI asked."

"I – wha – what?" Jaune was caught off guard.

"Oh, come on," Nora insisted. "Like it isn't obvious. You totally have a thing for her."

"There's…something, I'll admit," Jaune confessed.

"So why don't you just let her know?" Nora asked. "It's pretty obvious she likes you too."

"It…it is?" Jaune replied. "I mean, I'd been getting vibes, but I didn't know if I was onto something or I was reading too much into her just being friendly. I mean, above anything else, we are friends. As for why I don't bring it up…the timing's never right."

"Are you still thinking about…"

"Pyrrha. Yes."

Nora brought her limbs to a halt. "I miss her too," she sighed as she lay in the snow, letting the cold permeate her skin. "But you know she'd want us both to move on."

"I know," Jaune sighed. "And to tell you the truth, it's been bothering me less and less the more time passes. But it still just…doesn't feel like the right time to tell Kairi how I feel."

"Well, when will it be the right time?"

"Right now, I'm counting on knowing it when it happens," Jaune admitted.

Voices became barely audible to him, drifting through the snow. "Luna and Moana are coming back," he announced.

As Nora peeled herself out of the snow, she got an earful of what was being said.

"I just don't get why he and Ren are friends with her," Moana's voice carried across the snow. "She's so…weird."

"There is no accounting for taste when it comes to Jaune or Ren," Luna's voice replied. "One is a coward and a failure. The other is far too quiet."

"HEY!" Nora cried.

"Where do they get off thinking they can say things like that about us?" Jaune cried, offended. "I thought we were all friends!"

He and Nora broke into a run.

Moana shivered, running her hands up and down over her arms. "Remind me not to volunteer for any more missions where snow is involved," she said through chattering teeth.

"I shall commit it to memory," Luna resolved.

"Wait," Moana asked. "Do you hear that?"

"…Don't think we can trust her," Jaune's voice said from up ahead. "I don't buy that she's over her whole Nightmare Moon phase for a second."

"At least she's actually competent," Nora's voice chimed in. "Being the princess of the moon is SOMETHING. What even is Moana? She just kinda talked herself into this whole chosen one thing."

"HEY!" Moana screamed.

"They…do not trust me?" Luna was taken aback.

Moana stormed forward at a faster pace. Luna followed, attempting to appear confident in her strides, but truly shaken.

Both pairs came into view of one another. "WHAT did you just say about me?" Moana yelled at Nora.

"What did I say about YOU?" Nora snapped. "What did YOU say about ME?"

"What DID I say about you?" Moana asked. "You're the one who said I talked myself into thinking I was special!"

"I never said that!" Nora yelled. "If I said anything about you, it's that I'm offended that you called me weird!"

"Yeah, well, 'weird' is a step above 'coward and failure,'" Jaune said with a pointed glare toward Luna.

"You believe I called you those names," Luna stated.

"Uh, yeah, you did," Jaune accused. "I heard you loud and clear."

"Just as I believe I heard you state that you did not truly believe I had left Nightmare Moon behind," Luna went on.

"I did NOT say that," Jaune defended.

"What is going on here?" Moana asked. "Why do we all think we insulted each other?"

"Because you DID!" Nora snapped. "Explain how else I heard exactly your voices saying that stuff about us! And Ren, too!"

"Well, I heard your voices," Moana grunted. "And I KNOW Luna and I never said those things about you."

"Something odd is happening here," Luna observed. "I am not so sure what any of us heard was as it seems."

"Well, I got bullied enough at Beacon," Jaune huffed. "I don't need any more abuse from my so-called friends."

"And you can FORGET me showing you how to use the skimmer," Nora snapped at Moana.

"Fine!" Moana retorted. "I don't want you to show me anyway!"

"Please!" Luna insisted. "There is no reason for you to fight! Something else is interfering with our communication!"

"Like WHAT?" Moana, Nora, and Jaune snapped at Luna.

"I…I do not know," Luna admitted. "But it cannot be so simple as all four of us deciding to insult each other and denying it to each other's faces."

"Well, until you come up with a better explanation, I'm sticking with you," Moana told Luna. "I don't need to be around people who make me feel bad and then pretend it was MY fault."

"That's what YOU just did to US!" Jaune groaned.

"Talk about toxic," Nora added.

Jaune and Nora turned to storm toward their skimmers. Moana frustratedly kicked and stomped at the snow, letting them get a good distance ahead before telling Luna, "Okay, let's GO!"

"All right," Luna replied, crouching so Moana could climb aboard her back. All the while, her mind raced; what sort of form could an outside force take that could make it seem as though good friends insulted each other?

...

Turning up the three medallions had seemed a good bit of progress, so instead of ordering room service, Snatcher, Roman, Neo, and the Smisses took a shuttle bus down into the nearest town to find a diner at which to treat themselves to a celebratory dinner.

"To us!" Snatcher raised a champagne flute in which the bubbles delicately rose. "The most clever of rogues, if I may borrow the title of the brothers Smisse."

"To us!" Roman agreed, lifting a glass of beer in return before downing it.

"Hey, you'll want to stay at least sort of sober," Rémington grunted. "If we're going to break into that door later, I'm not having you wander into a death trap because you were tipsy."

"You DO care!" Roman mocked, placing both hands over his heart.

"Pure loyalty among rogues, I assure you," Rémington huffed.

"Which reminds me," Snatcher brought up, "I may have learned where your door leads. My conversation with Miss Ostrum took a turn toward the tower that does not match the rest of the hotel's façade. It is apparently French in origin, and all but inaccessible."

"So the guy who built the place stuck a giant obvious tower out front that you can't get into?" Grany reiterated. "You were right. That's hiding something."

"Of course, I have reason to believe your hidden door provides an entryway," Snatcher concluded.

"That does it," Roman decided. "We're getting into that door tonight. And if it ends up leading nowhere, well, at least we have those medallion things. Those should fetch a good price."

"We don't even know what they're for," Grany pointed out.

"What makes you think they're FOR something?" Roman asked. "They're bling."

"You think someone would just put three jewels in the middle of discs like that and not have it be FOR something?" Grany retorted.

"If they are jewels," Snatcher pointed out. "Miss Ostrum suggested the possibility that they are merely glass."

"I know glass when I see it," Rémington argued. "They're not glass. They're the real deal."

Neo gestured that she wanted to bring the topic back to the tower and the door.

"What about it?" Roman asked her.

She pointed to herself, then to Roman and Rémington.

"You wanna come with!" Roman realized. "I don't see why not. I'd actually prefer all five of us be in on this, but…how to put this without being rude…"

Neo formed a square in the air the size of the ventilation shaft, then slid both hands over her waist.

"Yeah, that," Roman agreed. "You're the only one. Same thing if we use the elevator panel. Anyway, we'll need SOMEONE to hold the elevator on EXACTLY the first floor this time around. Second floor, the weights are in the way of the door. Basement, there's a whole elevator in the way."

"I'm certain Mr. Smisse and I can manage the chaperoning of a simple elevator," Snatcher stated.

"Sounds boring," Grany groaned. "How about you keep the elevator in place and I catch up on my reading? We have a whole library open to us, after all."

"Have you no sense of responsibility?" Snatcher growled. "What happened to loyalty among rogues?"

"But you're going to be right there to do it," Grany argued.

Snatcher simply rolled his eyes and let the subject drop.

"Keep your scroll on you," Roman told Snatcher. "If we find anything, I'm sending you pics."

"Most certainly," Snatcher said with a nod.

Neo suddenly squirmed and bounced excitedly, drawing circles in the air.

"The medallion things?" Roman asked.

Neo nodded.

"We should take them with us!" Roman realized. "If they ARE for something, it might be in that tower!"

Neo clapped.

"Our plan is set," Snatcher affirmed. "Once we return to Wickford Castle, we shall investigate this hidden door straightaway. But first, let us take time to enjoy our well-deserved meal."

As if on cue, the waiter showed up, setting hearty plates before each of the five, and discussion halted as they tore into their food.

The sun had disappeared below the horizon as the five caught the next shuttle up to Wickford Castle. They laughed and chatted as they made their way back to their stretch of rooms. Snatcher inserted his key card into the door to his and Roman's place of rest, swinging the door wide.

The five fell completely silent once they beheld the sight of the ransacked room: the bedcovers rumpled, the drawers pulled out, the chairs knocked aside.

Roman broke the silence: "What…the…FUCK?"

Snatcher immediately rushed for the drawer where he had placed all three medallions for safekeeping. While everything else seemed to be present, albeit shoved out of place, the discs had disappeared. He punched the dresser in frustration.

"Don't tell me," Rémington groaned.

"We've been robbed," Snatcher informed the others as he stood to full height. "Our hard-earned medallions have been purloined. And whoever has done this…" He slipped into his natural timbre. "Has made a powerful enemy."

...

Facilier, Ozai, Zhao, and their five captives killed the following day out in the wilderness, with Zhao departing to hunt for game at every mealtime and returning with meat to roast by his own hand. Facilier spoke to Ozai of life with Maleficent and what he could expect if he succeeded at his venture. Vexen, the Huntsman, Wuya, Mim, and Xayide were still not allowed to converse, forced to listen in from the sidelines as the other three spoke. Hardly a moment went by that the Huntsman was not occupied by thoughts of Mozenrath: had he found help? Had he been taken to the Spirit Waters? Was he still lying in the bed in the hotel in Ba Sing Se? Or had he already wasted away to nothing?

"I have one question," Vexen said suddenly in the late afternoon.

"I'll bite," Facilier responded. "Go on."

"Why come all the way out here to invade from the outside?" Vexen asked gruffly. "Would it not have been far easier to stake out a hiding place within the walls of the capital while we were there? The defenses of the city are nigh impossible to overtake. If we show up at their door with an army of Heartless, we shall surely be gunned down within moments. Had we slipped into the capital and stayed there, we would have stealth on our side."

"I must admit, this strategy was born of a somewhat selfish desire on my part," Facilier confessed. "We could have invaded from within, and it would have been much easier. But then the Fire Nation would have every excuse for why they couldn't stop us. Now, if we turn up outside an almost impenetrable city and break its defenses like a glass window with a rock thrown up against it, then they'll know exactly what they're dealin' with. You say we'll be gunned down. I have good reason to think otherwise. And li'l Zuko will have the honor of sayin' he tried everything to stop us, but we were just too powerful. Ain't nobody gonna try messin' with Ozai after that."

"I see your point," Vexen affirmed. "And it is borne of great arrogance."

"Is it really arrogance if I know it's gonna work for a fact?"

The subject was dropped.

As the sun began to drop in the sky, Facilier summoned a Soldier Heartless to his side. "Run along ahead," he commanded the small creature. "Tell me if they're expectin' company."

The Soldier turned and sprinted away, its tiny armor clanking.

"You can summon Emblem Heartless as well as Purebloods," Vexen remarked, somewhat stunned.

"All Heartless lurk in the same Darkness," Facilier told him. "I just call 'em out from their hidin' place."

The Soldier returned after some time; Facilier leaned down to get within listening range. Though the Soldier said no audible words, Facilier understood the Heartless nonetheless. He straightened up and made his announcement to the others: "They know somethin'. The defenses have been increased. Tanks out front, soldiers linin' the city edges, ships patrollin' the harbor." His grin nearly reached from ear to ear. "I was hopin' they'd catch on. I got just one question for all of them out there in that city."

He turned in the direction that he would soon march: "Are ya ready?"


	50. Red Like Embers

50\. Red Like Embers

Clad only in fluffy towels wrapped around their waists, Xander Bly and Lie Ren made their way into the Kuzco Paradise Spa and Salon's sauna.

"I'm not used to being this exposed," Ren admitted.

"It'll be fine," Xander reassured him. "If anyone looks at you wrong, I'll divert their attention."

Xander pushed open the door to the heated wooden room, revealing a medium-sized space with a bench set around the wall. Said bench was only occupied by one other person: a man in his thirties with a face that Xander found very easy on the eyes. "Hello there," Xander greeted as he and Ren made their way inside the room, shutting the door to contain the heat.

"Salutatings!" the other man said with a smile and a wave.

Xander and Ren sat on the bench across from their company. "It's a real nice sauna, isn't it?" Xander said to make conversation.

"Of course it is!" the other man agreed. "Do you think I would acceptate anything less than perfectation? People as beautificious as us should only have the best!"

"Beautificious," Xander repeated. "Now there's a nice word. I should start using it."

"I wouldn't," Ren said softly.

"I'm Xander," Xander stated, leaving room for Ren to introduce himself if he so wanted.

"Novez," the other man replied. "And I am most defiantly a residentialite of this empire."

When it became clear that Ren didn't want any part of this conversation, Xander picked it back up. "Well, I'm not a local," he admitted. "I'm just here to relax with a couple of friends. Would you recommend any sights to see?"

"Well, there's always the palace," the man calling himself Novez suggested. "I like to look at it and imagine myself living in it one day."

"If you ruled this empire," Xander asked, "what would you do?"

"What WOULDN'T I do?" the man calling himself Novez responded without missing a beat. "I would have only the finest food for meals! I would sleep until whenever I wanted! I would hire someone to sing MY theme song! I would hire someone to write me a theme song!"

"Same," Xander laughed. "Though I'd go one step further and make my birthday a national holiday."

"Good idea!" the man calling himself Novez agreed. Then he realized: "Hmm. I don't actually know when my birthday is."

"You don't know your own birthday?" Xander said with concern.

"It doesn't matter!" the man calling himself Novez cried. "I shall PICK a birthday, and everyone will have to give me gifts!"

Xander couldn't help but smile at the enthusiasm. "Though really," he confessed, "all joking aside, if I were emperor, I'd do whatever I could to help people's lives be easier. That's what it's really all about, you know? Using your power to help those who don't have any. Feeding the poor and curing the sick."

"A heroic answer," the man calling himself Novez replied with a little uncertainty. "I…guess I would do all of those things too." He stood up sharply. "I've spent enough time warming up! I'm going to be late for my manicuration!"

"Well, it was a pleasure meeting you," Xander said coyly.

"Wiselike!" the man calling himself Novez insisted as he quickly shuffled out of the room.

Xander settled back against the wall and sighed. "You know, he was kind of cute."

"I don't know," Ren chimed in. "Something about him seemed…wrong. I can't really tell you what it was, but I got a bad feeling from him."

"Well, we won't likely be seeing him again," Xander replied. "Not unless fate crosses our paths. I hope it does."

"If it does, I hope it works out well for you," Ren said cautiously.

...

As promised, the employees of the Kuzco Paradise Spa and Salon were skilled in treating clients with hooves. Cadance lay down on a massage table as an attendant worked out the muscles in her back.

All the while, she was unaware of the fact that Yzma was receiving a massage one table over, and Yzma was likewise unaware of Cadance's presence.

A pair of deliverymen hoisted a long and wide mirror through the massage parlor, taking great care not to tip the mirror over and cause it any damage whatsoever. They walked slowly and carefully between the massage tables to get to the far end of the room.

"So what brings you to the spa today?" Yzma's masseuse asked her.

"Oh, you know," Yzma replied casually. "Just trying to relax in between attempts to take over all of existence."

Yzma's masseuse laughed it off, figuring it to be a joke.

When Cadance overheard, however, her head snapped upward, on the alert. She wanted, needed to know who would even joke about such things. She turned to glance in Yzma's direction.

But at that very moment, the mirror passed between her table and Yzma's. In the split second Cadance had her head up, she didn't process that the mirror was moving. She saw her own reflection and assumed the presence of a stationary mirror. Laying her head back down, she wrote off the comment she thought she had heard as a trick of the mind. There was no one over there. It was just a wall with a mirror inset.

As the deliverymen approached the far wall, the head masseuse stopped them. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked.

"Delivering this giant mirror, like you ordered," the front deliveryman said.

"I never ordered a giant mirror!" the head masseuse said in exasperation.

"You didn't?" the front deliveryman asked. "Isn't this 42 Kuzco Way?"

"Yes," the head masseuse barked, "but I don't need that mirror. Go try the hair salon section. Maybe they ordered it."

The deliveryman knew better than to shrug when he was holding a delicate pane of glass. "Well, okay."

The two deliverymen turned around, bringing the mirror back through the way it had come.

"You're really tense," Cadance's masseuse observed.

"Yeah," Cadance sighed. "Trying to stop the forces of evil from taking over multiple kingdoms will do that to you."

Cadance's masseuse, much like Yzma's, laughed that off as a mere jest.

Yzma's head jerked upward so she could see who exactly had talked about stopping the forces of evil from attaining conquest. This happened as the mirror passed through once more, giving Yzma a view of her own reflection.

To Yzma's perception, the woman she glimpsed at the adjacent table was beautiful beyond all reason. And if you were that beautiful, you couldn't possibly be a goody-two-shoes on the inside. Yzma knew she would put her full trust as a conqueror in someone who looked that good. Satisfied, she lay her head back down.

The massages continued without further incident.

...

"Thank you," a grateful Terra Atmosian sighed as Aladdin handed her a package of rations.

"Hey, it's no problem," Aladdin told her. "I just kinda wish we could do more."

"This is a lot," the woman affirmed.

Dilan leaned up against a nearby wall, flipping the pages of his book with care as his eyes traversed the text within. Sadira sidled up next to him, trying to get a peek at his reading material; once she was detected, Dilan shut the book.

"Whatcha readin'?" Sadira asked.

"I don't see how that's your concern," Dilan snapped.

"I'm just curious," Sadira emphasized. "What, are you hiding something?"

"No," Dilan grunted, holding the book up so Sadira could see the title. "It is a guide to advanced magics, such as the black sands. I wish to be well-informed about tactics our enemies may use against us…and what we may use to counter them."

"Nice!" Sadira complimented. "Mind if I get a look when you're done?"

"When I am done," Dilan growled, "and not a minute before."

"You must be real fun at parties."

"I was told as much in my younger days, before Xemnas. I wear my disposition as a badge of pride."

Sadira shrugged. "More power to you, I guess."

All conversation halted when a new voice became audible: "…don't buy the whole 'prince' act. How much royalty can you actually be when you come from the streets?"

"What?" Aladdin flinched. "Nick?"

"That couldn't have been Nick," Sadira argued.

"It sure sounded like Nick," Genie mused.

Vida's voice followed up: "You know what I REALLY don't buy, though? That Sadira is supposedly one of the good guys now. Can we really trust a witch of the sand who did all those bad things?"

"You could say the same about Dilan," Madison's voice chimed in. "Or should I say 'Xaldin'?"

"We're not focusing on the bigger problem here," Chip's voice concluded. "Good or bad, Genie is seriously annoying. Can't we just dump him on some other world?"

"Okay, that's going TOO FAR!" Aladdin stormed in the direction of the voices. Genie and Sadira followed tentatively; Dilan strode behind.

Riku and Kairi's skimmers sailed in over the Terra; they dropped to the ground and converted into bikes, pulling in to a synchronized halt. "Hey, everyone!" Kairi yelled, running into the center of town, holding up her prize for anyone she could find to see. "LOOK WHAT RIKU AND I FOUND!" Suspended aloft in her hand was the new Aurora Stone, gleaming bright as a star beneath the clouded skies.

She and Riku skidded into the midst of a heated argument between the Mystic Rangers, the Agrabah contingent, Jaune, Nora, Luna, Moana, and Dilan, all of whom formed a great circle to be able to face each other.

"I didn't say that!" Chip barked. "I WOULDN'T say that! I think Genie is GREAT!"

"Maybe that's what you say when you know we're listening," Aladdin snapped. "When we leave you alone, it's a different story."

"And thinking I'm still BAD?" Sadira added. "I thought everyone was past that!"

"But I never SAID that!" Vida argued.

"Right." Sadira folded her arms. "And your sister never said Dilan couldn't be trusted."

"I no longer wish to wallow in my past," Dilan grunted. "The scars are yet fresh."

"But I DIDN'T!" Madison insisted.

"You know, saying Aladdin isn't fit to be the prince sounds real familiar," Moana remarked, folding her arms to match Sadira's position. "Almost like telling me I wasn't anything special."

"For the LAST TIME!" Nora yelled. "I don't know who or what you heard, but that WASN'T US!"

"You were the one who called Nora weird!" Jaune snapped.

"No, I didn't!" Moana seethed between gritted teeth.

"Please, everyone, stop!" Luna begged.

"What's going on?" Riku asked as he stepped closer to the circle.

Nick stepped back to point toward him and Kairi. "You wanna know who's been saying bad things? It's been those two, all along. They were the ones who put down my team!"

"We did WHAT?" Kairi reeled.

"Explain what you heard," Riku demanded. "Now."

"Just you saying I was uncooperative and Maddie wasn't a fighter," Nick accused. "Then saying you should send us back to Briarwood after this mission."

"But we didn't!" Kairi was taken aback. "It was Chip who said he couldn't believe I was in charge earli – "

"No," Riku said harshly. "Don't fall into this trap. Something isn't right."

"I'll say something isn't right," Vida grunted. "Maybe we SHOULD go back to Briarwood if you don't think we belong here."

"And if you're not going to respect me," Moana added, "I'll just go right back home!"

"Hey, nothing's stopping me," Aladdin chimed in. "If you don't want me here, I'll leave."

"Maybe having so many people from different worlds work together wasn't such a hot idea," Jaune groaned.

Riku approached Luna, having remembered her simple plea for the others to stop arguing. "What's happening?" he asked.

"Exactly as it sounds," Luna told him. "Everyone keeps thinking they hear the others' voices demeaning them, but the ones who supposedly spoke have no memory of the incident. It cannot be mass denial. We could not all have decided to insult each other behind our backs."

"Right," Kairi said with a nod. "And I know this stuff isn't really how we feel about each other." She turned to Chip. "I'm sorry I accused you of – "

"Save your apologies," Chip spat. "Unless you're going to apologize for what you said about my team."

"I can't apologize for what I didn't do," Kairi insisted, "but I saw Maddie fight, and she's amazing. And, Nick, if you weren't cooperative, you wouldn't be part of our team in the first place. But you are! I don't want you to go home to Briarwood unless that's what you really want!" She stepped into the circle, casting her gaze over everyone. "I don't know what's going on, but someone or something wants us all to hate each other and split up. We can't let them win!"

"And if that something is you?" Nick growled.

"Let's just finish up our jobs," Aladdin grumbled. "Then we can get back to where we belong. Home, not Radiant Garden."

The groups split up, dispersing to different parts of the Terra. "Wait!" Kairi called out. "Please! We can figure this out – "

The only ones to remain behind were Luna and Riku. "I agree with you," Luna said calmly, "and will do whatever I can to resolve this conundrum."

"You think this is Maleficent?" Riku wondered out loud. "Mozenrath? Xehanort?"

"I don't know," Kairi sighed. "I just – "

Another voice drifted around the corner: "Some princess she is. I wish she'd just leave us alone. She keeps thinking she's helping, but all she ever does is get in the way!"

Kairi gasped, lightly touching her fingers to her chest. The voice had been Jaune's.

"I heard it too," Riku affirmed.

Kairi shook her head. "No," she insisted. "That's one I know. He would never say that about me, and I would never say anything like that about him! Someone really is trying to mess with us! I just…don't know how to figure it out."

"Let's deliver the Aurora Stone first," Riku suggested. "We can think about it on the way."

"I shall accompany you," Luna stated. "It would not be wise for us to separate given the circumstances."

Riku, Kairi, and Luna made their way to the Terra's tower. Within minutes, the beacon had been installed, and light permeated the Terra's sky, giving the impression that tensions were thinner than they were.

...

Was there a discreet way to keep an elevator stationary on one floor? Archibald Snatcher didn't really know. He figured that if anyone interrupted his task, he would think of some excuse on the fly to get them to leave. He called the elevator up to the first floor, stepping inside and resolving not to move an inch. Besides, it was close to midnight; who was going to use the elevator at such an hour?

Meanwhile, in the library, Grany leaned against one of the bookshelves, having plucked a book from the mess and resolving that reading "True Stories Behind Famous Portraits" would be informative about the world he was on at least. He waited to open the cover until he saw Rémington, Roman, and Neo off.

"If all goes well, this should be the goods," Roman stated, and Rémington and Neo backed him up with enthusiastic nods.

"Just don't kill my brother while you're in there," Grany told him.

"You're worried about ME killing HIM?" Roman turned to see an innocent smile plastered across Rémington's face.

Neo pointed two fingers to her eyes, then one to Rémington.

"How about nobody kills anybody?" Rémington suggested. "Anyway, we'll photograph everything we see, and hopefully we won't come back empty-handed."

"What do you even think is in there?" Grany teased. "A hoard of gold and jewels? An array of Shushus?"

"That's what I'm hoping for," Rémington said with a smile.

"Let's get a move on," Roman commanded. "I want to be in and out before sunrise."

"Good idea," Rémington told him.

Roman led the way up the spiral staircase and into the ventilation shaft; Neo crawled right in after him, with Rémington filling out the rear of the contingent. They wormed their way to the elevator shaft, climbing down the rungs with relative grace to reach the stairway that led to the elevator's lowest resting place.

"Hello again, door," Roman announced as he stepped into the small chamber. "This time, I'm going to have all the time I need to figure you out without anybody dropping an elevator on my head."

"You dropped that elevator on your own head," Rémington reminded him.

Neo tapped on Rémington's shoulder; when he turned to her, she held up a strip of black fabric she'd found on the floor. "That's mine!" Rémington cried as he swiped the torn half of his cape out of her hands.

Neo nodded; she had figured.

Rémington looked at the cape rather mournfully before tying the length around his stomach, above his weapon belt.

Roman had already gone to work on the sliding bars, testing out combinations until he had every single one open. The metal door swung with a rusty creak. "And we're in," he remarked, striding confidently through the door.

Neo and Rémington followed him to a low-ceilinged corridor; whoever had designed it had perfectly conveyed that it was meant to be underground. It forked in a perpendicular fashion several paces in; the trio could either go left or right.

"All right, team," Roman announced. "Cast your votes!"

"Right seems good," Rémington suggested.

"Reasoning?" Roman asked.

Rémington shrugged. "Just a feeling."

"Neo?" Roman turned about.

Neo pointed down the right-hand path.

"Right it is," Roman resolved, leading his companions down the chosen path. It sloped upward rather drastically, ending in a moderately sized door set in a stone wall. "Ladies and…Smisse," Roman said dramatically, "I give to you, beyond this door, a mystery beyond your wildest imagination! Our travels and misadventures have finally led us to this! BEHOLD!"

He threw open the door to reveal a view of one of the hallways on the first floor of the hotel.

"…A regular hallway in the middle of the building," Roman concluded. "Well, that's a letdown. What we're looking for had to be down the OTHER path – "

Neo began to hop up and down to get Roman's attention, waving her hands excitedly.

"Yes, Neo?" Roman asked.

She made several signs that Rémington couldn't even begin to decipher. "You're scared," he guessed. "No, you're hungry, and you think we should send someone out to get some snacks before we go back down the other path."

Neo shook her head furiously, pointing at Rémington and making more gestures.

"Neo!" Roman realized. "You're a GENIUS! Well, okay, actually, that was pretty obvious, and I'm not sure how I didn't think of it. When we tell this story, can we say I was the one who thought of it?"

"What's she saying?" Rémington asked, perplexed.

"This door leads right to the underground passage from the middle of the hotel," Roman reiterated. "We can get Archie and Kitty Cat in through this way, and they won't have to miss out!"

Neo made a gesture that resembled an opening door with both hands, slamming the pantomime door and hiding one hand behind the other.

"Riiiiiight," Roman realized. "This is probably a one-way door, or anyone could find it. I'll go get the others and bring them back here. I'll knock like this – " He rapped a distinctive pattern on the wall. "Then you two open the door and let us in. Neo, you're in charge of making sure Rémy doesn't run off down the other path without us. Got it?"

Neo nodded.

"Do you always have to assume I'll do the worst?" Rémington grunted.

"Have I ever not called what you've actually been thinking about doing?" Roman retorted.

Rémington was silent on that matter.

"That's what I thought," Roman told him. "I'll be back. Wait for the knock."

He let the door fall shut as he stepped out into the hall. From that side, it melted into the wall, with no apparent way to open it. Neo had been right on that front. Roman bolted as quickly yet quietly as he could toward the elevator.

He wasn't the first one to have run that course.

As Grany had continued reading his randomly selected material, a passage caught his eye. Something about it seemed all too familiar. He read over it a couple times. On the second read, he realized what exactly had triggered his memory, but his instincts shrugged it off as a coincidence. But on the third read, mulling it over, he realized there was no way it could be.

Book in hand, he thundered out of the library, opening his mouth and forming an "S" with it before realizing that would be calling out the wrong name. Ideally, he wouldn't be heard at all, but if there were any open ears, they had to hear the right moniker. "Frou Frou!" he yelled as he barreled toward the elevator. "FROU FROU!"

He pounded on the door of the elevator until Snatcher opened it from the other side. "Monseiur Smisse!" Snatcher huffed in frustration. "Precisely WHAT has prompted such a raucous display? You could very well draw all the wrong attention with that racket!"

"Frou Frou," Grany panted, handing over the book. "Read this." As Snatcher looked over the page Grany had indicated, Grany summarized it in his own words. "So this Queen Marie was given a crown by her husband to wear for a portrait, but she hated it because I guess it was too fancy or something. There's some kind of economic complication. She called it her 'crown of shame' and stowed it as soon as she got it. They painted her without it, and nobody has any idea what happened to the crown. But it had four jewels in it. There was a ruby, a sapphire, and an emerald. And there was a diamond. Do you get it?"

It clicked right away. "Are you suggesting," Snatcher reiterated, "that the gems we found throughout this hotel – "

"Weren't glass. Didn't you say the tower was from another country? I think it's the one Queen Marie was from. Those jewels were connected to it."

"And yet we have lost them," Snatcher reminded Grany. "Some upstart thief has robbed us of our ruby, our sapphire, and our emerald."

"But there's a diamond," Grany reminded him. "We never found the diamond! I will bet you ANYTHING it's still in that tower!"

"Anything?" Snatcher smirked. "Why, Monsieur Smisse, I would be tempted to take you up on that offer, but I do believe you to have found a thread of logic. It would be unwise to bet against you regarding this theory."

"Are you sure? Because I was hoping you'd offer to fix all my clothes for a month or something."

That was when Roman skidded into the hall. "Torchwick!" Snatcher greeted, taken aback. "I had thought you were deep within the bowels of this elegant labyrinth."

"I was," Roman replied. "Rémy, Neo, and I just found a back way in, and I figured you two wouldn't want to miss this. …Why are you both here, anyway? I thought Kitty Cat – "

"THAT'S my nickname?" Grany practically screeched. "Change it to something else!"

"Okay," Roman decided. "How does 'Sour Apples' sound to you?"

"I guess it's better than 'Kitty Cat.' I'm not sure what it means…"

"It's because your name sounds like…" Roman shook his head. "Whatever. I'm not explaining this. I thought Sour Apples was hanging back in the library?"

"He was," Snatcher confirmed. "Yet he made a most intriguing discovery there completely by accident. Come, come!" He playfully placed one hand on Grany's shoulder and the other on Roman's shoulder, and the three set off down the hallway. "Let us discuss Monsieur Smisse's findings as we investigate Torchwick's new route."

Before long, Roman, Snatcher, Rémington, Grany, and Neo were all headed down the subterranean corridor together, now carefully navigating the downward slope to the lower level to find the far end of the hall. That had given Snatcher and Grany enough time to relate the finding of the anecdote about the crown of shame.

"Yeah, I'll put money on that diamond being there," Roman remarked.

"You really can't," Grany told him. "No one's betting against it."

"We still don't know who exactly took the other gems from us," Rémington pointed out. "I want them back."

"We all want them back, Monsieur Smisse," Snatcher affirmed.

"We're completely underground," Rémington reminded him. "You really don't have to stay in character."

"Must you be such a killjoy, Monsieur Smisse?" Snatcher asked without letting up on Frou Frou's accent in the slightest. "Though you do make a point. We have somehow gained some sort of rival within these walls, and it simply wouldn't do to let him get away with what he's done without proper retribution."

Neo asked through pantomime how Snatcher knew it was a man who'd robbed them. Snatcher ignored her.

The floor finally leveled out, and the group passed where Roman, Rémington, and Neo had entered from the elevator shaft, moving down to the other end of the hallway and encountering some twists and turns in the corridor.

"All right, time for round two," Roman announced. "Ladies, gentlemen, and Rémy!"

"Because that joke was so hilarious the first time," Rémington grumbled.

Roman turned to face the rest of the group, walking backward. "We are about to view a mystery beyond imagination! All our hard work is about to pay off. In just a few short steps, we will find out exactly what it is we've been looking for! And…"

The others had all suddenly gone wide-eyed and slack-jawed at the sight behind Roman.

"Wha?" Roman spun back around to face front, and then he saw what had everyone so flummoxed. At one point, the path they'd reached had been blocked off, from floor to ceiling, by a grate of thick iron bars. Perhaps there had been a gate built in for access granted to whomever had the right key. But at the moment, only the edges of the bars remained, sticking up from the floor, pointing down from above, and some intact on either side. However, something of unknown origin had all but obliterated the bulk of the bars. Pools of hot melted metal rested on the other side of the blockage, giving a hint of sorts as to events.

"What…the…" Roman gasped.

There was a collective silence before Rémington pointed out, "Well, that's one gate we don't have to worry about figuring out a way past."

"That does not answer the most important question about this situation," Snatcher said with concern. "Was this recent?"

Roman removed one glove, kneeling to touch one of the spiky remains of the bars. As soon as his finger made contact, he drew it away, shaking his hand and hissing. "That's hot," he grunted as he stood back up. "Whatever happened here JUST happened here. Now, I'm no expert, but if I had to guess, I'd say it looks like somebody tore through these bars by throwing a gallon of hot lava at them."

"That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard," Grany groaned while Neo shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"Now, now," Snatcher scolded. "It may not be the most…credible explanation, but we have seen stranger, have we not?"

"Don't defend 'Somebody threw lava at the bars' just because he's your boyfriend," Rémington sighed. "Let's just keep going."

Rémington made to move forward, but Snatcher blocked him with an outstretched arm. "This may very well have been done by our rival," Snatcher theorized. "He is attempting to beat us to the tower and claim the diamond for himself. And this suggests he is somehow armed."

"Well, so are we," Rémington argued. "…We are, aren't we?"

"I am," Grany told him, tapping the sword strapped to his back.

"Why would I have brought my WEAPON here?" Roman groaned. "How do you think I could have gotten it through the vent while crawling? Of course I'm not armed!"

Neo shrugged; she'd left her blade behind as well in order to pass through the vent unencumbered.

"Well, don't look at me," Snatcher added. "A lady never carries a weapon in a public space of rest and relaxation. I had only planned on spending my time inside that elevator."

Rémington sighed. "Fine. Here." He shoved a pistol into Roman's hands. "You take this." A short knife into Neo's. "You take this." He looked at Snatcher. "And you…just…be ready to charm your way out of anything."

Neo sighed, handing over her knife to Snatcher.

"Trust her," Roman assured Snatcher. "She doesn't REALLY need it if she's determined enough."

"Well, then" was Snatcher's only response.

"Are we good?" Rémington asked.

"Let us press onward," Snatcher affirmed.

They stepped easily through what had once been a gate, finding another obstacle beyond. A pit was set in the middle of the floor, far too wide for even Rémington to leap across safely, leading so far down that none could see the bottom. A stone bridge connected one side to the other…perpendicular to the direction that the group needed it to be in order to ferry them.

"Okaaaaay," Roman groaned. "This is bad architectural design."

Neo pointed to the bridge, making turning motions with her arms; there must have been some way to turn the bridge so that it would span the pit in the proper direction.

"Knowing what we do of this castle so far," Snatcher mused, "it would only make sense for some sort of intricate puzzle to yield us a way across."

Roman clapped Rémington on the back. "All right, Rémy. You go fuck with something at random and magically get us across that pit."

"It doesn't work like that," Rémington sighed as he took a look around. On one of the walls of the corridor, there were five metal panels set at different heights. On the wall directly across from that, five chains dangled, each ending in a metal loop. Experimentally, Rémington approached the chains, tugging one down. Another one came with it. As he pulled another one down, still another went up. He stepped back, stroking his chin thoughtfully as he stared the chains down.

"He's gonna do it," Roman whispered to Snatcher.

"Oh, undoubtedly," Snatcher whispered right back.

In only a few minutes, Rémington had figured out how to align the chains with the panels on the opposite wall. There was a grinding of stone; all heads turned to see the bridge over the pit swiveling to connect their end to the far end of the pit where the hallway continued.

"Maybe it does work like that after all," Rémington said with a shrug. "Guess I'm just magic."

"Was it really a good idea to let this go to his head?" Snatcher asked as they approached the bridge.

Neo shook her head: a definite no.

In single file, they crossed the bridge and made their way deeper into the bowels of the building.

The halls became even more intricate in their layout; the quintet hit a couple of dead ends while trying to navigate the forks. At last, they came to a more open chamber that seemed to yield promise. Half of the chamber was taken up by a stone structure that looked like a smaller room had been built off to the side, but only taking up one level's worth of space. The center of the chamber was decorated by a small table. The chamber stretched up and up, a stairway made of flat stones protruding from the wall spiraling around and upward.

"I'd say this looks like the inside of a tower," Rémington commented.

"Well?" Grany said excitedly. "Let's go!" Before anyone else even thought to move, he was barreling up the stairway. And then he was brought to an abrupt halt. For one level off the ground, there were simply no more stairs. After a gap, though, the stairway seemed to resume. "WHAT?" Grany cried in dismay. "But we're SO CLOSE!"

Neo made motions reminiscent of flat stones breaking away from the wall; had the stairs simply crumbled away out of old age?

"No, no, Mademoiselle," Snatcher realized, approaching the table. "It is another puzzle! Does that not just seem to be the way?"

Grany resignedly made his way back down the stairs. "It's weird," he observed, pointing at the smaller room. "That doesn't have a roof. You can look right down into it from the gap in the stairs. There's nothing in there."

Rémington tried the door to the smaller room. "Locked," he observed. "If Snatcher's right about there being more stairs, don't fall off going up them."

Snatcher leaned over the table. "Just as I thought," he muttered. Roman, Neo, Rémington, and Grany crowded around him to see what he'd found. The table had a grid carved into its surface like a checkerboard. Three squares in random locations were colored pink, blue, and yellow. Three round tiles of matching colors lay on the edge of the board. Small walls separated some of the squares, but not others. When Snatcher nudged a round tile with a finger, it slid all the way until it hit a wall, and then stopped.

"I see," he mused. "So one must match the round tiles to their corresponding squares. A simple undertaking for a complex intellect, of course."

He slid the tiles around for a good minute without even getting them close to their homes.

"Maybe you should try moving the blue one up?" Roman suggested.

"And the pink one to the left," Rémington volunteered. "Actually, do that first."

"No!" Grany snapped. "The blue one needs to be there first to be a backstop for the pink one!"

This continued for some time:

"The yellow one needs to go that way."

"Have you tried backing the blue one up against that wall?"

"How is he supposed to get the blue one to THAT wall?"

"Well, maybe if the pink one was on top – "

"But then you'd have to move it right, and that's not right."

"So move the yellow one."

"No, the yellow one needs to stay where it is so the blue one can – "

"WILL YOU LET ME DO THIS IN PEACE?" Snatcher barked. Roman, Rémington, and Grany fell silent.

"Much better," Snatcher sighed, turning his eyes back to the board. "This cannot be as difficult as it seems. There must be a way to – "

Neo reached around Snatcher, sliding the pink tile into place. From there, the solution was suddenly obvious.

"Most insightful, Mademoiselle," Snatcher said in somewhat of a dismay, "though I was just about to come to that conclusion myself."

He clicked the tiles around the board until all three slid home. The grinding of stone above the quintet's heads let them know the stairway had put itself together.

Grany and Rémington nearly tripped over each other trying to be the first ones to get on the stairs. Roman shot Neo a look; "Can you take care of this?"

Neo seized both brothers by the earlobes, dragging them back and away from the staircase.

"Who's in charge here?" Roman reminded them.

"That question is kind of up for debate, isn't it?" Rémington attempted.

"Who," Roman repeated, "is in…charge?"

The Smisses sighed. "Snatcher."

"And you would both do well to remember it," Snatcher said as he stepped onto the lowest stair. "As such, I shall be the first one to ascend and see what reward we have reaped." His heels clicked loudly on the stone, echoing throughout the chamber.

"He's really going to climb that thing in heels?" Rémington said in wonder. "Does he have a death wish?"  
"He's grace," Roman said with a shrug as he followed.

Neo was the next to fall in line, followed by Rémington, then Grany. The ascent ended at a small, unassuming-looking wooden doorway.

"Behold," Snatcher whispered to himself as he eased the door open. "A mystery beyond imagination."

Beyond the door was a room that so starkly contrasted the grim stone of the corridors leading to it, Snatcher wasn't sure at first that he was still in the same building. The walls were all painted bright gold, an engraved pattern of leaves curling about the chamber's midsection. The small round room featured a tile portrait of a woman in regal dress on one wall – a close observation would reveal it had been carved away in one spot. The floor was of a black and white checkered tile. But the most striking feature of the room was not the brilliant color of the walls, nor the wall-length portrait of Marie Antoinette indeed.

It was the fact that the room was, as Snatcher had suspected, already occupied.

Two people knelt over the center of the floor, where a shield-shaped design broke up the checkered tile pattern. They had already set the three medallions, blue, red, and green, in circular indentations. Now, one of them, a tall, thin woman with raven hair piled atop her head and a bright red gown with a long skirt enveloping her, was inserting what looked like a key into the center of the floor, turning it and watching as an entire circle of floor sank down below.

"This is it, Herb," she said giddily. "The last piece."

"You'll finally have a crown that's befitting of you, my queen," the other person, a man of an even taller and thinner figure, with short brown hair and dressed in a sharp green suit, replied.

A great red pillar rose up from the hole in the floor; atop it rested the largest, most resplendent diamond Snatcher had ever seen. The two strangers scrambled to their feet, eyes wide as they beheld it. "Scarlet," the man said, "it is even more beautiful than I imagined."

The woman's grin split her face from ear to ear, and she rapidly tapped her feet, her high heels clicking against the floor. "We did it, Herb. We actually DID IT. After all this time, we finally found the diamond!"

"And to think all you needed was to purloin the hard-earned medallions of much better thieves."

Snatcher's voice, high and lilting as Frou Frou, cut through the air like a blade. The pair of strangers froze, pivoting to look at where the door framed Snatcher. Confidently, Snatcher strode into the room, letting Roman, Neo, and the Smisses follow him and line up along the wall. Grany held his position before the door frame, blocking anyone from trying to make an escape.

The raven-haired woman's expression darkened (as her male companion remained flabbergasted). "Well," she growled. "I should have known you'd try to catch up to us. You've been sticking your noses where they don't belong from the moment you showed up."

"I'm sorry, but I don't believe we've met," Snatcher said casually. "Who are you, and what makes you think this diamond is yours?"

"Scarlet Overkill," the raven-haired woman said confidently, "and my husband Herb and I have only spent the past MONTH renting out a room in this hotel so we could sniff out this diamond. I don't know how you ended up with those medallions, but my guess is you just got lucky. Herb and I have been translating French journals, breaking codes, deciphering symbols, and discussing the history of this castle with the other guests since day one. You walked into this tower because we destroyed the gate. We actually found the key!"

"If you had the key," Rémington asked, "why did you break down the gate?"

"Well, one of us, not saying who, might have accidentally dropped the key into that weird room below the gap in the stairs," Herb stated. "And that someone might have totally been me, in which case, I'm still really sorry."

Scarlet's demeanor shifted briefly as she turned to Herb, gently pinching his cheek. "I told you not to worry about that, sweetie," she cooed. "Accidents happen! That's what we have the lava gun for!"

"I'm sorry," Roman broke in. "Did you say LAVA GUN?"

Herb reached down to pluck a sizeable gun off the floor; a transparent chamber revealed that it was filled with a bubbling red liquid. "Oh, you know it," Herb said with a sly grin.

"WHO CALLED IT?" Roman yelled with arms outstretched. "WHO TOTALLY SAID IT WAS LAVA?"

"Now, I don't have to ask who you are," Scarlet went on, turning her attention back to the invading group. "My sources told me all about you. Penelope Frou Frou. Oh, you may look all innocent on the outside, and you can charm the socks off everyone who looks your way, but you're not subtle about snooping. I knew you were messing around in the library. I knew you were after this tower. And once I found all three medallions in your room, I knew you'd put two and two together about the diamond. You understand why I couldn't let you keep them. This diamond – " Scarlet swiped it up into one hand. "Was earmarked for Overkill."

"Are you sure about that?" Roman asked, raising the pistol Rémington had lent him.

Herb cowered, clutching the lava gun tightly, but Scarlet held her ground, staring Roman down. "That's a threat," she stated.

"You bet your ass it is," Roman replied.

"It would seem you have earned the right to take that diamond," Snatcher mused. "You've put in the time and the work. It's only fair that you get to reap the reward. It's simply too bad that life isn't fair, my dear." He fired a grin at his companions. "There are five of us and two of you. How do you think this is going to end?"

"Herb," Scarlet said decisively, "get back against the wall. Don't be afraid to pull the trigger on them."

"You got this, my queen," Herb said as he backed up against the far wall.

Scarlet held the diamond high above her head. "You want this?" she taunted.

Snatcher drew the knife he'd been given. Rémington held up the one pistol he had left. Grany drew his sword. Neo cracked her knuckles.

"Come and get it," Scarlet said with a smirk and a wink.

Roman and Rémington fired in synchrony; Scarlet expertly ducked the blasts, not even a hair on her head getting singed, and the ammo impacted the wall on either side of the trembling Herb. Their shots having been thwarted, Roman and Rémington rushed Scarlet, fingers tightening on the trigger as they closed the distance.

Neither got the chance to fire. A knee slammed into Rémington's solar plexus, a high heel drove against Roman's face, a gloved fist pummeled Rémington's nose, another heel punched into Roman's crotch before an elbow drove down onto his back when he doubled over. Scarlet gave a spin that sent both Roman and Rémington flying back against the walls, hitting hard enough that Roman's crimson Aura was briefly visible crackling over his body.

Scarlet knew it wouldn't be long before the others acted. She leapt when Grany's blade swiped at her; as it cut through the pillar that had held the diamond, her shoes touched down on the flat of it and she rode the blade through the rest of the swing before dropping down beside Grany to stomp on his foot, deck him in the eye, and elbow him in the throat. She let Snatcher get close enough with the knife that he sincerely believed she hadn't noticed him, then bent over backward as he stabbed; quick reflexes halted the blade a hair's breadth away from puncturing Grany's chest just over the heart. This gave Snatcher and Grany a moment of pause that allowed Scarlet to spin again, knocking each in the stomach and the nose. Grany was shoved against the wall next to his brother, hard enough to crack the gold. Scarlet ducked behind Snatcher, wrenching his knife arm behind his back hard enough to force a cry of pain out of him before steering him forward hard into the wall beside Roman.

Still on her guard, Scarlet spun and threw a punch right at Neo's face. Neo bent back slightly, letting the gloved fist pass over her before she seized Scarlet's arm and threw her in an arc overhead, slamming Scarlet down hard on the floor. Scarlet's grip on the diamond didn't loosen, even when Neo reached down to grasp the gem. Scarlet took the opportunity to twist and aim a kick at Neo's midsection; Neo pirouetted to the side and planted her foot on Scarlet's neck, pressing down hard. Scarlet gagged and squirmed.

"MADEMOISELLE!" Snatcher cried; Neo looked up to see Snatcher tossing the knife, which spun through the air. The handle landed deftly in Neo's hand. As Neo raised the knife high, Scarlet wrenched herself from below Neo with a display of desperate force; the blade of the knife dug into the checkered tile.

"Borrowing this!" Scarlet said hurriedly as she grabbed the lava gun from Herb. As she spun it, she became aware of the point of the knife Neo held pressing against her neck, right on the spot that was still sore and growing red from the pressure of Neo's shoe. Scarlet was briefly overcome with fear, but it was replaced with confidence when she fully took in the position that she was in. She pressed the barrel of the lava gun right into Neo's stomach.

"You stab me," Scarlet warned, "and I pull the trigger."

The two women maintained eye contact, each daring the other to make the first move. Snatcher, Roman, Rémington, and Grany peeled themselves off the wall, ready to back Neo up at a moment's notice.

"EVERYONE STOP!" Herb stepped forward, waving his hands in the air. "JUST CHILL OUT FOR A MINUTE!"

"This had better be good, Monsieur…Overkill," Snatcher growled, still unused to the taste of that unusual surname on his tongue.

"Are we seriously fighting over this?" Herb asked. "Think about it. All of you found the medallions and the tower, but you couldn't get in without us breaking down the gate, and you never even got close to finding the key to the floor. We tracked down the trail of exactly how to open up the diamond vault, but we couldn't pop that bad boy open without the medallions you all found. Maybe that diamond actually belongs to all of us."

"Herb," Scarlet growled, "does this really seem like the time? You and I came here to get that diamond, we chased it for a MONTH, and you want to SHARE IT?"

"Scarlet, honey," Herb reminded her, "they picked up the medallions in two days. We only found the green one, and that was after two weeks."

"Listen," Roman sighed. "We already came into this deal realizing we'd have to split the winnings FIVE ways. We're not interested in splitting it SEVEN."

"Now, don't be too hasty, dear Torchwick," Snatcher broke in. "Monsieur Overkill may have a point, loath as I am to admit it. Neither one of our factions could have made it to the diamond without the other. Besides, these Overkills, they seem like-minded to us. Thieves and murderers who seek power, no?"

"That's more or less it," Herb confirmed. "Well, we actually don't kill THAT many people, but yeah, same basic idea."

"I guess after admitting we broke into your room, it was a little too late to play up the 'historical collectors who planned to turn the diamond in to a museum' card," Scarlet sighed.

"Here is what I propose," Snatcher stated. "We shall move to a more conducive venue for conversation. We shall bring the gems. Each faction should hold on to two of the stones. We shall lay our cards on the table, and you shall lay yours. Perhaps we can come to an agreement after all. If nothing else, your dedication to this theft is truly admirable."

"And your work was impressive," Scarlet admitted. "Really, there's no way you could have just fallen on the sapphire and the ruby by accident. You had to know what you were doing."

Rémington, Roman, and Grany all made a point of looking anywhere but at Scarlet.

"Mademoiselle Neopolitan," Snatcher ordered, "will you please lower your blade?"

Neo used her free hand to tap the gun.

"Put down the knife," Scarlet growled, "and I put down the gun."

"You will both lower your weapons on my count," Snatcher demanded. "Failure to comply, Mademoiselle Neopolitan, will result in consequences. As for Mademoiselle Overkill, failure to comply will result in a quick and gruesome death. Not for you, mind you. For your adorable husband." He let that sink in. "On three. One…two…"

Scarlet turned the gun toward the floor. Neo let the knife dangle at her side.

"Much better," Snatcher said with a grin. "Shall we move this discussion into town, perhaps?"

"It's two in the morning," Rémington reminded him. "Nothing's going to be open."

"I know a 24-hour bar," Herb suggested. "Scarlet and I found it our first week here."

"Sounds like our kind of place!" Roman said agreeably.

"The shuttle does run through the night," Scarlet added. "This does sound like the best idea. No weapons. Two gems each. You all have one night to convince me that I should either turn mine over to you or work with you."

"All things considered, you wouldn't be the weirdest people we brought home if that ends up happening," Roman commented. "Still can't decide if that honor goes to Iceman or Mister Twister."

"You wanna bring us home?" Herb asked. "Like, to your crime syndicate or something? Because Scarlet and I really don't have a – "

"Let's not put that card face-up just yet," Scarlet said hastily.

"As for you," Snatcher said, "you have one night to convince us why we should turn our jewels over to you or invest our time in your talents."

"Sounds fair," Scarlet said with a nod. "Maybe the eight of us can work something out after all."

"Eight?" Snatcher repeated. "My dear Madame Overkill, there are five of us and two of you. That equals a definite seven."

"You didn't figure it out yet?" Scarlet said in surprise. "How I knew you. How I knew where the medallions would be. How I planted the emerald on you."

It clicked for Snatcher; "No!"

"Oh, yes," a new voice chimed in from the doorway.

All backed up to see Lisa Ostrum framed there. "Thanks for leading me to the diamond," she said with a grin.

"Our friendship!" Snatcher gasped. "It was all a ruse to plant the emerald medallion on me and find out where we were keeping the other two! You horrid, horrid woman!" He grinned. "I've no choice but to respect you."

"Like you weren't faking it on your end," Lisa said cheerily. "Scarlet was my real friend. She and I were in cahoots from the beginning. I knew what she was after the moment she showed up, and she figured out what I wanted right away."

"Hey, wait!" Roman realized. "I know you! I opened up your locker! You're the woman with all the fake IDs!"

"Guilty as charged," Lisa confessed. "A girl's gotta have a fallback identity, you know?"

"Oh, I know the concept well," Snatcher said with a smirk.

"So how'd you guys figure it all out?" Lisa asked. "Did you get the journal off Scarlet somehow? Did you talk to Hotchkiss?"

"Journal?" Grany repeated.

"You know," Lisa clarified. "The journal that Scarlet and Herb found up here. Marie Antoinette's journal. The one that told the entire story about her crown of shame. You never read the journal? Well, you at least had to have found some kind of record from Ezra Wickford talking about where he hid the ruby, right?"

This was met with blank stares.

"Do you even know anything ABOUT this place?" Lisa said in disbelief. "Never mind. Can I at least see the diamond for a second? I wanna know what it's like to just…you know. Hold it."

"You can hold onto it for our faction," Scarlet told Lisa as she forked over the diamond. "We'll also take the emerald, since that was ours beforehand." She stepped back to look at Snatcher. "You can take the ruby and the sapphire."

"Not ideal," Snatcher told her, "yet it is fair."

"What's all this about holding onto the jewels?" Lisa asked, taking a step backward.

"We might be putting together an alliance," Herb said as he took his position in front of Lisa. "My idea."

"We're all going down into town to talk it over with a few drinks," Roman added as he stepped in next to Herb. "If all goes well, we might just team up. You seem like our type, Woman of a Thousand Faces. You'll fit right in."

"Fit in?" Lisa repeated. "With YOU?" Another step back.

"I know, it's a little bit of a surprise," Herb stated, "but we're all cut from the same cloth. Thieves and all. And there should be loyalty between fellow thieves, don't you think?"

"A concept I've lived by," Rémington affirmed. "When it suits me."

"And, hey, you're already friends with Scarlet and me," Herb went on, "so this could be a good move for all of us. Sort of like a criminal supergroup."

"Now, hang on," Lisa protested, reading for her back pocket with the hand not clutching the diamond. "I said Scarlet was MY friend for real. I never said I was HERS."

"Wait, wha – "

Lisa retrieved a can of mace from her back pocket, spraying it quickly over Herb and Roman's faces, causing both to cry out "MY EYES!" in synchrony.

"Thanks again for digging up the diamond for me!" Lisa crowed, bolting out the door. "See you NEVER!"

"NOW YOU WAIT!" Snatcher charged after her immediately. No one blinded Roman Torchwick on his watch, even temporarily, and got away with it. Scarlet followed in hot pursuit; no one blinded Herb Overkill on her watch, even temporarily, and got away with it.

Partway down the stone stairs, Snatcher was able to reach over Lisa's shoulder and seize the diamond in his hands. "You will relinquish this IMMEDIATELY!" he shrieked.

Lisa spun, stepping two stairs down, tugging the diamond hard; Snatcher pulled on it with equal force, surprised at Lisa's strength. "In your dreams!" Lisa cackled. "You really only have yourselves to blame for this for being so GULLIBLE!"

Scarlet took careful note of the position of Snatcher and Lisa's feet. It couldn't have been more perfect. Scarlet knew of the exact stair that marked the divide she wanted, and it was in between the two. With a confident smile, she pressed a stone panel on the wall.

The segment of stairs that had been missing when Snatcher and company made their ascent retracted into the wall, right out from beneath Lisa's feet. With a scream, Lisa tumbled into the circular chamber below, losing her grip on the gem. Snatcher backed up even further to safety as Lisa plummeted.

"How did you know about that?" Snatcher asked.

"How do you think we removed the stairs so YOU couldn't follow us?" Scarlet countered.

Rémington, Grany, and Neo all spilled out onto the stairs to look at the damage. Lisa Ostrum lay on the stone floor below, sprawled out and unmoving. "I think she's dead," Grany observed.

Neo made a motion affirming that Lisa's neck had probably snapped on impact.

"She was supposed to be my friend!" Scarlet grumped. "Well, that's just what you get when you mace my husband and pretend to like me!"

"She shan't be missed," Snatcher agreed. He held the diamond out to Scarlet; "I believe, as per our agreement, this belongs to you."

Scarlet swiped the diamond, holding it close. "Nobody else gets to touch this."

Back in the tower room, Scarlet had to gently take Herb's wrists into her hands to stop him from rubbing his eyes; "Sweetie? That'll just make it worse. Just hang on and we'll get you somewhere you can wash that out."

"I can't see a thing," Roman grumbled. "Apparently Aura doesn't cover being maced in the eye? That's a thing."

Snatcher took Roman's arm gently. "Stay close to me," he said softly, "and I shall lead you until you regain your sight."

"And I'll lead you," Scarlet told Herb.

Rémington and Grany mimed gagging; Neo elbowed both of them to get them to stop. She moved to the remains of the pillar in the floor, giving it a press so that it retracted back below the checkered tile. The circle with the medallions and key inset reappeared; Neo pried up the emerald medallion and handed it over to Scarlet. She then picked up the ruby medallion, gestured to it, and made a gagging motion of her own.

"Why?" Rémington asked. "That's a valuable jewel!"

Neo jabbed her finger at Roman.

"I think she wants us to tell you that she's making faces at the red one," Grany stated.

"Yeah, I'm sick of Rubies too," Roman picked up immediately. "Not a big fan of Emeralds either, come to think of it. But treasure is treasure."

As Neo pulled up the sapphire, she gave Snatcher a questioning look.

"To our rooms," Snatcher informed her, "to return our weapons to their proper places and let Torchwick and Monsieur Overkill wash that horrible venom out of their eyes. Then to the bar to begin negotiations."

"Well, we just committed a murder together," Scarlet pointed out. "That seems like we're getting off on the right foot."

"Hopefully so," Snatcher told her, not sure whether to adopt an optimistic or pessimistic attitude toward his new fire-forged potential allies.

...

In the late afternoon before when Azula had indicated the invasion was to strike, Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, Stork, Jasmine, Aang, Katara, and Zuko took up a post inside one of the frontmost sentry towers of the Fire Nation capital, sharing the cramped chamber with a small host of guards.

"I wish Appa were here," Aang sighed. "Then we could get a better view from his back. Also, his company would be good right now."

"You should be glad your bison isn't here," Zuko replied. "The entire aerial fleet is out. Appa could get hurt."

"You really think they're going to attack from above?" Katara wondered out loud.

"We don't know where they're going to attack from," Zuko reminded her. "It's best to have all our bases covered."

"That's why I'm planning on heading where I'm going when they get here," Stork chimed in. "I'm not taking any chances."

"Let's go over the plan again," Ruby suggested. "So when they invade, do we split up and try and battle the invaders, or do we head for the palace?"

"Hopefully, we can stop them at the gate," Zuko told her. "I'll be headed for the palace myself. The rest of you can decide what you want to do based on the state we're in."

Sora watched a line of tanks roll out into position in front of the gates to the city. "I have a hard time imagining what can get past that," he remarked.

"Maybe we'll move to the palace if we're overwhelmed?" Ruby kept on musing.

"WE WON'T BE OVERWHELMED!" Papyrus boasted. "WE CAN TAKE DOWN ANYTHING THAT COMES OUR WAY! BESIDES, THEY MIGHT NOT EVEN SHOW UP AT ALL!"

"I'm feeling pretty confident, myself," Jasmine added.

A meager meal was passed around as the sun set. "Still nothing," Sora noted.

"They're waiting for the cover of darkness," Zuko stated coldly.

"I was afraid of that," Stork commented.

The last rays of light faded beyond the horizon. "You know," Sora remarked, "I have a friend back at our headquarters who will tell anyone who will listen why the sun sets red. It's something to do with how far light travels."

"Hang on." Zuko leaned out over the edge of the tower's window, peering into the shadows of the horizon. "I think I see something."

"Like what?" Katara asked worriedly.

The entire group moved around Zuko to get a look. Small pinpricks of light – tiny yellow eyes – amassed over something black and squirming.

"Heartless," Sora realized.

"What are Heartless?" Katara asked.

"Something I saw in my past lives," Aang explained. "I haven't seen them in a really long time. Not since Kyoshi. But they're people's hearts held captive by Darkness. Some of them, anyway. Others are just made of Darkness. Their entire existence is about destroying as much as they can. They're not really alive. There's something…wrong about the way they exist. Destroying a Heartless means freeing the captive heart inside, so I've actually thought about this after going over those memories, and they're the only creature I'd ever actually…destroy."

"Then they must be something serious," Katara said in awe.

"But those are just Shadows!" Sora observed.

"There are a loooooot of Shadows headed this way," Ruby noted. The tanks were beginning to respond, aiming their cannons to fire on the wave of Darkness.

"Yeah, but they're just Shadows," Sora reiterated. "We can take 'em down easy. This guy can send as many as he wants."

That was when the much bigger shapes began to fill the horizon.

"Uhhhh…" Ruby grabbed Sora's shoulder and shook it. "UUUUUHHHH…THOSE AREN'T SHADOWS."

"Is this as bad as I think it is?" Stork asked, his voice cracking.

Sora stepped back in horror. "Oh boy," he squeaked. "Not good! NOT GOOD!"

Darksides. Grim Reapers. Bolt Towers. Stealth Sneaks. Prison Keepers. And in between, the smaller varieties: Air Soldiers, Zip Slashers, Bully Dogs. Every Heartless Sora could recall having faced and then some was identifiable among the incoming wave, including a flock of aerial types. At their head was a lumbering Behemoth with eight figures riding on its back.

"Maybe the tanks will stop them?" Katara said in a trembling tone.

"MAYBE THE TANKS WILL STOP THEM?" Stork shrieked. "ARE YOU LOOKING AT WHAT I'M LOOKING AT?"

Down below, Facilier stood tall atop the head of the Behemoth, cane pressed down with both hands so it rested on the Behemoth's forhead, just behind its horn. Directly behind him, Ozai and Zhao stood tall on the shoulders; Vexen, Mim, Wuya, the Huntsman, and Xayide filled in on the creature's back, looking less than pleased. He watched as the tanks' cannons aimed at the army he had conjured from the Darkness, fueled by the power of the Solstice night; the centermost four tanks concentrated on the Behemoth. "FRIENDS!" Facilier barked, raising a hand to point at the tanks. "ALLEZ!"

A squadron of Grim Reapers surged forward, having at the tanks with their pendulums. The metal was ripped apart. The front line managed to get a few shots in; some of the invading creatures were struck down, but it hardly made a dent in the oncoming force. The Behemoth staggered from a wound, going down on its knees before collapsing and fading to Darkness. Facilier, Zhao, Ozai, Mim, the Huntsman, Xayide, Wuya, and Vexen were now ground-bound, but their Heartless assist force was clearing a path for them through the security surrounding the gates.

"Now just do what y'all did when we sprang Ozai from his cage," Facilier commanded.

"Once again," Wuya observed, "despite the circumstances, this could actually be some fun."

A squadron of firebenders rushed to meet them on foot. Wuya, Mim, Xayide, Vexen, and the Huntsman charged in kind, easily disposing of their attackers.

"Everyone, GO!" Zuko yelled. "GO NOW!"

Ruby hoisted up Crescent Rose. Jasmine took into hand a spear she had been granted by the Fire Nation army. Sora's Keyblade glittered into existence.

As the small group of heroes departed the tower, they were greeted by the sight of the Heartless already beginning to overrun the city. "I'm going to go try and cut down as many as I can!" Ruby yelled as she extended Crescent Rose to full length. "If there are too many, I'll head for the palace! GO GET 'EM!"  
She swung away, dispatching three Soldiers as she charged down the street.

"Good idea!" Sora decided. "Let's split up and bring 'em down!"

The group dispersed, but not before Sora and Stork turned to look back at each other. Sora knew what Stork was planning, and flashed him a thumbs-up. Stork returned the gesture with a firm nod. Then he and Sora rushed in opposite directions.

Jasmine could already see the Fire Nation armored soldiers engaging in battle with the Heartless in the streets. Most times, it appeared the Fire Nation troops had the upper hand. However, when Jasmine arrived in an open square, she found many soldiers felled – hopefully just knocked out, she thought to herself, though she knew better.

In the center of the square, a Behemoth lumbered, raising its horn to the sky and bringing down surges of electricity to strike the buildings that lined the streets. Identifying it as the cause of the destruction in the area, Jasmine resolved to bring the Behemoth down. She gripped her spear tightly, standing tall as she faced the beast.

The Heartless took notice of this last woman standing in its path and cast its electric bolts in her direction. She leapt and dodged every strike in succession, making a run directly at the creature. It lowered its head to charge its horn with even more energy. Before it could let loose, Jasmine reached it, striking at the horn with her weapon.

The Behemoth shook its head violently from side to side, knocking Jasmine across the street until she smacked into the façade of a building. Her quick reflexes kicked in, saving her from the loosed blast of energy just before it ripped apart the stone of the structure she had been pressed against.

It had become frantic when she had gone for the horn, Jasmine realized. A plan took shape in her mind. She quickly darted down the narrow gap between two buildings, getting one street over, out of sight of the Behemoth but running ahead of it at top speed. Once there was considerable distance between herself and the Behemoth, she use her spear to chop down a back door, barging into the building.

She came upon a family of three, a mother and two children huddling and quivering in the corner. "You need to go!" Jasmine commanded, pointing toward the door she'd used to enter. "There aren't as many of them in that direction. If you stay here, that thing outside will destroy you!"

As the woman took her children's hands and made a dash, Jasmine hoped to God that she'd sent them to safety and not to death. She continued her upward path, getting to the second floor. Just as she arrived at a window that provided an adequate angle, the Behemoth's head passed by.

Jasmine half crawled, half leapt from the window, landing on the Behemoth's head. The creature went wild, swinging its head about. Jasmine wobbled, but held her balance long enough to raise the spear high above the Heartless' horn and then drive it down into the creature's head, just at the horn's base.

The Behemoth's movements halted. It crumpled, legs giving way, and its body hit the ground hard enough to shake. Jasmine leapt to the ground, bending her knees to absorb the shock. As she turned, she saw the Behemoth's body fade, a heart spinning upward out of it and into the night sky among the clash of the Fire Nation dirigibles and the flock of Wyverns and Air Pirates.

The sound of thundering feet alerted her to the fact that more were coming. She braced her spear.

Katara uncorked a large jug that she kept strapped to her side, bringing out a swath of water that she kept levitated. Shadows leapt at her from all sides; she swiped the water left and right, cutting them back. For every one she knocked down with her water, ten more seemed to appear in its place.

When they backed off, Katara knew it was no time to let her guard down. They were planning something; they were mobilizing. They banded together into a cloud that rose up above the streets: a mass of wriggling Shadows that acted as a single Demon Tide. The Tide charged Katara head-on.

She was ready with her water, sidestepping and slashing out with the water, which was shaped in such a way that it formed a sharp edge when it moved quickly across the Tide. Several Shadows came loose and fell to the ground, dissipating into nothingness. The Tide turned and came back for another round; Katara sidestepped once more, slicing again. The Tide crashed into the street before Katara, re-emerging from the ground behind her; she quickly ran, slinging water behind her as fast as she could to thin the numbers of the Shadows in the Tide.

They backed off again, and Katara wondered if she really had beaten them this time. When they forged a cyclone shape, a streak of hot orange running through the mass, Katara knew the exact opposite was happening. She quickly formed a ring of running water around herself. The cyclone tried to collide with her from several angles, only to be repelled by the force of the water.

It wasn't going to be enough, Katara knew. Her eyes slid to a sewer grate set in the street. It would be filthy, but it would serve its purpose.

The Tide had a new tactic: shooting bombs made of packed-together Shadows into the air. Katara was able to outrun the first few, but then there were altogether too many masses of Shadows falling from the sky. It took all of Katara's resolve not to panic. She stood over the grate, calling up all the water she could from it.

The water rose up around her in a dome, freezing into solid ice. There were several loud THUDs as the Shadow-bombs collided with Katara's protective shield. Through the blurred vision offered by the ice, she became aware of the cyclone growing closer, spitting out more bombs. She waited, hoping it would come just a little closer, just a little closer –

It was right on top of her, spitting out bombs like rainwater from a cloud.

The ice dome exploded at Katara's will, becoming a shockwave of razor-sharp shards of ice that pierced through nearly every single Shadow. The Demon Tide fell apart, losing its orange glow as its host scattered and scurried.

Katara's breathing was heavy. "That better be the last one of those," she huffed to herself.

But as her gaze traveled upward, it met with an even greater wave of Shadows spilling over the rooftops of the nearest homes.

Civilians ran in terror from a great Guard Armor that clanked down the street, its heavy boots kicking out at anyone it got close to. As the people bolted, they became aware of one figure that, instead of making a mad dash away from the Heartless, was striding confidently toward it.

"RUN!" someone yelled. "YOU'LL GET KILLED!"

"I AM NOT AFRAID!" Papyrus responded. "NOR SHOULD YOU BE! FOR I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM HERE TO FACE THIS EVIL!"

The Guard Armor halted when it realized that one target was coming toward it instead of moving away.

"I HOPE YOU ARE PREPARED FOR A HARROWING BATTLE!" Papyrus yelled as he pointed dramatically at the Guard Armor.

The Armor responded with a sharp kick; Papyrus ducked and rolled. "IS THAT ALL YOU'VE GOT?" he taunted as he stood to full height. A host of bright blue bones sprang up around him, circling him in ever faster speeds.

The Armor retaliated, its gauntlets spinning about it in the same fashion, sharp nails outstretched. Papyrus leapt back in fear as they passed just a little too close to him for comfort. He threw the blue bones into the fray, mingling them with the gauntlets' path.

The Armor moved at such a high speed that the bones interrupting the gauntlets acted like a spanner in the works of quickly grinding gears. The Armor wobbled as the gauntlets slowed, striking every bone, until one of the gauntlets took too much pressure and simply exploded.

The other gauntlet swiped close to Papyrus, who ducked and covered his head with his hands, letting the metallic nails pass over him three times. He rolled out of the way once he realized the boots were gaining in proximity. Standing again, he forged the words "COOLEST DUDE EVER" out of bone, sending them to strike the boots. They tangled with the Armor's feet; one of the boots, the opposite from the missing gauntlet, burst.

The Armor shuddered all over. Its head, gauntlet, and boot flew far from its body. The central body turned itself upside-down; the boot reattached itself as a hand and the gauntlet as a foot. As the helmet settled back down, its jaw clanked open, revealing the Heartless' bright eyes.

"APPARENTLY THAT WAS NOT ALL YOU'VE GOT," Papyrus squeaked.

The Opposite Armor folded up, the wider end of its body pointed at Papyrus with the limbs and helmet flanking. A surge of magical energy balled up at the end of the body before shooting directly at Papyrus. Papyrus leapt, collapsing hard against the ground as the street behind him exploded into shrapnel. He pried his head up to see another blast charging up. As it loosed, Papyrus bolted as fast as he could away from the Armor, down the street as all the others had.

"NO!" he suddenly realized as the blast struck some feet behind him. "WHAT AM I DOING? I SHOULD NOT BE RUNNING! I CAME TO DEFEAT THIS HEARTLESS AND PROTECT PEOPLE FROM IT! I CAN'T JUST LET IT KEEP ON HURTING PEOPLE!" He stamped on the ground decisively. "THAT DOES IT! NO MORE RUNNING!" He spun on a heel to face his foe.

The Armor readied another enormous blast of magical energy.

Papyrus conjured a veritable forest of bones that sprouted up between himself and the Armor.

The Armor let its explosive fly, which turned out to be a mistake. The bones glowed bright blue. The magic plowed into them, was repelled by Papyrus' own brand of magic, and bounced right back at its origin. When it hit, the Opposite Armor was completely obliterated.

"I HOPE YOU HAVE LEARNED YOUR LESSON!" Papyrus taunted the empty air as the bones retreated into the ground.

The sound of distant clanking from behind let Papyrus know that even if this particular Armor had learned any sort of lesson at all, the others in the vicinity hadn't learned from example.

The dirigibles were in the midst of a hard fight. The Air Soldiers, Air Pirates, and Wyverns thronged, tearing at the mechanisms of the flying machines. And that was bad enough. But when the largest one of all materialized over the city, it threw the pilots into a panic. The creature resembled a skeletal dragon with wings that looked as though someone had welded four blades together on each side; it carried a treasure chest in its mouth, and three skulls waggled on the end of its tail. This tail whipped around, emitting blue projectiles that the dirigibles just weren't fast enough to escape. More than one plummeted at the mercy of the Ruler of the Sky.

As Stork looked out over the dashboard of the gummi ship that had taken him and his team to this world in the first place, he glared at the Ruler. "Don't get too comfortable," he muttered as he threw the ship into gear, aiming the cannons.

The Ruler knew it was being chased, and so turned and sailed away lazily, making a great loop around the city. Its tail blasted off blue sphere after blue sphere. Stork expertly steered the ship up, down, around, between two dirigibles, staying out of the way of all obstacles while keeping the Ruler in his sights. He opened fire on it with everything the ship had.

One of the skulls on the end of the Ruler's tail fractured and broke away. The Ruler spread its wings wide to halt in the midst of the sky, turning an about face and charging up an impressively large burst of magic between its wing-blades around front.

Stork squeaked as he turned the ship hard to avoid the massive explosion. The ship sailed around the Ruler, coming at it from the back.

The Ruler took off at a higher speed than its casual glide, shooting projectiles from its tail as it careened over the city. Stork had to throw the ship off course altogether, flying away from the Ruler as it turned around and charged back the direction it had come while letting more projectiles loose.

Stork waited for it to come back around a third time before calculating where its trajectory would take it and turning the cannons on that spot. Under the pressure of Stork's next barrage, the Ruler's second tail-skull crumbled. The Ruler retaliated immediately, pulling up next to the ship.

"Oh, no!" Stork screamed as he frantically pulled at the steering mechanism. "NO, NO, NO – "

BOOM.

The ship began to plummet toward the city below.

"Come on," Stork begged as he hauled the steering mechanism upward. "I KNOW we don't have the same relationship as me and the Condor, but I need you to work for me! DON'T LET ME DOWN, BABY!"

Moments before it would have careened into the rooftops below, the ship made a sharp turn upward.

"YES!" Stork cried. "I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT! Now let's finish off that Heartless." His smirk was practically malicious.

The Ruler had turned to using its larger attack on each of the floating dirigibles. Stork tried not to focus on the collapse of the vehicles around him and what that meant both for the pilots within and the people below. Instead, he kept his vision focused on the Ruler, waiting for it to land and charge up, waiting for its back to be turned.

It chose another dirigible, glowing brightly as its wings fanned out behind, making an open spot.

Stork's next shots hit the Ruler square in the back, between the wings, rather than on the tail. The charge of energy died against the Ruler's abdomen. It fell from the sky, wings flapping gracefully as it rocketed downward until it dissolved in the midst of the air, a heart rising from where it had fallen.

"TAAAAAKE THAT!" Stork whooped. "THAT ONE WAS FROM THE STORM HAWKS!" He took only a moment to feel satisfied with himself before glancing to the bottom of the dashboard and viewing the ground: "Now, if things were going a bit better on the ground…"

And directly below him, a Dustflier had landed. Shaped like a dragon and colored an earthy brown, it spat a host of fireballs into the air; they rained down upon the nearby homes, torching the rooftops.

"HEY!" Aang yelled to get the Dustflier's attention.

The great Heartless fixed its gaze upon Aang.

"LEAVE THIS CITY ALONE!" Aang yelled.

The Dustflier responded by opening its maw and letting loose a barrage of fireballs directly at Aang.

Aang sidestepped the first blast, but intentionally put himself in the way of the end of it, catching the fire in midair and holding onto it as he took a spin. He finished off by leaping and kicking out toward the Dustflier, sending the fireball into the Heartless' face.

The Dustflier was not perturbed. It leapt into the air, spreading its wings to do a backflip before landing on the ground hard enough to generate a magical shockwave that spread out from beneath it.

Caught off guard, Aang was flung against the nearest wall. There wasn't a spot on him that wasn't sore from that blow. He tottered back toward the Dustflier as it rose up for another flip.

Aang was determined not to let the Dustflier get away with this. He summoned a small cyclone of air to push himself upward, leaping to meet the Dustflier's exposed chest as it arced backward. Aang thrust out an arm, sweeping a swath of flame over the Dustflier's abdomen. But the Dustflier didn't even react, landing hard on the ground again and creating yet another shockwave. Aang boosted himself up on another small cyclone, only landing once the wave had passed.

"It's immune to fire," he realized.

When he touched ground, he stomped hard; the earth beneath the Dustflier fractured, flying up at the Heartless' belly in fragments. The Dustflier gave a great leap to land some distance away, hoping to hit Aang with another shockwave, but Aang was ready, riding a brief air current to jump high and long enough to not be affected. When his feet touched ground, more of the road beneath the Dustflier slammed up into the creature. They repeated the cycle, and Aang knew he had to act fast; when the Dustflier connected with the ground, Aang sent spears of stone upward. The Dustflier gave a sharp bark as it dissipated, its heart climbing into the heights of the sky.

The shockwave hurtled toward Aang, who had no time to dodge. He was thrown, rolling and skidding over the street, collecting bloody scrapes and bruises. But he was alive, and as he struggled into a standing position, that was what he focused on.

As he looked around, he beheld the sight of the burning city before him. Dread began to grow within him; even though he had won the battle against the Dustflier, was the war already lost?

But there was no time to think about that, as a Tailbunker, a Windstorm, and an Avalanche were winging their way down to take the Dustflier's place.

One of the town squares had been taken up by an enormous Leechgrave: a Heartless that propped itself up on thorny vines as limbs, a pink blossom at the top and a chained coffin dangling from down below. Dark tendrils sprouted up from the network of roots it was putting underground, chasing down civilians with their claw-like appendages.

Ruby arrived in the square just in time to see someone be completely swallowed by one of the tendrils, a huge person-sized lump moving rapidly down the vine until the person was lost belowground.

The sight of someone becoming completely devoured by the Leechgrave flipped a switch in Ruby. Her confidence was shaken by a heavy dose of horror; she stared in shock as more of the tendrils sprouted, turning in her general direction. But this horror solidified and forged into something more tangible: anger, and the drive to utilize it.

With a scream of "EEEEEYAAAAAAAGH!", Ruby burst forward, slicing through the tentacle-claws ("tentaclaws" in her mind, and the name was not inaccurate) with Crescent Rose and leaving the severed remains in her wake. She arrived directly beneath the blossom, twirling her scythe at the coffin and striking it over and over again, leaving dents and breaking one of the chains.

A sudden burst of purple energy spheres surprised her, but she easily darted out of its way, her speed working to her advantage. Crescent Rose whirled; the next chain on the coffin was severed.

Ruby's occupation with the coffin distracted her to the appearance of another tentaclaw behind her. She only noticed it when it latched onto her head, gobbling her up whole.

She held tight to Crescent Rose as she was pulled through an impossibly tight space, with no room to swing her weapon. The terror that this might be her end surged through her. She squirmed violently, taken on a ride directly down and then back up. Before she knew it, she was spit out the top of the blossom, thrown high into the air above the Leechgrave.

There was no time to wonder what had just happened. Ruby spun in midair, converting Crescent Rose to a rifle as quickly as she could and aiming it downward. Her ammunition hit directly in the center of the blossom over and over again; she saw the Leechgrave shudder. Her feet touched down atop the blossom's folded petals.

The blossom spat a cloud of purple smog; Ruby coughed, fearing what toxins she might be inhaling. The world swam about her; she focused only on Crescent Rose, shifting its components to unfurl the scythe blade once more. Making a leap down, she plunged the tip of the scythe into the side of the blossom, tearing it as she slid down. She dropped to the street as the Leechgrave collapsed.

Ruby held Crescent Rose high over the coffin that lay before her. With one last decisive scream, she brought the scythe down hard on the box and sundered it. The Leechgrave's vines folded in on themselves; the blossom exploded into a cloud of violet smog. A heart spun up into the sky from the coffin's center.

Focus was coming back to Ruby, the world less blurred around her as she breathed cleaner air. And with that focus came a view of three Assault Riders: centaur-like Heartless with spears held high.

"Bring it on," Ruby muttered as she drew Crescent Rose back.

Sora cut down Heartless after Heartless, slightly flummoxed by some of them. The Ferocious Fins had gone down without much of a fight, but Sora did not understand why a Large Body had dressed up in a shark costume in order to come to the party. He battled his way into another open square, which was empty – suspiciously so.

The shimmer of transparent walls went up, fencing him into the square. The ground rumbled before the massive Heartless burst up out of the ground, spraying stone everywhere; Sora batted the debris away with the Keyblade to prevent injury. The beast spun, its six arms and curved blades whirling before it came to a stop, standing tall, a shimmering multicolored aura washing over it.

"Oh, no," Sora moaned as he beheld Kurt Zisa's snapping jaws and undulating limbs. "Not this guy!"

Kurt Zisa advanced, blades cutting through the air. Sora quickly parried, striking at each blade over and over to block it from reaching him. Doubt trickled into him; he had defeated one of these before, but only with Donald and Goofy at his side. How would he fare alone?

He dropped, rolled, attempted to cast a Fire spell at Zisa. When no flames appeared, Sora remembered how the Zisa he had fought had silenced his magic in the past. Two of the arms not clutching blades were holding orbs of pure Darkness. Yes, Sora thought, it was coming back to him. He sent the Keyblade spinning toward one of these orbs, beating the hand that held it over and over as he caught the Keyblade on the rebound and threw it once more. The first orb burst apart, but Sora was forced to quickly abandon his position as one of the blades slammed down on where he had stood.

He rushed around the perimeter of the square, careful not to fall into the pit from whence Zisa had burst; it looked pretty deep. Another round of Strike Raiding took care of Zisa's second orb; Sora then moved again to avoid another blow. Now with magic at his disposal, he cast Fire, Thunder, Fire, Thunder, Blizzard, as much as he could rapidly.

A glimmering iridescent shield formed over Zisa, blocking out most of the attacks. By the time Sora remembered what came next, it was too late. The square had filled up with orbs of fire, which were rapidly exploding; while Sora was able to evade two, the blasts from the others near him forced him off balance, causing him to fall into the pit.

He cast a quick Aero to cushion his fall, then landed at the pit's bottom, some twenty feet below. Zisa rose and formed a wheel with its body, beginning to spin into the pit like a miter saw blade.

Sora panicked. What could he do? Not give up, he knew. His friends were counting on him, and he knew that elsewhere in the city, they were fighting their hardest. Keeping Ruby, Papyrus, Jasmine, Stork, Katara, Zuko, and Aang in mind, Sora braced himself for a risky move.

Zisa plowed into the earth below. As he spun toward Sora, Sora leapt, grabbing onto Zisa by the neck. In this manner, Sora rode Zisa up out of the pit.

Zisa spun frantically, colliding with the barrier around the square like a pinball with the edges of its machine as it tried to dislodge Sora. Sora kept ahold of Zisa with one hand, chopping at the bases of Zisa's limbs with the Keyblade with the other. This strategy took some time, and as Sora's arm tired, he nearly dropped off several times. He knew, however, that to let go would be to invite death. As time wore on, Sora carved away each of Zisa's limbs, dizzying himself thoroughly in the process.

Zisa dropped to the ground on the edge of the pit; Sora finally fell off, nearly collapsing. But no, he reminded himself, he had to finish this fight. He had to survive it for his friends: not only those on the battlefield, but those who hadn't come with him on this mission: Riku, Kairi, Jaune, the rest. Though the world was spinning round and round and his limbs shook, he forced his feet forward.

Zisa's cobra-shaped head lay stretched out on its chest, jaws snapping weakly. Sora jumped, performed a spin, and decapitated Zisa in one motion. As Sora's feet hit the ground, he was too woozy to notice Zisa's captive heart fly away. He only wanted the invisible barrier to come down, and as soon as it did, he barged through it, back into the streets. He had to keep fighting. He had to. No matter how badly his body begged to lay down and give up.

The area in front of the palace was relatively undisturbed. Zuko had to cut down a Neo-Shadow here and there, but so far, nothing big had reached the heart of the city. That was because, as Zuko soon found out, the biggest thing of all was making its way. An enormous Heartless, shaped like a cross between a dragon and cattle, stomped down the thoroughfare, a second body that was vaguely humanoid sitting tall atop its back. Had Zuko known its name, he would have thought it appropriate that this beast was called "Groundshaker." The Groundshaker whipped its head from side to side, crashing it into walls with bursts of flame leaking from around its eyes.

It was yet distant, but Zuko knew if he didn't stop it well before it reached the palace, he knew he would have rubble on his hands. He bolted down the thoroughfare, both hands blazing with fire, ready to meet it head-on.

As the Groundshaker's head swept across the street, Zuko leapt, springing off the nose and forehead to get on its back. There was a street's worth of ground, a grassy lawn peppered with trees, on the back of the beast: a testament to its size. The humanoid body that sat atop the larger one charged up a burst of electricity once it saw Zuko; Zuko sidestepped so it barely missed him.

"Lightning," he muttered. The Heartless had just chosen to play the wrong game. Zuko put all of his focus into his next move. It had to count.

The Groundshaker's smaller body zapped another burst of lightning at Zuko; Zuko caught it with one hand, letting it course through his body before he redirected it right back at the smaller body. The blast hit home, and the smaller body vanished. Zuko thought at first he had vanquished it, but then he saw its faint outline, transparent, charging him from the side of the bigger body's back –

It collided, and Zuko nearly tumbled right off the Groundshaker. Skidding to a halt just before he would have slid over the edge, Zuko danced around the small grassy outcrop, avoiding strike after strike from the smaller body. All the while, the Groundshaker grew closer to the palace. If a decisive move wasn't made, it would trample the palace into debris.

The smaller body shifted back into view, charging up more lightning. This time, when Zuko caught it, he redirected it at the head of the larger body.

That proved to be the Groundshaker's undoing. It let out a great cry, crumpling to the ground. Zuko ran down over its head and leapt onto the street just before it dissolved, tossing the smaller body to explode into no more than a floating heart mid-dive. Now back at the palace gates, Zuko stopped to catch his breath, bending over and resting his hands on his knees.

"Well, well. If it ain't the family disgrace."

Zuko's head snapped upward. Facilier stood directly before him, staring him down with a grin. Flanking him, however, were the faces that made Zuko's heart nearly stop: Zhao and Ozai.

Behind them, the WHAM ARMY captives were polishing off the last of the soldiers they'd encountered on the path. Vexen froze one into a block of ice, Wuya slammed an entire wall down on three soldiers, Xayide ran one through with a pike, the Huntsman decapitated one, and Mim bowled down two in the form of an Ursa. When the area was clear, they backed up their captors, looking all too happy about the destruction they had caused (save for Vexen, whose expression remained as though he had a sour taste in his mouth, and the Huntsman, who was, as usual, unreadable).

"Zuko," Ozai greeted, his voice slick. "What do you think you are doing?"

"Defending the capital from you," Zuko answered, trying not to give away the way his body was quaking, his heart was racing, his mind was exploding with panic. "Just like I've had to defend the rest of the world from you."

"Stand down," Ozai commanded, "and you may just live."

"No," Zuko said firmly, balling up his fists. "If I die trying to stop you from destroying this city, then I die with honor! These used to be your people! Why are you turning on them now?"

"Because in order to maintain the throne after all you have done to ruin my name," Ozai explained, "I must prove that I am a force to be feared."

"A force to be feared!" Zuko snapped. "You don't even have your bending! You let Zhao and these other people do all the work for you!" He glared back at the WHAM ARMY. "And if what I heard is right, most of them don't even support you."

"You're not wrong," Wuya retorted, "though you know more than you should."

"Do we really have to leave him alone if he stands down?" Mim asked as she reverted to human shape. "It would be such fun to rip him to shreds!"

"You won't have to worry about that." Zuko shifted a foot back into a defensive stance. "Because I am NEVER going to stand down. Not until your evil is OVER."

"Where did I fail with you?" Ozai wondered out loud.

"Stop chitchatting and just kill him already!" Zhao set both his hands afire. "I'll do it myself if I have to!"

There was a sudden chorus of cries of "ZUKO!"

Zuko looked to the left and saw Jasmine, Katara, and Papyrus racing toward him. From the right, Sora, Aang, and Ruby bolted in his direction. The six could already tell that Zuko was in trouble, and they huddled up around him, facing their foes with gazes set in stone.

"Who's this?" Sora asked.

"My father and his general," Zuko answered.

Sora shifted, stepping out in front of Zuko. "You won't get any closer to him!" he barked.

"If you wanna get Zuko," Ruby added as she fell in line next to Sora, "you're gonna have to go through us!"

"ALL of us," Jasmine insisted as she stepped in on Sora's other side.

Zuko was astonished as Papyrus, Aang, and Katara moved out in front of him as well. Aang and Katara, he could understand, but the others had known him for such a short time. To know they would defend him warmed his heart greatly, inspiring heat within him that he knew would translate to battle.

"Hey, you!" Aang suddenly pointed at Facilier. "You're the one keeping the others trapped in those rings so they'll work for you! You can't do that!"

"Says the child," Facilier mocked. "I'll do what I please, thank you very much. Ain't often I get to do that with no strings attached."

"You have to let them go!" Aang insisted.

"You realize you are asking me to free murderers!" Facilier taunted. "How dumb are ya, boy?"

"I don't care!" Aang barked. "They're as human as us, and they don't deserve to be your captives!"

"This is going nowhere fast," Facilier sighed. "Just get rid of 'em all."

"We seem to have been strangely on the same page for the past while we have been together," Vexen said with a grin.

Mim cackled as she transformed into a creature she had only heard about from tales told by Zhao, lurching forward in the body of a badgermole. The Huntsman, Wuya, and Zhao flew at the group while Vexen and Xayide stood back to provide long-range cover. Ozai and Facilier discreetly moved to the rear of the group.

Sora charged past the Huntsman, Wuya, and Facilier, swinging his Keyblade directly at Vexen. "I owe you one for what you did to Kairi!" he yelled.

"A familiar rivalry," Vexen said in mock wistfulness. "Had I a heart, I might be nostalgic for this moment." A wall of icy spikes rose up to Sora's left; Sora leapt to avoid getting impaled. "But you would remember none of our old spars, would you?" A wall to Sora's left; Sora jumped and closed the distance between himself and Vexen, his blade locking against Vexen's shield. "Naminé took care of that little loose end. Was it her meddling that did you in, or your own foolishness? You never will recall Castle Oblivion. And as such, you will never recall how you very nearly left all your friends behind to mourn you as you perished chasing a fantasy."

"Shut up!" Sora barked, blade clashing against Vexen's shield hard enough that Vexen was forced to pace backward. "You're just trying to freak me out! I'm not gonna fall for it!"

His feet slid out from underneath him; Vexen had created a frozen puddle over the ground Sora stood on. As Sora landed flat on his back, his body now begging him just to stay in that position, Vexen leaned over him. "I would say this is in the name of Mozenrath, or by command of Dr. Facilier," he announced, "but in truth, this is only what you had coming to you for making a fool of me all that time ago."

Sora desperately rolled away as a cluster of icy spikes sprang up from where he had lay. He struggled to his knees, then using the Keyblade as a crutch to hoist himself to his feet. "I'm not done yet!" he announced as he made another swing, trying to move around Vexen and strike him where the shield wouldn't cover. Vexen pivoted to match his blows, and they struck again and again, key against shield.

Sora was not the only one who was battle-weary. The others had all made their way to the palace because after their initial victories, the endless onslaught of Heartless had overwhelmed them. Katara had fought the greater tide of Shadows as long as she could before she was forced to retreat, muscles aching. Still, when Wuya rushed at the team, she retrieved the water from her flask, using it to cover both hands. Wuya lifted into the air, spinning round and round; when she descended, one leg extended elegantly to knock its unlucky victim back. Katara caught Wuya's foot in both hands, swinging the Heylin witch around and throwing her against the palace steps.

Wuya threw a burst of pure magic at Katara; Katara ducked beneath it, lashing out, making whips of water that slapped at Wuya. The water encircled Wuya's hands, freezing into ice. Wuya's magic was momentarily quelled; the witch looked at her hands in bewilderment before lighting her fingers up with hot magic that shattered the ice.

"You have power," she remarked. "You might just be on the wrong side. I could see a young Heylin apprentice made out of you."

Katara was momentarily brought back to a night in the woods, facing an old woman who had cultivated Katara's darker side. "You have no idea," Katara said coldly before leaping out of the way of another flame of magic.

As the Huntsman barreled toward his targets, Ruby charged right back at him. "YOU!" she cried as Crescent Rose locked with the huntstaff. "You're the one who tried to kill Asgore and Papyrus!"

"A fight I now have the chance to finish," the Huntsman growled as he looked over Ruby's shoulder at Papyrus.

The momentary diversion was a mistake; Ruby spun Crescent Rose backward, slamming its outer edge into the Huntsman's stomach and forcing him back. He geared up a bright blast of emerald energy at staff's end; Ruby darted this way and that, making for an impossible target to shoot. Before he could decide where to let loose, she had gotten behind him, now whacking him with Crescent Rose from behind. He stumbled forward before turning to slash at her with the huntstaff; the two weapons clashed again and again. Ruby only hoped the Huntsman didn't know what to make of the red Aura that washed over her, patching up her bumps and bruises from the Heartless that had forced her to retreat after the Leechgrave.

"Leave the skeleton to me," Xayide said calmly. "I shall make sure he is disposed of." At her behest, a rain of red drops of magic fell from the sky, zeroing in on Papyrus.

Papyrus caught each on the length of a blue bone, feeling the draw on the magic that composed his very being as he called further and further upon it. "THAT DOES IT!" he cried. "YOU'RE BLUE NOW!"

Xayide looked down, finding herself covered in a faint blue glow that seemed to serve absolutely no purpose. "Blue isn't my color," she said casually as she called an armada of bladed weapons into the air.

The blades shot directly for Papyrus, who was surrounded by a shield of swirling bones that deflected every single one. "YOU CALL THAT AN ATTACK?" he scoffed. "UNDYNE USES TWICE THAT MUCH DURING OUR SPARS!"

Xayide kept pummeling Papyrus, and he kept the shield twirling. One bone, however, flickered and disappeared: a sign that Papyrus' weariness was affecting his ability to keep the shield up. A single spear passed through the slot it left, barely grazing Papyrus, frightening him more than anything else. He immediately filled the slot, worried now that others would appear and leave him open.

Zhao rushed Zuko directly, only for Jasmine to plant herself directly between the two. "What do YOU bend?" Zhao taunted. "Fire? Water?"

"I don't need to bend," Jasmine told him as she held her spear outward like a quarterstaff.

"You're going to regret this," Zhao told her as he swung one fire-coated fist.

Jasmine ducked it, swinging the blunt end of the spear's staff at Zhao's stomach. It collided; he grunted. Zhao lifted one leg and planted it on Jasmine's back to force her down as he aimed both hands at her; she wrested herself from that hold, rolling away as the fire rained down. The spear was next swung at Zhao's legs to try and throw him off balance; he leapt over the shaft, loosing another fireball at Jasmine as he touched down. She rolled again, letting the fire impact the ground inches away. She then drove the spear point into the ground and used it to hoist herself up in a fluid movement, taking note of the aches and pains that wracked her spine. Before Zhao had time to react, she surged forward, decking him in the face.

While Jasmine and Zhao played cat and mouse, Zuko found himself dealing with the great badgermole known as Mim. She swiped out with a claw. Zuko, hands aflame, blocked the blow with pure fire; Mim withdrew her paw, screeching, "OUCH! OUCH! YEEEEOUCH! YOU'LL PAY FOR THAT! I'LL BE READY FOR THE NEXT ONE!"

Zuko took that opportunity to let the next flames flow toward Mim's head. She opened her mouth, inhaling deeply; the fire was sucked into her maw. She closed her jaws and made a few chewing motions before spitting the fire right back at Zuko. He fell on his back as the flames rushed over him, warming his skin. Mim then lumbered atop him, cackling madly as she held up a paw with sharp claws, ready to rend Zuko in two.

Zuko kicked both feet up at Mim's chest, calling up more fire from his legs. Mim was struck in the heart, and she wasn't ready for that blast. "YOUUUUUU!" she screamed as she staggered back on her two hind legs, patting out the fire in her fur with her claws.

Zuko scrambled up, punching fireball after fireball at Mim. She surrounded her claws in defensive magic, batting the bursts away. "If you like fire so much," she taunted, "maybe you should be BURNED ALIVE!"

Zuko threw himself backward as a column of flame erupted from beneath where he stood. Mim howled with laughter to herself as Zuko grit his teeth.

While his friends fought with tooth and nail, Aang flung himself toward Facilier. "And what exactly do you intend to do to me?" Facilier asked as he elegantly sidestepped out of Aang's path. "Burn me alive? Drown me? No, I know you. You wouldn't hurt a little old fly." Aang stumbled as he stopped beside Facilier. "You ain't gonna touch me."

"I'm not after you," Aang said calmly, glancing at Facilier's hand. He inhaled deeply, then let the breath out decisively.

"I think you're forgetting who's the power behind the Heartless in this city," Facilier reminded Aang. He struck the ground with his cane, and a Defender Heartless sprang up between Aang and himself.

Aang ducked around the Defender's chomping shield, striking it with a slash of fire; the Heartless dissolved. All the while, Aang's mind was on a friend of his: a certain earthbender who had perfected the art of bending metal. If she could do it, then Aang could, he supposed, though it would take concentration. It helped that the stones set in the rings he wanted were also a form of earth.

Aang thrust a hand toward Facilier and beckoned. To his surprise, Facilier felt the hand adorned with the rings that kept his five captives at his beck fly out to meet Aang's. He tried in vain to close his fingers and keep the rings in place, but Aang's pull was strong and his concentration solid.

It took an exorbitant amount of effort, but Aang called the rings right off Facilier's fingers; they sailed across the distance to land in Aang's palm. From there, his task was even more difficult. He had only energybent once, when he removed Zhao's bending. And he didn't even know if energybending would solve this problem. But at least Aang wouldn't walk away from this battle having said he never tried. His fist closed over the rings as his body rose from the ground, the arrows on his head and hands gleaming.

The battle was momentarily halted as all were distracted by Aang's entry into the Avatar State.

"KILL HIM NOW!" Ozai bellowed. "IF HE DIES IN THIS STATE, HE WILL NEVER REINCARNATE!"

The Huntsman was the first to try and move, but Crescent Rose curled around his chest from behind, keeping him back. Vexen threw a sharp icicle, which Sora melted out of the air with a Firaga spell. Xayide was prevented from striking by a blow to the back from the bony words "DON'T BE MEAN!". Zuko simply set Mim on fire again, making her focus on putting out the flames. Katara froze Wuya's feet to the ground and encased her hands in ice once more: a temporary solution, but one that worked just long enough. Jasmine grasped Zhao's neck from behind and put him in a headlock; she wasn't strong enough to hold him for long, but once again, it was long enough for Aang to accomplish what he needed to.

At the behest of the Avatar, the five souls encased in the rings burst free from containment, flying toward their true owners in the form of brilliant balls of light. A sphere glid toward and connected with Vexen, the Huntsman, Wuya, Xayide, and Mim each, absorbing into the host bodies.

With his work done, Aang left the Avatar State, weary from the effort he had spent on his specialized bending but satisfied with what he had done.

"Our souls have returned!" Xayide cried.

"We're back in control," Wuya said with a smirk. "And you know what that means." She marched toward Facilier and Ozai. "Time to get scared."

"Oh, I've been waiting to be able to do this for a LONG time!" Mim cackled as she approached Facilier.

"Get revenge if you must." The Huntsman spun to press the tip of the huntstaff to Ruby's stomach. "I would rather fell our longtime foes here and now."

"I would agree that if we do not take care of them now, we will regret it later," Xayide said as her hands charged up with electric magic.

"NO!" Vexen barked. "This is NOT our fight! The longer we linger here, the sooner Mozenrath perishes! He may already be dead! If you truly wish to save him, don't waste your time here!" He cast a Corridor leading to safety outside the city. "But if revenge is more important to you than he is, by all means, stay." He strode haughtily into the Corridor he had created.

The others didn't need to be told again. The Huntsman, Xayide, Mim, and Wuya barreled after him, the latter shutting the Corridor so none could follow.

"Looks like all your bodyguards but one flew the coop!" Sora taunted Facilier. He, Ruby, Papyrus, Jasmine, Aang, Katara, and Zuko regrouped.

"Is that true, now?" Facilier asked, striding toward the group.

"That one is enough," Zhao said wickedly, readying more flame at his fingertips.

Facilier held up a hand to halt Zhao. "Now, let's not be hasty." His eyes flickered over his foes, and for the first time, he could truly see the wear and tear his battle had put upon them. A black eye forming on Aang's face. Ruby's crimson Aura clocking overtime to patch her skin. Zuko's shortness of breath. The way Sora's arms drooped with the Keyblade in them. The way Papyrus leaned slightly to one side. A torn sleeve revealing a vivid scrape on Katara's arm. Abrasions coming into color around Jasmine's neck. "Y'all are tired, aren't ya?" Facilier asked. "It's been a long fight. Y'all are weary. Bet y'all wish ya could just lie down and close y'all's eyes for a spell. Go on. I wouldn't blame ya. You ain't gonna win this fight, anyway. Might as well just make your last moments as comfortable as ya can. And if ya close your eyes, you won't never see y'all's last moments comin'."

"What makes you think we won't win?" Katara snapped.

Facilier spread his arms wide. Springing from the Darkness that surrounded him, a Guard Armor and a Stealth Sneak flanked him while an Avalanche hovered above. Shadows twisted into Demon Towers behind.

The worn-out heroes' hearts sank. They knew there was no way they could carry on fighting in such intensity.

"Because I know y'all've already lost," Facilier said confidently.

A high-pitched BEEEEEEEEP sounded from above. All heads snapped upward to see the source.

At the helm of the gummi ship, Stork shook his head. "THAT'S the horn I'm working with?" He sighed. It was nowhere as deep or iconic as the Condor's. But it had done its job. He steered the ship directly down over his friends, keeping one hand on the steering mechanism as he stretched out to kick the side door open. He tilted the ship just enough that the door was within reach without the ship grazing the ground or the palace.

Sora gratefully hopped in, followed by Aang, Katara, Zuko, Papyrus, Ruby, and Jasmine. As Stork pulled the ship upward to take off, Zhao made a leap, grabbing onto the edges of the door to follow inside.

Jasmine's shoe planted hard into his face, and Zhao, startled, let go of the door. The ship zoomed upward without him; Jasmine slammed the door.

"All right, Stork!" Sora cheered.

"Where are we going?" Aang asked in a panic.

"You know this world better than me," Stork told him. "Where are we going to be safe?"

"We're just running away?" Aang replied, dismayed.

"Can we do anything ELSE?" Stork countered.

"But the people of the Fire Nation!" Aang argued. "We can't just leave them!"

"Do you expect me to board them all on this ship?" Stork snapped. "This ship is barely built to hold ten people, and there are eight of us on it now! There's no time to organize an evacuation! I'M JUST SAVING WHO I CAN!"

"Stork," Katara said softly, "please…"

Stork forced himself to calm down, breathing steadily. "I'm saving who I can," he repeated. "I'm not letting any of you get hurt anymore. You already look pretty bad for wear. We're going somewhere you can rest. I'm sorry we have to leave the city this way, but there is NOTHING WE CAN DO."

"But…" Aang grasped for an argument and found he had none.

"You can take us to the Western Air Temple," Katara volunteered. "I'll tell you the way."

The ship soared off into the darkness of the night, leaving the Fire Nation Capital to burn in its wake.

...

"You didn't mention it was a JUICE bar," Roman muttered as he followed Scarlet, Herb, Snatcher, Rémington, Grany, and Neo into the establishment, which was characterized by neon lights, pastel paint, and cushy barstools. A luminescent jukebox played a jaunty tune in the corner. "Are you trying to kill me of non-alcohol poisoning?" Roman continued to groan.

"It's open all night, it's empty, and it's serving some form of drinks," Scarlet reminded him. "Nowhere else in town fills the bill."

"Fine," Roman huffed. "First order of business, I need to hit the can."

"Me too, actually," Herb added.

"Bathroom breaks for everyone," Scarlet mandated, "then we sit down, we order, and we talk."

The bathrooms would only accommodate one person each, so the group alternated. As the others stood in line for the bathroom Roman had just exited, Roman wandered over to the jukebox. It offered a selection of songs that Roman recognized from his time in Knightdock and trading memes with Peter. Unfolding a few bills he'd liberated from the Wickford locker room, Roman made his selection; an obnoxiously bouncy song filled the bar.

At last, the seven were seated: Grany at the far end, then Rémington, then Herb, then Scarlet, then Snatcher, then Roman, then Neo. All ordered concoctions of brilliant colors; Roman slid a few more bills toward the barista. "A tip for staying out of our business," he announced.

The barista served up the drinks, then moved to the back room to clean up the dishes from the earlier crowd. Only when all seven drinks were on the table and the server out of sight did Snatcher dare broach sensitive subjects.

"To begin," he said, "what brings you here, Madame Overkill?"

"Well, I'm not exactly a local," Scarlet answered.

Rémington started at that. "That seems to be a popular euphemism," he pointed out.

"Euphemism?" Scarlet was caught off guard; were they onto her?

"For being from another world, Madame Overkill," Snatcher said plainly.

"If you know about that," Scarlet stated, "you have to be from another one yourself."

"We originate from three, and have made a home that is not tied to any," Snatcher informed her. "Now that we have the truth out of the way, please continue."

"Well, to make a long story short, Herb and I tried to run a heist on our homeworld and we basically ended up ruined, with nothing to our names anymore," Scarlet said coldly. "So when we heard about certain laboratories experimenting with interdimensional travel, we made our last crime on that world to hijack their equipment. We thought a change of scenery might improve our luck."

"And has it?" Snatcher asked.

"You tell me," Scarlet replied. "You caught us in the middle of our first heist here."

"So what's your story?" Herb asked. "Are you some kind of crime syndicate?"

"More or less," Snatcher informed him. "My companions and I belong to a group we call the 'WHAM ARMY.'"

"I dig the name," Herb said with a smile.

"Does it mean something?" Scarlet asked.

"The initials of the founding members," Snatcher explained. "Most of whom you do not see here, but of whom Torchwick and I are two. We have assembled from many worlds and are of a fair size in number. Our goals are conquest and acquisition of whatever we want that does not already belong to us. We have employed all manner of science, magic, and brute force in this goal."

"Magic!" Scarlet repeated.

"Magic," Snatcher affirmed with a nod. "There is more to this universe than you yet know, Madame Overkill, and we are privy to it."

"Well, a lot of the technology on this world already seems like magic to me," Scarlet admitted. "I'm ready to believe just about anything. There are even rumors of real magic on this world, though I haven't actually seen anything in action."

"Now, I would not say the WHAM ARMY is constantly looking to increase its ranks," Snatcher went on, "but we did begin as merely eight, and have expanded through alliances made on the worlds we have traveled to. If you are kindred spirits, there just may be room for you both among our numbers."

"Scarlet and I are all about conquest," Herb asserted. "That was the whole point of the heist that went wrong."

"Not to mention we're practically card-carrying supervillains," Scarlet added. "If you have room, please, PLEASE consider us. Not that I'm begging."

"But we really still don't have anywhere else to call home," Herb confessed.

"The fact that you kicked all our asses but Neo's in about sixty seconds flat adds to your résumé," Roman pointed out. "And no, no one expects you to be able to beat Neo. Ever."

"So, with that established – " Snatcher attempted.

"Hang on," Scarlet interrupted. "Is it just me or is this song a lot longer than I remember it being?"

"It just played twice," Herb and Roman said in unison before looking at each other with suspicion.

"Why would it…" Scarlet trailed off. "Never mind. I know why."

"Torchwick," Snatcher sighed, "you didn't."

"This song is a meme in music form!" Roman laughed. "It's just that ridiculous! So while the rest of you were lined up for the can, I bought twenty-one plays of it."

"Hey, that's funny," Herb replied. "When I heard this song playing, I thought it would be hilarious to put it on a loop, so I bought twenty-one plays of it."

Neo pointed to herself, indicating that she, too, had loaded the jukebox up with plays of the same song.

"So this song is going to play sixty-one times," Rémington stated in awe as Snatcher groaned and rubbed his temples.

"Welcome to life with Torchwick and Miss Neopolitan," Snatcher sighed.

"Make that welcome to life with Herb," Scarlet chimed in, looking at Rémington. "But the good outweighs the bad infinitely." Looking Rémington over, she said suddenly, "I'm sorry, but that outfit just doesn't work with that half-cape thing you have going on. Have you ever considered maybe wearing a full-length cape?"

"It crossed my mind," Rémington grumbled.

"Back to business," Snatcher said sharply.

Scarlet spun on her stool to face him. "I just realized something," she stated. "You said the WHAM ARMY was the founders' initials, and that included you. But that doesn't have a P or an F. Unless they're somehow silent."

"Well," Snatcher admitted, "you're going to need to know that what you see of me now is only part of my identity. For the most part, I'm known by a different name, wearing a different wardrobe, speaking in a different voice…being a different gender."

Scarlet and Herb's eyes widened at this. "So…I don't want to be rude," Scarlet said tentatively, "but I'm a little curious. What's the name you usually go by?"

"Archibald Snatcher," Snatcher replied. "And when it is appropriate, you shall refer to me as 'Mr. Snatcher.' Should our relationship progress to something more informal, you may drop the honorific. You are not to call me 'Archibald,' and you are most certainly not to refer to me as 'Archie.' Only ONE person is allowed the latter."

Roman snapped his fingers and pointed to himself.

"And…your voice?" Scarlet asked.

Snatcher glanced around to make sure there were no other patrons in the bar and the barista was out of sight. In a very low tone, he let Frou Frou's accent drop, slipping into his natural timbre: "It sounds very much like this."

"OOH!" Scarlet squealed. "I LOVE your accent! Not, like, in a weird way. It's just…well, who doesn't love a British accent? It makes you sound so sophisticated!"

Snatcher had to admit to himself he felt flattered by that comment. "Thank you very much, Madame Overkill," he replied, flipping the switch back to Frou Frou. "Though I will be staying in character within the walls of this establishment, should there be eavesdroppers about."

"Totally understandable," Herb said with a nod.

"Just one last question, if you don't mind," Scarlet said. "I really don't know how to put this, but…are you a queen, or are you, you know…"

"Trans?" Roman supplied.

Scarlet nodded at Roman's term, which was the most concise way she'd ever heard the concept put.

"Dressing as Madame Frou Frou is most certainly freeing," Snatcher confessed, "and she composes a part of my identity that is indelible. However, I am very much a man in women's clothing."

"Got it," Scarlet said with a nod. "I would NEVER have guessed if you didn't tell me, by the way. I think you might be the best queen I've ever seen."

"Amen to that," Herb added.

"You know," Roman broke in, "it is REALLY rude to just ask if someone's trans."

Scarlet looked away sheepishly. "Sorry – "

"But on that note," Roman continued, "say, oh, I don't know, that Ar – that Madame Frou Frou WERE trans, you'd be okay with that, right? You wouldn't have any problems with that, would you?"

Neo reached over to pinch Roman's thigh, increasing the pressure to try and get him to stop talking.

"Well, no," Scarlet answered. "I was just curious, but it doesn't make a difference."

"Good," Roman said. "And…the rest of you. WHAM ARMY veterans. You're all cool with it, right?"

"Well…yes," Snatcher answered, perplexed.

"Yeah," Rémington said as Grany nodded. "Is there a reason you're so invested in this?"

"No real reason," Roman tried to say casually as Neo's fingers tightened on his thigh. "I just want to make sure that if someone DID happen to be trans, they wouldn't have to worry about catching any shit for – DAMMIT, NEO!" Roman, having had enough of Neo's pinching, forwent doing the sensible thing (changing the subject) and instead slammed his hands on the bar as he stood, looking down at Neo. "Will you STOP IT? Just because I accidentally outed you five times does NOT mean I'm going to do it a sixth!"

Neo gasped, clapping both hands over her mouth, eyes bulging.

Roman could feel the additional bewildered stares of Snatcher, Scarlet, Herb, Rémington, and Grany as well, and he realized what he had just said. "…Or maybe it does," he said sheepishly. "I don't suppose an apology – "

Neo's elbow jammed right into Roman's groin, causing him to double over and clutch the bar for support.

"That's a no," Roman wheezed.

"So, wait," Rémington said as Roman tried to settle back down on the barstool. "Does this mean she – "

"Whatever bullshit is about to come out of your mouth," Roman growled, "it doesn't get an answer, Rémy."

"But I just want to know if – "

"IT DOESN'T GET AN ANSWER." Roman pointed an accusing finger over the entire crowd. "And if any of you so much as misgender her, let alone give her hell over this…well, I'd threaten to beat the shit out of you, but the truth is, she'll get to you and kill you first." He then looked to Snatcher. "Except you. You'll get a very stern talking-to, but no beating."

"I appreciate the sentiment," Snatcher replied. "Though, rest assured, Mademoiselle Neopolitan, as a trusted friend and accomplice, I have no intention of turning this…revelation against you." Now there was something he never would have said if it were Trout, Pickles, or Gristle, Snatcher realized. How the tides did turn.

Neo, face red as Scarlet's gown, put her head in her hands and her elbows on the bar, hiding her eyes.

"Neo?" Scarlet attempted. "Honey? It's okay. It really doesn't make a difference. If I offend you, you have every right to take out revenge on me. Well, I mean, I'd prefer if you didn't kill me, but just give me what I have coming without going that far."

"Same goes for me," Herb chimed in.

Scarlet reached around Snatcher and Roman, stretching her arm across the bar. "We women villains have to stick together," she insisted. "It's the only way we're going to make it when men try to dominate the villain business."

Neo parted two fingers to eye up Scarlet's hand. After some deliberation, she reached out and grasped Scarlet's hand in a gesture of solidarity, hoping this boded well for their friendship and wasn't the gateway to a tragic ending in which Neo found herself forced to murder either Overkill.

"Yes," Rémington tried again, "but – "

"REMY, IF YOU DON'T SHUT UP, I WILL STAB YOU," Roman snarled.

"Okay," Rémington relented. "No questions."

Roman put a casual arm around Neo's shoulders. "Look, I may be an idiot, but I'm an idiot who's got your back," he attempted.

Neo shrugged his arm away while still gripping Scarlet's hand. Roman got the message. He knew he and Neo would patch up their relationship later anyhow, just as they'd done the last five times. He turned his thoughts to wondering if he could discreetly slip any of the ice cubes from his drink down his pants to ease the pain she'd left him with.

"We are diverting greatly from the business at hand," Snatcher reminded the entire group. "Madame and Monsieur Overkill, I wish to know the exact details of this spectacularly failed heist that led you to pursue travel to other worlds."

Scarlet dropped Neo's hand gently, settling in on her seat. "Well," she sighed, "it all started when I decided to recruit new minions to help me steal the crown of the queen of England. Because, as I have insisted many times, if I had the crown, that would make me a princess, and everyone would have to like me."

"A somewhat simplistic motivation," Snatcher remarked.

"What are you talking about?" Roman broke in. "That's more or less what you were trying to do with the white hat. Minus the princess part. Because let's face it, you're no princess. You're the damn queen."

"Stop flattering me, Torchwick," Snatcher said coyly, meaning the exact opposite. "And…I suppose you have a point."

"What?" Scarlet replied. "What were you after?"

"Where I came from," Snatcher answered, "the elite who governed my little town were signified by glorious white top hats. I took it upon myself to earn a white hat by whatever means possible. For ten years, I worked to give the town an enemy and eliminate that enemy slowly in order to get into the lord's good graces and win his hat from him. My job was half done for me, anyhow. The Boxtrolls were already seen as menaces among the town, and aside from their mechanical expertise, they were little more than tiny, chattering nuisances."

"Oh, tell me about tiny, chattering nuisances," Scarlet groaned. "That's where it all went wrong with me. The Minions. They're some kind of…tiny creature that wears jeans and gravitates to the most evil supervillain they can find. Please, do NOT ask me to explain any further than that, because I barely understand it to this day. I thought they'd actually be able to, you know, help me get my crown, so I hired them. Now, how did you get rid of the Boxtrolls?"

"A giant crusher," Snatcher answered. The part where the Boxtrolls escaped their boxes and let him crush empty cardboard could be revealed at a later time.

"See, that's what I should have just done to the Minions," Scarlet groaned. "Not just the three I hired. ALL OF THEM. They messed up the crown heist, they annoyed me and Herb half to death – "

"I dunno," Herb brought up. "I kinda had fun with them when they weren't ruining our entire legacy."

" – And one of them ended up becoming king of England while on my payroll," Scarlet finished. "KING. I was trying to take the crown for myself, and HE TOOK THE WHOLE PALACE."

"I can't imagine what I'd do if a Boxtroll had earned the white hat I had earmarked," Snatcher said sympathetically. "You poor, poor dear!"

"I got him to turn the throne over to me," Scarlet went on, "and everything was good for a while until the Minions crashed and absolutely RUINED my coronation. All I tried to do was murder them, as I was JUSTIFIED IN DOING AT THAT POINT, and how did they pay me back? Hijackng Herb's superweapon, using it against me, and giving my crown BACK TO THE QUEEN. I let them into my house! I told them bedtime stories that were only vaguely threatening! And THAT'S how I get repaid?"

"It does sting so terribly," Snatcher sympathized, "to give and give and never gain the respect you are due."

"Anyway," Scarlet groaned, "they put the queen back on the throne and ruined my and Herb's career as supervillains forever. We were known as the world's best supervillains, but the moment the Minions got through with us, some upstart kid took the title, and the Minions latched right onto him. Well, I hope he gets everything he deserves from them." She sighed. "I have a feeling I know the answer to this story, but did you ever get your white hat?" She slumped over the bar, chin in her hands and elbows on the polished counter.

"I came so close," Snatcher replied. "Lord Portley-Rind was about to lower it onto my head, what with the execution of the final Boxtroll. It then turned out that the Boxtrolls…" The later time had arrived. "…were not…as dead as I had previously believed. I had to resort to a backup plan of destroying the town until the hat was handed to me, but that plot was…very quickly thwarted."

"I would have gone for the same plan," Scarlet stated.

"We totally should have done that!" Herb said in frustration, snapping his fingers. "I could've used my superweapon on you and made you a giant Scarlet of doom so you could stomp on Buckingham Palace until they made you queen. Then we could have gone for kind of an apocalyptic type deal with how we ruled the country. Dystopian dictators and all. Actually, put 'giant Scarlet of doom' on the back burner. We might still use that one."

"Isn't it weird, though?" Scarlet realized. "You and I have so much in common, Madame Frou Frou! Both of us chasing power through a headpiece of status, both of us being thwarted by the most annoying little creatures we never got a chance to crush…"

"He's even got a thing for red," Roman chimed in. "Just like you."

"No!" Scarlet gasped.

"It becomes me," Snatcher informed her.

"This has to be fate!" Scarlet gushed. "You and I were meant to meet up! And I have to say I'm loving your entire team so far."

"You're not so bad yourself," Roman told her. "I can already see you as a WHAMMER."

"Is that what you're calling members of the WHAM ARMY now?" Grany asked.

Roman shrugged.

Neo gave Scarlet and Herb a thumbs-up.

"You have charisma," Rémington stated. "At the very least, you'll work." He pointed to Herb. "Him, I'm not convinced on. He wasn't very impressive during our fight."

"I'm more of a brains guy," Herb replied. "I've always been an inventor. The lava gun was my idea. Because what is more awesome than a gun that shoots pure lava? And that's not even my BEST invention. I've made extending exoskeletons, machines that will grow you to a superhuman size…and I'm working on plans to make even more cool stuff in the future."

"You're an inventor," Snatcher reiterated, realization washing over him.

"Yeah," Herb told him. "That's what I just said."

"And…'Herb,'" Snatcher went on. "That wouldn't be short for 'Herbert,' by chance, would it now?"

"What else is 'Herb' short for?" Herb asked jokingly.

As Snatcher's eyes traveled over Herb, his lanky physique and brunette hair, a surge of loathing bubbled up from his core. "And you and Madame Overkill…"

"I love this woman." Herb threw his arm around Scarlet, pulling her close. "Don't know what I'd do without her. No matter what we steal or take over, she's the most valuable thing in my life."

"Oh, stop, you!" Scarlet replied, her own arms traveling around him sensually. "I can't mean half as much to you as you do to me. You stole something pretty big, though."

"What?"

"My heart." She giggled, pressing a quick kiss to his lips and snuggling close to his chest; he nuzzled her cheek with his own face.

Yes, it was burning loathing that was washing over Snatcher, and he knew exactly why. He had to steer the conversation away from the prospect of the Overkills joining the WHAM ARMY, and fast.

"Get a room, you two!" Grany groaned.

"He's just jealous," Scarlet said from her position draped over Herb, her hands falling into his.

"I get the same thing from him about my relationship," Rémington stated. "It's definitely jealousy."

"You're dating a madwoman who threw you off the side of a boat!" Grany reminded him.

"She's perfect," Rémington sighed.

"Can you just let me do my job?" Grany begged. "I'm your brother! I swore I wouldn't let you get hurt! And that woman is hurt incarnate!"

"I'm the one who makes sure you don't get hurt," Rémington argued. "Ever since you became a Bow Meow. And I think I did a pretty good job of it."

"Well, I'm not a Bow Meow anymore," Grany told him, "so I'm taking my post back."

"You guys are adorable!" Scarlet gushed. "I'm so jealous of you, you know that? I always wished I had a brother or a sister growing up." She turned to Roman and Neo. "And I'm guessing you two are kind of like a sibling thing too?"

"Exactly!" Roman confirmed. "Not blood, but who needs blood?"

"Madame Frou Frou," Scarlet decided, "I think we should adopt each other as siblings. We do really click."

"I would rather not – " Snatcher tried to protest.

"Do you have any siblings?" Scarlet pressed.

"As a matter of fact," Snatcher told her, "no, nor am I on the market – "

"Too late," Scarlet decided. "I'm your sister now."

"Oh, joy."

"What do you think, Grany?" Rémington asked. "Should we rope the two of them into being honorary Smisses? They are both in need of more siblings."

"I see no reason why not," Grany said with a grin.

"I truly do NOT need more siblings," Snatcher growled. "Or any siblings at all."

"You want in?" Scarlet asked Roman.

"Nah," Roman responded. "I can't really be dating my sibling. That'd be weird. I'll just be your brother-in-law, just like Herb-al Tea is all of yours."

"Herb-al Tea!" Herb repeated. "I dig it!"

"It doesn't work," Grany argued. "You don't pronounce the 'H' in 'herbal.'"

"Yes you do," Snatcher said without thinking.

"Well, with YOUR accent, yes," Grany relented.

"So, do we make the cut?" Scarlet asked. "Are we in the WHAM ARMY?"

"It is yet too soon to tell," Snatcher attempted. Had he a good excuse, he would shut the Overkills down then and there, and he knew that if he only had a little more time, a suitable line of reasoning would present itself.

Neo, however, was nodding and giving Scarlet two thumbs up now.

"I'd say you're in," Roman said cheerfully. "I eventually wanna hear more about the time you were the ruling royal couple. Though if you're gonna run with us, I need to know if you can sing, dance, or both."

"We're both okay singers," Herb answered as Scarlet finally peeled herself off him, "but we're mad awesome dancers."

"You'll fit right in!" Roman insisted. "And, hey, score another point you have in common with Frou Frou." He placed a hand on Snatcher's shoulder and another on his forearm, leaning into him playfully. "She's the best damn dancer you're gonna find in the whole base, and has pipes like an ANGEL."

"Torchwick, stop." Snatcher's declaration was no longer coy but insistent.

"You can dance?" Scarlet challenged. "Then dance with me. Right now." She slid down off the bar stool, heels clicking onto the floor. "I wanna see if you're ACTUALLY better than me. The rest of you are in too. I want everyone on this dance floor, right here, right now. To this obnoxious song that's been playing for the past half hour. We are SETTLING who is the best dancer in the room."

"It's not going to be Rémy," Grany laughed as he slid off his seat.

"Very funny," Rémington countered as he followed Grany and Scarlet out onto the floor. "I can be a contender for the title."

"You are ON!" Roman practically leapt off his stool. Neo followed eagerly.

"Ready when you are, my queen!" Herb cried as he rather clumsily stumbled out onto the floor, regaining his grace once he reached the center of the room.

Snatcher watched with fury as Scarlet began to move her body to the beat, flowing fluidly. She was exactly as good as Snatcher hoped she wouldn't be. And she was infecting the others: the Smisses, Herb, Neo, even Roman. All of their eyes were fixed upon her as she led the crowd; they were eating out of the palm of her hand.

"Come on!" Scarlet waved toward Snatcher. "Get in on this!"

It boiled over. "Absolutely NOT!" Snatcher screamed as he stormed across the floor and right out the door of the bar.

Roman's head whipped to follow Snatcher's trajectory. "Archie - ?"  
Snatcher stomped out onto the snowy sidewalk just as the early-morning shuttle bus was pulling up. He jogged to its door, boarding the vehicle and feeling grateful to powers he couldn't even name that it was ready to take him back to the hotel at that hour.

Back inside the bar, the dancing crowd had frozen, watching the door where Snatcher had just departed. "Did…we do something wrong?" Scarlet wondered out loud. "Maybe we shouldn't be doing this."

"Shit," Roman muttered before charging out of the bar.

"Should we go after them?" Herb wondered out loud.

"Why should we?" Rémington posed. "He's obviously mad at one of you or the other. Following him won't do you any good. But he's probably just being dramatic and will be fine in the morning."

"I thought we were getting along so well," Scarlet moaned. "We were siblings!"

"He'll get over whatever's making him act like a brat," Grany told her. "Let's not let this dance party go to waste. We still have at least twenty more plays of this song."

"Well…okay," Scarlet said with a shrug. Maybe she had come on too strong, she thought to herself. She couldn't pin down exactly where things had soured, and that irked her. But Herb, Rémington, Grany, and Neo had begun dancing once more, and that inspired her to join right back in, especially as Herb was looking especially enticing and in need of a dance partner that night; he extended his hand to bring her into a spin, and she accepted.

Roman barged out into the snowy night just in time to see Snatcher board the shuttle and the bus take off up the hill toward the hotel. "SHIT!" he yelled as soon as the vehicle got too far away to chase. He could go back into the juice bar and dance until the next bus came around, he knew.

But he was definitely not about to do that.

...

Snatcher lay back on the hotel bed for a while, leafing through "True Stories Behind Famous Portraits" and absorbing more information on this enigmatic Queen Marie who seemed to be at the heart of this entire scandal, as well as a few other figures who seemed to be relevant to the history of this world. The wealth of information wasn't enough to take his mind off the anger that seethed within. After quite some time of diversion failing to divert, Snatcher decided it was time to turn in for the night – or the day, as it seemed. He would be sleeping well into the early afternoon. The others would probably spend the entire night with the Overkills, laughing about how grand of a time they'd all had when they arrived around lunchtime.

As Snatcher reached back to undo the fastenings of his gown, he became aware of a rustling at the lock mechanism of his room door. He paused to see it through; Roman burst into the room, now dusting snow off the brim of his hat.

"What's wrong?" he asked sternly.

"Whatever gave you the idea that anything was wrong?" Snatcher asked dryly, now no longer bothering with Frou Frou's accent since he and Roman were alone – he wasn't in the mood to be Frou Frou anymore anyhow.

"Don't fuck with me." Roman shut the door with a foot, settling the hat on his head. "Something got under your skin back at the bar, and I'm guessing you're still stewing on it. Now, I didn't wait outside in the freezing cold for a shuttle for half an hour just for you to play the denial game, so fess up."

"And you care because why, exactly?" Snatcher retorted. "I'd've thought you'd rather dance the night away with your newest friends rather than follow me."

"You know way better than that," Roman told him. "We're partners in crime. This is what we DO. This is how we WORK. You obviously need to get SOMETHING off your chest, so just get it out already! It's just you and me. No Neo, no Smisses, no Overkills." He crossed the room to sit on the edge of the bed. "I'm listening."

Snatcher was taken aback. He shouldn't have been, he realized. How could he have thought Roman wouldn't follow him? And if there was one person in all of existence who he felt deserved to know the truth, it was the redheaded man sitting before him.

Tentatively, Snatcher sat down on the bed next to Roman. "I've never told you much of my childhood," he began.

"No," Roman agreed, "you haven't. Not exactly sure what that has to do with this, but I follow you."

"It will make sense if you listen," Snatcher promised. "When I was but a young boy, growing up in Cheesebridge, I was not well-liked, as you can imagine. I had my looks, my status, and my romantic tendencies working against me. For some time, my only friend was a pet rat I rescued from the clutches of my mother. Then, when I was thirteen, I met my first true friend. It was at a party thrown for young master Portley-Rind's birthday. Without going into detail, I humiliated myself – "

"No, I want the detail," Roman interrupted. "What did you do?"

"I…kissed young master Portley-Rind's hand," Snatcher admitted, "instead of shaking it. At the time, he seemed quite handsome to me, and I was flustered out of common sense."

"The same dipshit that made you jump through hoops for the hat later?"  
"I had poor taste in men. Anyhow, I left the festivities, but I was followed…"

...

The door to the manor opened, and a short, slender and dark-haired boy clad in a blue waistcoat and sorch-marked pants slipped out onto the street, a plate of cheese in hand. "Archibald Snatcher?" he greeted tentatively.

"What do YOU want?" Snatcher, only the tender age of thirteen, snapped.

"I only wanted to see if you were all right," the boy said softly. "It wasn't fair, the way they made fun of you in there. You didn't do anything wrong. They always do that, you know. Make fun of people for the silliest reasons. It's very rude of them."

Was this some sort of trick? "If you've come to ridicule me as well," Archibald growled, "you can leave."

"But I didn't!" the boy protested. "I just know how awful I'd feel if they'd made fun of me. Well, all right, I've learned to ignore them for the most part, but sometimes it's too much to bear all the same. And I'm sorry."

"For what? You didn't do anything."

"I know," the boy insisted, "but I'm still sorry they laughed at you."

...

"His name was Herbert Trubshaw," Snatcher informed Roman.

"Wait," Roman said in awe. "Trubshaw? Like, TRUBSHAW? Like the BOXBOY? Oh, PLEASE tell me it was his uncle or something distant."

"His father," Snatcher growled. "As I said…horrid taste."

"I'm not judging," Roman told him. "At least, I'm trying not to judge."

"Anyhow," Snatcher went on, "he was the first one I ever told the truth…"

...

"Does it truly not bother you, what they say about us?" Snatcher asked. A subject had been weighing heavily on his mind for a while, and he figured it was about time he lightened the load; he knew by now he could trust Herbert. "That we're…involved. That we're queer."

"Not one bit," Herbert stated confidently. "Does it bother you?"  
"Not most days. Of course, if the Portley-Rinds buy in, it will be that much harder to attain a White Hat."

"But not impossible."

"No, not impossible," Snatcher repeated. "Or…it wouldn't be, if the rumors were completely off the mark."

"Archibald, are you saying what I think you're saying?" Herbert looked to his friend in concern.

"I am," Snatcher admitted, not making eye contact but instead fixing his gaze on the surface of the water. "We may not be together, but what they think about me is…well, it's quite true. I am…one of that sort."

And as soon as he'd confessed, he realized that the weight had only gotten heavier. It really wasn't something he should have admitted to anyone, he thought, and now Herbert was likely going to be repulsed and tell his secret to everyone he could find come morning…

"That's all right," Herbert said softly.

Not the response Snatcher had been expecting, but the one he had been hoping for.

"After all, it's rather arbitrary, isn't it?" Herbert went on. "That men should only love women, and vice versa. Who's to say two men can't love each other, or two women? Is it because they can't bear children that way? Because that's ridiculous. I've often wished there was a way for someone to bear a child without having to involve another parent. I do so want children when I grow older, but I sometimes fear I'll never be married…I'm sorry. I've just made it about me. I didn't mean to. What I do mean to say is that it doesn't matter to me one bit whether you love women or other men. You're my friend, Archibald. That's not going to change because of this. And I know no one else would take this well. I swear to secrecy upon my very life. I won't tell a soul. Not human nor Boxtroll nor alley cat."

And now the weight was removed, and replaced with a different presence entirely. Archibald looked at his friend to be met with an honest smile. "Thank you," Snatcher replied. "You've…no idea what it means."

Herbert casually reached over to pat his friend on the shoulder. "Any secret you have will be safe with me."

"Is that so?" Snatcher blurted. "Because I've another, you know. A lot of times, when we get an order at the shop for a particularly beautiful dress that turns out to fit me, I try it on. Father caught me at it once and made me swear he'd never see me wearing such things again, and I kept my promise. He's never SEEN me in another gown. I'm just more careful now, and…" He stopped himself short. Perhaps that was too far to test the boundaries of Herbert's secret-keeping. "I…er…"

"Do you even wear the high shoes?" Herbert asked.

"Yes," Snatcher replied.

"I've often wondered how women keep their balance in those high shoes," Herbert admitted. "I knew you had a good sense of balance, but you must be very graceful to be able to walk in those shoes."

"I'd like to think I am," Snatcher stated rather boastfully. So he really could trust Herbert with anything, it seemed.

"If I put a pair on, I doubt I'd get far," Herbert sighed.

"Well, we could test that out," Snatcher suggested. "Later tonight, even. They're not as beastly as you think."

...

"We had many escapades together, Trubshaw and I," Snatcher continued. "We would traditionally spend Christmas together and exchange gifts. I taught him how to skate on ice; he was an absolute wreck at it before. He fancied himself an inventor, and let me be privy to all the doohickeys he built. He was the one who informed me that the Boxtrolls were mechanically inclined rather than cannibalistically. One could have called us inseparable. So much so that…"

The words wouldn't come.

"You two were a thing," Roman guessed.

"No," Snatcher told him, staring straight ahead, not daring to look him in the eye.

Roman realized the truth. "You had a thing for him," he said, "but he didn't feel that way about you."

"Now you're getting it. We met a girl later on. Miss Marjorie Travis. To this day, the thought of her nauseates me. He became infatuated with her, and she filled his head with ideas about white hats: that they meant nothing. That they were only held by the powerful, who stayed powerful, and one could not simply earn the hat through toil."

"But…isn't that exactly what the dipshits in charge were doing?"

"I learned that eventually," Snatcher growled. "But at the moment I needed Trubshaw to stand beside me the most…"

...

"I'm not trying to be holier-than-thou," Herbert insisted. "I'm merely trying to figure out where I went wrong, that my dearest friend isn't speaking to me!"

"Your dearest friend, am I?" Snatcher countered. "After Miss Travis, of course. Oh, I do apologize. MRS. Trubshaw, now, she is."

"It was never meant to be a competition between you," Herbert pleaded. "I know the two of you never got on, but I do love both of you – "

"You only seem to be married to one of us. And what about your little friends - " His voice went hushed: "Underground? I suppose you've only become closer to them. You're practically one of them anyway."

"They're dear to me, of course," Herbert sputtered. "The point is, Archibald, I never meant to lose you by loving anyone else! If I've hurt you, if I've wronged you in any way, then please, tell me what I've done so I can make amends!"

Snatcher badly wanted to have a fair argument against Herbert, to tell him exactly what made him such a reprehensible person and a terrible friend. But he didn't. All he had was a man desperate to reclaim the bond he'd lost, and who was doing quite a wonderful job at communicating his own kindness. When Archibald said "You've nothing to apologize for," he knew it was true. "Choosing the Portley-Rind wedding over yours was my decision."

"But why, Archibald?"

"You mean after all this time, you still don't know?" Snatcher replied, somewhat in disbelief. "It was the next step toward the White Hat, Herbert! The most influential family in all of Cheesebridge now owes the success of its heir's wedding to the Snatchers! Can't you imagine what that will do for us?"

"And is that why you've ignored me since then?" Herbert asked, his voice suddenly taking on an edge. "Because speaking to me won't get you any closer to that White Hat you've dreamed of?"

"Perhaps it is."

"Why is it so important to you, Archibald?"

"Why is a White Hat important?" Snatcher was flabbergasted. "It comes with power! It comes with prestige! It comes with wealth and influence! It comes with everything I've been denied my whole life!"

"Except for love and friendship," Herbert said softly. "You had that. It wasn't enough, though, was it?"

The silence was deafening before Snatcher said, "You realize it wasn't supposed to be this way. We were supposed to achieve greatness together. But you gave it up the moment you met Mrs. Trubshaw née Travis. You settled. You decided my dreams were just too good for you."

"That…that isn't entirely true, Archibald," Herbert stated, his tone now growing shaky. "I thought…perhaps we could live out our lives the way we wanted and stop caring what everyone thinks about us. So long as we had each other, the White Hat wouldn't matter. We could follow our dreams in our own ways. I would continue to invent, even if my inventions never became famed or used by the White Hats. And you…you always did write such beautiful poetry. You could have been a writer. Or an artist, with the way you crafted all of the gowns at your family's shop. Or even an actor. And Marjorie…well, we won't speak of Marjorie if you don't want to hear it, but she would have been my wife all the same, and she would have been able to live the same way, doing what she loves no matter what anyone thinks. And Fish and Shoe, they could be with us too, instead of having to run and hide from every human aboveground. We, all of us, could have had – we could STILL have a wonderful life together, making things and being ourselves!"

"And what's brought all this on?" Snatcher snapped. "You were always the first to champion that my family might actually do it, you know! That I myself, Archibald Snatcher, might – "

"You would NEVER have earned that hat, Archibald, and you KNOW it!" Herbert finally snapped.

Snatcher was taken aback, giving Herbert an absolutely stunned look. He had absolutely never seen this side of Herbert before and was almost curious to plumb the depths of his anger. "What…is THAT…supposed to mean?"  
"It means the White Hats are terrible people who only care about keeping the hats in their own families, or buying their way into power!" Herbert ranted. "They've always thought of you as so much lesser than you are, and that's all they'll EVER see you as! To them, you don't have the look, the manners, or the money, and you never will! And it isn't because you aren't worthy; it's because they're pigheaded and short-sighted! No amount of hemming wedding gowns is going to change that, Archibald! I'm sorry to have to speak ill of your dream, but that's all it will EVER be! Just…a…dream! And the sooner you WAKE UP from it, the sooner you'll finally be happy with your life!"

"YOU DON'T KNOW A THING ABOUT WHITE HATS!" Snatcher roared in retaliation. "AND YOU DON'T KNOW THE FIRST THING ABOUT ME, IF YOU THINK I CAN'T GET THEM TO SEE WHAT I DESERVE! YOU NEVER THOUGHT THIS BEFORE YOU MET THAT WOMAN, AND LOOK WHAT YOU'VE BECOME! HER HOLLOWED-OUT PUPPET THAT SHE USES TO SAY HER WORDS THROUGH!"

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!" Herbert yelled. "SHE DIDN'T CHANGE MY MIND! SHE JUST MADE ME REALIZE WHAT I HAD THOUGHT ALL ALONG!"

Now the silence was not so much deafening as it was the equivalent of something strong breaking unexpectedly in two. Snatcher took a few breaths before he was able to formulate his response: "You've…thought this from the very start? You thought I…that my family would NEVER be able to achieve power? And you let me believe you supported me."

"You wanted it so badly," Herbert said weakly. "I suppose I talked myself into it because of that. I wanted you to be happy. But it's been so long, Archibald. We aren't children anymore. We know how this town works. We know how the WORLD works. And we can't go on pretending. The good news is that we don't need the White Hats or their approval in order to be happy. Because I've been thinking it over, and I realized…things like hats, they're not what make you who you are. YOU make – "

"Don't ever speak to me again."

Herbert was immediately filled with regret. "But, Archibald – "

"Don't EVER speak to me AGAIN!" Giving Herbert a rough shove aside, Snatcher stormed quickly back toward his family's shop.

...

"Wow," Roman breathed. "Sounds preachy."

"Are you beginning to see the parallel?" Snatcher asked. "He was a gangly brunette. First name, Herbert."

"Like Herb-al Tea," Roman realized. "Okay, seeing the similarity, but still not sure what any of that has to do with any of this. It's not like Herb-al Tea or Strawberry Punch told you you couldn't get a white hat."

"…Strawberry Punch?"

"She wears red and she punches people. Do I have to keep explaining these nicknames?"

"But don't you see?" Snatcher continued in exasperation, still not daring to look Roman in the eye. "Did it not occur to you WHY Mrs. Overkill won Mr. Overkill over? Why she succeeded where I failed? She has everything I lack! She's exactly the sort of slender woman that Herberts fall for at first sight. Quite unlike myself. You heard her story. She's been through almost the same as me. And all of you are falling for her charms as well. She's a watered-down Archibald Snatcher, is what she is, and yet she's getting everything I never had! Should I welcome her with open arms, she'll likely swipe the rest of the WHAM ARMY from me and leave me out in the cold! I can't let it go any further!" He stopped to catch his breath.

Before he could say any more, Roman broke in: "Um…can I ask why you want a Herbert so badly? You have a Roman. And a Roman is way, WAY better than a Herbert. You traded up, if you ask me."

"I wouldn't trade you for Trubshaw," Snatcher assured him, though he still couldn't look Roman in the eye. "I no longer care for him. Nor would I trade you for anyone else. It's simply salt in the wound to look at her and KNOW…know she can simply ask for what I wanted and receive it for herself…"

Roman placed a hand on Snatcher's shoulder. "Archie, look at me."

With great difficulty, Snatcher forced himself to turn and meet Roman's gaze. His eyes seemed all the more strikingly green tonight, searching behind Snatcher's own eyes to delve into what was hidden within.

"Do you know why Boxboy Senior isn't with you right now?" Roman asked firmly.

"Presumably because he's heterosexual – "

"Well, pretend he isn't. Why wouldn't he be with you? Don't answer that. I'll tell you why. It's because he can't HANDLE you. You are an evil genius. You walk into the room and you have everyone's attention. You can talk your way into or out of anything. You could lie to me about anything and I wouldn't know. You're the one who led us all into the Sadida Kingdom in drag, and your plan actually accomplished what you set out to do, which is more than anyone can say for Corpsey or Skullface. You can do things in high heels that defy physics. Most importantly, you don't just let things slip away from you. You chase them at mach speed. When you want something, you don't give up until you have it or it's literally impossible to get. Any guy that has you has to be able to keep the fuck up. There's a certain bar set here, and Boxboy Senior didn't clear it because he's a sorry little wimp who doesn't know how to chase his dreams. If he were here right now instead of me, he probably would have packed up and left this castle with all the medallions in the hands of the chick whose neck we broke. Now, me? I like to think I actually fit the standard. But what happened with him has nothing to do with what you aren't and everything to do with what HE isn't."

"That's…" It wasn't that Snatcher couldn't find the words. It was that he had trouble deciding which of the many trains of thought that surged through his mind was the appropriate one to voice. "…quite eloquent for you, Torchwick."

"Yeah, well, give me credit. I know things." Roman shrugged. "As for Herb-al Tea, he's more our speed, but he doesn't clear your bar either when it comes down to it. Do you want the guy who hides behind you during a fight or the guy that runs in, gun blazing?"

"To be honest, Torchwick, sometimes I wish you would refrain from running into situations 'gun blazing,' as you put it. If you had more discretion about the battles you picked, you wouldn't end up with so many injuries that your Aura can't repair."

"You knew what you were signing up for when you teamed up with me," Roman reminded him. "I do what I want."

"I suppose I can't very well hold you back. You've a will of your own, and you adhere to it with an unbreakable bond."

"Did Boxboy Senior have that kind of conviction?"

"Not to your degree," Snatcher admitted.

"And more importantly, not to yours," Roman countered. "So if you think there was something you could have done or been to bag Boxboy Senior, ask yourself: was he really, REALLY worth it?"

"I already knew he wasn't," Snatcher argued. "But it's as you said. When I've my sights set on something…"

"Yeah, you might wanna forget about that one," Roman told him. "Why HAVE him when you could do BETTER than him and throw it in his face? Same thing with the white hat. Why would you want that anymore when we could potentially run over the entirety of Jerktown with a steamroller and build a throne out of what's left?"

"You're quite right," Snatcher admitted.

"Now, as for your second point," Roman went on. "That is to say Strawberry Punch taking over the team. It's YOUR team. I like her, and I want her in, but if you don't, just kick her out. You're the one calling the shots here. You should know, though, that I really don't think you have anything to worry about. You're a WHAM ARMY founder. You already have cred with us. She's a newbie. So's Herb-al Tea. The Smisses might be something to worry about, but Neo won't pick the Overkills over you. She's finally stopped trying to kill you, which means you passed the boyfriend test. You're her brother-in-law now. She's going to pick you every time."

"Reassuring," Snatcher replied, though he didn't sound convinced.

"The others back home DEFINITELY won't pick her over you," Roman went on. "Not after everything we've been through."

"I suppose."

He was waiting for something, Roman realized, something he had trouble voicing due to an influx of pride. There was only a brief moment of mental scrambling before Roman realized he knew exactly what he needed to reassure Snatcher of. "And if she'd run out of that bar all pissy tonight," Roman said, "I would've just let her go. That's Herb-al Tea's job, not mine. You, on the other hand, are my business. You're my partner in crime. Not her. Not him. I don't care how many memes he has up his sleeve. So, again, no. Strawberry Punch is not going to replace you. You can still have her kicked out if you really want to. We'd have to get that diamond and that emerald off her first, but – "

"No," Snatcher sighed. "No. Given the Overkills' skills and their rapport with Misters Smisse and Miss Neopolitan, it would hardly make sense to force them to depart. Though I was set on it not a moment ago. I shall simply have to grin and bear them. I'm well aware that you're fond of them as well."

"Yeah, well, I'm fonder of you. Deal with it." Roman shook his head. "If I'd have known about Boxboy Senior and all of that…"

"I want one thing very clear, Torchwick," Snatcher growled. "I want no pity because of any of this. What you know is now confidential knowledge, though after tonight, it seems unreasonable to ask you to keep it a secret permanently."

"Hey, I try!"

"I'm aware, Torchwick. Even if the world ends up knowing my biography thanks to you, I still want no pity out of you."

"I don't pity you one bit, so you're in luck." And yet Roman still felt as though he owed Snatcher something for the confidence that had been placed in him.

"I suppose we should return to the bar," Snatcher resolved, making as though to stand. "There is most likely damage control to be done."

Roman caught Snatcher's shoulder in a hand, pulling him back down into a sitting position. "They'll be fine," he assured. "They're all grown-ups. If you have to run any damage control, just do it tomorrow." He knew quite well that Snatcher didn't want to return to the Overkills' company one bit. "Besides, I was thinking we could have some fun."

"What did you have in mind?" Snatcher asked, though he already knew.

Roman leaned forward, taking Snatcher by surprise as he kissed his mouth gently. Roman's lips slid along Snatcher's face until they reached his ear, where he whispered, "You know, you really rock that dress. But I bet you'd look even better with it off."

"Torchwick," Snatcher warned, "I only JUST said I wanted no pity. This had better not be – "

"It's not. It's because you're sexy. Do I need a better reason?"

"You'd best let the others know not to expect us back, then."

Roman brought out his scroll, texting Neo quickly: "archie and i r goin to bed. c u tomorrow?"

In a few seconds, a response of "Goodnight idiot" flashed across the screen.

"We are good to go," Roman announced, setting the scroll on the night-table and turning back to face Snatcher.

They moved in for the kiss at the same time, locking together and refusing to part. They shifted, Snatcher moving atop Roman and pinning him down to the mattress. Roman squirmed slightly in pleasure, wrapping both arms around Snatcher to pull him closer.

...

Breathless and more than satisfied, Roman exited the bed only briefly to shut off the lights. He returned to the bed to worm under the blankets next to Snatcher, who was equally beyond content, equally out of breath. They curled into their default sleeping position, Snatcher spooning Roman from behind and draping an arm over him as they pressed close.

Roman lay awake as Snatcher began to drift out of consciousness; the former felt as though he still hadn't truly paid Snatcher back for having heard that much more of his past. Physical favors hadn't been the right route to go, as fulfilling as they'd been in other aspects. He needed to ante up something closer to the heart and he knew it.

The exact nature of what he owed struck him.

"Hey, Archie."

The response of "What is it, Torchwick?" was muffled by drowsiness.

"You awake?"

"I can't be asleep if I'm talking to you, Torchwick."

"Listen," Roman sighed. "You told me some STUFF tonight, and, well, I'm not exactly in the mood to tell you anything about my own past you don't already know. There is…something else about me you should probably know at this point, though."

"What is it?"

"My Semblance."

Snatcher was fully awake then. "I thought you'd been keeping that secret for good reason."

"Yeah, well, prepare for a letdown in that department. You seriously can't not know about it anymore at this point, though. I'm gonna have to make you swear to secrecy first."

"I won't tell a soul. …Does Miss Neopolitan know?"

"Yeah, but she's better at keeping my secrets than I am hers." Sixth and last time, he thought to himself. "So."

"Well?"  
Roman inhaled deeply, readying himself. "I don't fucking know."

"How to begin?"

"No, Archie. I don't fucking know what my Semblance is."

Whatever Snatcher had expected, it wasn't that. "You…don't know."

"Yeah. That's why it's such a big secret. I wanted everybody to think I had this big important power up my sleeve. This card that would change the game. I have a blank card-sized piece of paper and that's it."

"But…you said Miss Salem only kept you in her ranks alive because of your Semblance."

"I bluffed to her, okay?" Roman confessed. "I'm a gambling man! I had her convinced that my Semblance was something that was going to help her win her war, and she let me off the hook way more than she would have otherwise. I let her believe I had some kind of…evil eye thing. I kind of just dropped vague comments and let her draw her own conclusion. And Fuckface, Mustache, Firebitch, and Dust Rage just went along with it. For all I know, I don't even have a Semblance. Or it's something stupid and weird, like being able to make my favorite song play on the radio. No, I don't know why that would be a Semblance; I just picked something stupid!" He realized he was becoming more fired up and resolved to calm down. "Anyway, now you know."

"I shall take the secret to my grave," Snatcher vowed. "I will say you seem to get along quite well without one, anyhow. I'm certain whatever it is, it isn't at all to sneeze at."

"How do you know?"

"Because a man like you wouldn't have a power that is less than extraordinary."

Now, Roman thought, they were even. "Well, I'm actually going to sleep now."

"As am I. Sleep well, Torchwick."

"Yeah, you do the same."

They both fell silent, eyes shut tight, and fell away into sleep as the sun began to crest the horizon.

...

Mozenrath wobbled as he stepped off the monorail, tripping and falling to his hands and knees.

"Are you okay?" a concerned civilian asked him, bending slightly over him.

"I am all right," Mozenrath said calmly. "I am just trying to get as far away from Ba Sing Se as I can. I do not need any help."

"Well, if you're sure." The civilian shrugged and left.

Mozenrath continued crawling through the crowd, making his way to the ferry station. His hypnosis was so strong, he didn't even notice when his own gauntlet slapped him in the face.

"THERE HE IS!" Ravess cried, bolting after Mozenrath at top speed with Aghoul and Ragdoll in tow. Aghoul edged in front and tackled Mozenrath, bowling him over to the ground. Before Mozenrath could protest, Aghoul charged his fingers up with magic, snapping them before Mozenrath's eyes.

"Snap out of it, will you?" Aghoul barked.

Mozenrath blinked rapidly as his pupils shrank to their normal size. "Aghoul," he seethed, "there had better be a good reason for this."

"You were hypnotized again," Aghoul explained, getting up off Mozenrath. "You had gotten yourself good and lost." He bent over to quickly pick up the gauntlet. "But we found you."

"And not a moment too soon," Ravess sighed.

"Does anyone else hear an infectiously catchy tune?" Ragdoll asked.

Ravess, Aghoul, and Mozenrath all became aware of the noise. From within Mozenrath's pocket, his scroll had been ringing ever since the search party had located him. Mozenrath fumbled for it, but Ravess swatted it out of his hand, giving him a sharp glare as she answered it. "Mozenrath's phone. Ravess speaking…Vexen?...Yes, I am aware. He was hypnotized and…What am I doing here? Well, I…What?...WHAT?...Well, EXCUSE me! I'M not the one who became captured by the enemy!...Yes, he's fine. We have him now and…YES, thanks to us! Do you have any idea what we've been through?...Well, I'll tell you!...Yes. We'll bring him…Well, we did a much better job at evading capture than YOU did, that's for sure!..." She put her hand over the scroll's mouthpiece, quickly telling the others, "We've got to bring him to the North Pole to find the Spirit Waters. I would guess one of the ferries running from this station can bring us there." She turned back to the scroll. "Yes, I just SUGGESTED that! Do you think I'm incompetent?...Certainly more than you!...I BEG to differ!..."

"She could be a while," Ragdoll remarked.

"Come on." Aghoul scooped Mozenrath up once more. "Let's find our boat."

...

Cruella de Vil sat at the table of the Villain's Vale dining room, sipping her tea and enjoying the solitude. Her moment was ruined in perhaps the most spectacular way possible when a pair of hyenas burst into the kitchen, yelping and snapping at Cruella.

"NO!" Cruella scrambled up onto the table, launching her teacup at the nose of one of the hyenas. "BACK! GET BACK, YOU WRETCHED, WRETCHED BEASTS! WHO LET YOU IN HERE? WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR YOU MONGRELS?"

"Awww," Harley moaned as she skipped into the room, "you don't like my babies?"

"These are YOUR vermin?" Cruella groaned.

"We prefer to think of them as family," the Joker commented as he followed Harley into the room.

"Well, call them off!" Cruella ordered, throwing her hands up into the air. "I can't stand the rotten creatures!"

The hyenas kept yelping as they scratched at the table's legs.

"I don't know about you, Harley," the Joker said, "but I'm having altogether too much fun watching this scene unfold."

"I say you can get to spend as much time as you need with our babies until you learn to love 'em!" Harley chirped.

"ENOUGH!"

At the declaration of the newcomer's voice, a bolt of lightning struck the ground and the entire dining room flashed in and out of darkness. Grimhilde, the one who had cried out, stormed into the room. "Call off your beasts," she demanded, glowering at Joker and Harley. "Immediately."

"And who says we have to do what you say?" the Joker retorted.

Harley, on the other hand, was already stroking the backs of both hyenas, muttering that they should calm down and back off. She led them away from Cruella, not wanting to risk Grimhilde's wrath.

"You two are wanted," Grimhilde said stonily. "Bring your beasts if you must."

"Oh, all right," the Joker groaned. "Killjoy."

He and Harley followed Grimhilde into the adjacent corridor, the hyenas trotting after. Cruella watched them depart, wondering briefly if she owed Grimhilde her actual thanks.

During the journey down the corridor, Grimhilde asked, "You two have a history with Archibald Snatcher and Roman Torchwick, do you not?"

"Those were the two that murdered my Puddin'!" Harley screeched. Then, remembering present company: "My last Puddin', that is."

"A tragedy indeed," the Joker said, "but you can't tell me you're not better off."

"The point remains," Grimhilde stated. "You have a history with those allies of Mozenrath. My scrying has revealed to me that those two in particular have assembled a small team in order to seek treasures on a world previously thought insignificant. This offers us an opportunity in multiple respects. I have sought out the location of the next item they pursue, and it would be far more valuable in our hands than in theirs. But furthermore, this separation may be our chance to chip away at Mozenrath's foundations by removing his weaker subordinates from play."

"So you want us to go down to the world they're on, swipe their treasure from 'em, and pick 'em off!" Harley exclaimed, rather excited by the prospect.

"Oh, goody!" the Joker added. "I was so hoping for round two against them."

"They have numbers on their side," Grimhilde warned. "Most are weak, but they have added a skilled fighter and an inventor to their ranks only moments ago. Then again, you are both quite skilled yourselves. They should give you little trouble. All the same, we are dispatching you with a new ally."

"A new ally?" Joker repeated, highly skeptical.

"An apparent friend of Ursula's," Grimhilde clarified. "She insisted upon bringing him into the fold. She has more faith in him than most of us do. His magical skills are limited compared to most of our own, but they should be sufficient for this mission. She should be in the process of adjusting his form now."

"Adjustin' his form?" Harley repeated.

"As he is, he will stand out if sent to the world we intend," Grimhilde said cryptically.

She brought Joker, Harley, and the hyenas to the room where Ursula kept her cauldron, which at the moment was bubbling brilliant neon blue. Ursula stood on one side, while at the other sat a lion with a deep brown coat and a raven-black mane; his face was distinguished by the scar marking his left eye.

When he saw the hyenas, he quickly backed up against the wall. A distinct "No…NO! NOT THE HYENAS!" was heard escaping his mouth.

"It talks!" Harley gasped.

"HE talks, angelfish," Ursula corrected. "No need to be rude." She then looked at the lion; "Scared of a few hyenas, are we?"

The lion forced a cool exterior to cover his racing heart rate. "No," he said snidely. "Of course not."

"This is your new ally," Grimhilde introduced. "His name is Scar."

"How creative," the Joker snorted.

"You're going to be working with the Joker and Harley Quinn," Ursula informed Scar.

"From what little I know of your customs," Scar said casually, "your names are hardly any more creative than mine."

"I don't like him," Harley huffed.

"Well, too bad," Ursula told her. "Because you're all going to be working together to land our prize catch, so you'd better start making nice."

"Don't make me regret following up on our alliance, Ursula," Scar droned.

"You won't, lionfish," Ursula promised. "Once you've been brought into the fold, you'll get your piece."

"You now see why his form must be adjusted," Grimhilde commented.

"Aw, we can't even say we're workin' with a talking lion?" Harley groaned. "That woulda been fun!"

"Tell me they aren't going to bring those…beasts," Scar huffed.

"You're one to talk," Joker observed.

"I ain't leavin' our babies behind!" Harley insisted. "Cruella and Medusa are just gonna try and make 'em into their new fall line!"

"If you must," Scar grumbled, none too happy about the arrangement.

"Time's running out, lionfish," Ursula reminded him.

"So it is," Scar remarked. "As I understand it, there's usually a price."

"Well, you qualify for the friends and family discount," Ursula told him. "No charge."

"Then let's get it over with," Scar ordered.

Grimhilde discreetly shut the door as Ursula reached for the final bottle needed to complete her concoction. The virulent green liquid splashed into the blue pool, turning the entire batch turquoise. The room itself was completely dark but for the light emanating from the cauldron.

Ursula began to chant, and as she did so, the cauldron's bubbling became more and more violent. Plumes of smoke rose into the air, fogging up the visibility in the room. Harley clutched at Joker, who roughly shoved her away. Grimhilde watched stone-still.

Scar was surrounded in a bubble of magic; he writhed within it as his entire body morphed, growing longer and thicker, hind limbs stretching, forelimbs shortening. Ursula couldn't help but laugh proudly.

The bubble burst. Where Scar the lion had stood, there was now a human male, unclothed, distinguished by the marking that still crossed his left eye. Scar stumbled a bit on his new legs before regaining his balance.

The smoke subsided. The turquoise light faded. Grimhilde eased the door open to let some light into the room.

"What do you think, lionfish?" Ursula asked.

"It will take getting used to," Scar answered.

"For goodness' sake," the Joker groaned, "put on some pants!"

"You will need clothing and weaponry," Grimhilde stated. "Then you shall depart."

"A word to the wise," Joker told Scar. "Don't cross me."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Scar said sarcastically.

"Then we'll get along just fine," Joker replied, equally sarcastically.

"Just so long as Roman Torchwick pays for what he did," Harley growled. "And is he ever gonna pay!"


	51. Dancing Waters

51\. Dancing Waters

Powered by waterbenders, the ferry departing the Earth Kingdom coast moved at a fast clip toward the North Pole. While time was still in short supply, it seemed Mozenrath was holding on; he had moved to a standing position to look off the side of the boat, keeping one arm over Aghoul to steady himself.

And since the ferry's launch, Ravess had not put down Mozenrath's scroll even once, determined to win her argument.

"You realize avoiding falling into that man's trap was the easiest thing in the world!" she barked into the phone. "Yes, I understand you were outvoted! That doesn't mean you had to go ALONG with them!...Yes, you absolutely could have!...NO, YOU ABSOLUTELY DID NOT HAVE TO!..."

"Ravess," Ragdoll attempted to interrupt, "you do realize you are going to burn right through Mozenrath's data plan."

Ravess held the scroll away for a moment to snap, "It's connected to our tower by magic! There IS no data plan!" She put the phone back to her ear. "No, that was just Ragdoll, trying to convince me I was using up Mozenrath's data plan…That's what I just TOLD him!...Yes, I know what a data plan is!...Because Ragdoll and Firefly explained it to me, that's why! Also, I'm not an idiot!..."

Ragdoll sighed as he stalked toward Aghoul and Mozenrath, taking his place beside them on the railing. "Can't say I didn't try," he remarked.

"Stop giving me reasons to appreciate you," Mozenrath groaned.

"I can't help it," Ragdoll retorted. "I'm naturally lovable."

"You realize there is a chance you might not survive this ordeal," Aghoul pointed out.

"I know," Mozenrath said calmly.

"Well?" Aghoul asked. "Is this how you wanted it to happen?"

"No," Mozenrath grumbled. "Dying slowly was never the plan."

"Describe your dream death," Aghoul demanded.

"Ayam," Ragdoll broke in, "are you sure this is appropriate conversation for the moment?"

"When is talking about your dream death ever inappropriate conversation?" was Aghoul's answer.

"It's fine," Mozenrath sighed. "I just thought I'd go out in a blaze of glory. Being worn down by the gauntlet as I claimed my final victory over a persistent foe. Maybe having a nice one-liner as my final words. If that Eliacube had actually finished the job, I'd be just fine with all of this."

"Well, if these Spirit Waters don't pan out, we could always drop you off at Aladdin's door so you could die fighting him," Aghoul mused. "Or would that Keybearer boy be more appropriate now?"

"It would hardly be worth it," Mozenrath said flatly. "They'd see me in this condition and know I was on my last legs while fighting them. They might even hold back because of it. That's the kind of annoyingly saintly they are. No, if I'm going to have a last hurrah, I'm going to at least give off the impression that I might have the upper hand."

"At least this way, you'll die surrounded by friends," Ragdoll pointed out. "A poor substitute, I know. Especially if we never meet up with the other party."

"I hate that you're still smiling," Mozenrath grunted.

"I'm just rather amused by the thought that I might be one of the witnesses to your last words," Ragdoll told him. "I know how much you hate that." He turned to look out at where water and sky met, and Mozenrath completely missed the slight falter of his grin.

"I hate to admit that he has a point," Mozenrath said dejectedly. "Both because he said it and because I actually care about whether or not I die with friends around me."

"Being dead won't be so bad," Aghoul tried to assure him.

"I still have a target painted on my back by Hades," Mozenrath reminded Aghoul. "So, yes. It will be. But that was kind of to be expected. I never really wanted to live the kind of life that didn't end in me being in a world of trouble upon my death."

"That's the spirit!" Aghoul encouraged.

"I do admire that moxie," Ragdoll added. "Though this is all a moot point. We're going to reach those waters in time, and you're going to live to be aggravated by peers and foes alike for many years to come."

"That would be ideal," Mozenrath said wistfully.

He, Aghoul, and Ragdoll could find no more to say, instead simply taking in the view of the horizon as Ravess continued to snap at Vexen: "At the VERY least, you found a way to break out of it…You what?...No, you're going to tell me what you mean right now…WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THE KEYBEARER'S FRIEND PUT YOUR SOULS BACK IN YOUR BODIES?..."

...

As Ozai settled back on his throne, he felt a sense that everything was suddenly right again, and he had come home. Which is exactly what he had done, he realized. He was exactly where he should have been as his heart saw things.

"Comfortable?" Facilier asked as he watched Ozai. It was obvious to Ozai that Facilier was undergoing the opposite reaction as the Phoenix King himself; the Shadow Man wanted to get out of town as quickly as possible. And Ozai knew why.

"You still cannot stand that your captives got away alive," he said coolly.

"I had two goals in mind when I came here," Facilier told him. "One was to put you in that chair, and that's good and done. The other was to make sure their scrawny sorcerer friend took his last breath on my watch. And I ain't goin' back without a perfect score."

"Then leave," Ozai told him. "I do not need your supervision."

So Ozai was going to send Facilier packing without even a thank-you, Facilier thought. What else had he expected, really? "Remember," Facilier said sternly, "you ain't got no bendin' to save the day."

"I am aware."

"If you're gonna hold this throne, ya gotta use the Darkness," Facilier told him. "Soon as the sun's all the way up, the Heartless are gonna be scarcer, but they'll be around. Use 'em. Just remember you got a limit. You'll feel when things start gettin' too deep. You gotta be sure to back outta the water when you notice you're drownin'."

"Do not lecture me as though I am a child," Ozai growled.

"As I said, I ain't goin' back without a perfect score," Facilier reminded him. "Mess this up, and I'm completely empty-handed. Neither you nor I want what's comin' to us if that happens."

"You come from territories unknown and think to tell me how to govern my own homeland?" Ozai growled. "No matter how powerful your employer is, she and those in her sway cannot play on my field the way I can."

"Which is why we went to all the trouble of gettin' ya back!" Facilier insisted. "But as much as I don't know about the Fire Nation, you don't know about gettin' the bad end of a deal struck with the Darkness! Nothin' comes free! There's always a price!" He stiffened his stance. "Well, ain't no use arguin'. Ain't got time. Just got enough to show you how to do what you need to do to call up the Heartless. Then it's off to the North Pole for me. Hope ya don't mind I'm takin' your admiral."

"I do not need his protection either," Ozai insisted. "The victory he claims with you against these sorcerers shall be in my name by proxy. You and I will have defeated them together."

And I bet you wish you didn't have to share that honor with me at all, Facilier thought.

Zhao burst through the doors of the inner chamber. "Your Majesty!" he announced. "There is someone here to see you. I think you're going to want to speak to her."

"Show her in," Ozai commanded.

Zhao stepped aside, and the girl strode confidently forth, standing tall to look her father in the eye before dropping to a knee and pressing a closed fist to her heart.

"Father," Azula said reverently. "I am pleased to see you have returned, and pledge myself to your service."

Ozai was, at first, amused. Azula, in the end, had been a failure, as much as Zuko was, where Ozai was concerned. She had utterly ceased to matter to him. But he recalled her past loyalty, and at the very least, he thought, he could get some use out of her as a warrior. He would let her think she had a chance to claim the birthright she had soiled so she would remain at his side. And she would fight for him, the way she always had. Perhaps this time, she wouldn't lose to a mere waterbender.

"Welcome home, Azula," Ozai said with a smirk.

...

Roman was jolted awake by the sound of a shrill chirp. His scroll had received a text. Bleary-eyed, he reached over to lift the device from the night table. First of all, he noticed that the time, as it had been set for the local region, was two in the afternoon. Second, the message displayed across the screen was from Neo: "Having brunch in the Smisse bros room. Come join us if you're awake. Or we can eat without you and then bang on your wall until you get out of bed 3"

Within a few minutes, the door of the Smisses' room received a sharp but polite knock. Neo skipped toward the door to open it, letting Roman and Snatcher, now dressed and mostly awake, inside. The Smisses were seated on their bed while Scarlet and Herb had found mostly comfortable positions to sit on the floor; dishes laden with ribs smothered in barbecue sauce and fried chicken legs were spread out all over the room. Neo gestured to where a share of the meat set aside for the two late arrivals was situated on the dresser, then sat down on the floor at her own place.

"Check it out," Herb said with a giggle. "As if we weren't villainous enough, we decided not to bother with napkins, since we figure this is the last night we're spending in this place anyway. So go ahead and get barbecue sauce on everything. They are going to HATE cleaning this up."

And true to Herb's word, the bedcovers and the carpet surrounding the diners were simply smothered in burgundy-brown sauce. Roman carefully removed both his gloves and stuffed them into a jacket pocket. Snatcher ducked back into their room for only a moment, bringing out the blanket from the bed to throw over his gown and shield it from the mess.

"And the best part is I asked," Scarlet announced, "and none of the food here has any – "

Neo, Rémington, Grany, and Roman all fired her panicked looks.

" – Vinegar," she said quickly, remembering what she'd been told last night about Snatcher's allergy and the ramifications of bringing it up to his face. "I really, really hate vinegar. And with barbecue sauce, it's a fifty-fifty shot of if you're going to get vinegar in it."

The others let out a collective sigh.

"Well, might as well not let good food go to waste," Roman said as he took ahold of the plate reserved for him; Snatcher followed suit, and the pair knelt on the floor with the others, digging in to the unconventional breakfast.

"Now," Snatcher said in Frou Frou's accent –

Which, of course, invited Rémington to throw in that "There is literally no reason for you to stay in character right now."

Rémington went ignored. "Monsieur Overkill," Snatcher said, "you had mentioned this being our last night in this establishment?"

"Well, yeah," Herb told him. "We already got the crown jewels."

"Then I suppose you wish to enter our home base and become acquainted with the rest of the WHAM ARMY," Snatcher mused.

"Actually," Grany said around a mouthful of ribs, "Scarlet and Herb have plans for one more heist on this world!"

"I thought we could celebrate our alliance by stealing something together," Scarlet clarified. "Well, actually stealing something together on purpose instead of trying to one-up each other and accidentally helping each other get to the prize."

"What did you have in mind?" Snatcher asked, simultaneously unenthusiastic and curious.

"Well, remember how I said we heard rumors of actual magic on this world?" Scarlet recalled. "It's probably not true, but then again, you never know. Back when Lisa was setting up to completely backstab me, she told me about something she turned up on one of her photojournalism assignments. Apparently, there's an old manor in England with a very interesting history. Legends about curses, a family with a scandal in their past…and, most importantly, a rumor that the mansion contains a magical artifact that this family has worshipped for decades."

"So we're gonna find that artifact and steal it," Herb chuckled.

Neo punctuated this with a sly and toothy grin.

"Sounds up our alley," Roman stated. He gently nudged Snatcher with an elbow; "What do you think?"

As Snatcher's gaze met Roman's, he knew Roman was asking his opinion on more than just the robbery and its mysterious prize. Knowing he was in full possession of the power to veto the heist, he considered making use of that option. He also considered rescinding the offer of WHAM ARMY kinship to the Overkills in general. It would certainly rid him of the anger that had plagued him the night before and still remained in shadowy form in the far and crooked regions of his mind.

Yet he held back. His discussion with Roman the night prior had done wonders to expel the bulk of the aggravation, though it had left a residue. Ever the diplomat, he was aware that he was the only one in the room who had any problem with the Overkills, and to voice his disapproval would earn him the slightest bit of resentment from Neo, Rémington, and Grany. There was also part of him, a part he barely wished to acknowledge, that had held onto the memory of Scarlet connecting with him over their parallel life experiences, and suggested to him that perhaps Herb reminding him of someone he used to like could be a benefit in the form of having a version of that person in his employ, sharing his morals. Without any romantic tension, of course. In the morning light, Snatcher could see just how undesirable Herb was after all, at least in his vision.

"I do believe that is a capital idea, Madame Overkill," Snatcher stated.

"Really?" Roman was a little taken aback. He shrugged it off; "Okay then! Road trip time!"

"Our jet will be a little cramped," Scarlet admitted, "but everyone should fit if a couple of you don't mind standing – "

"Oh, Strawberry Punch," Roman sighed.

"Strawberry Punch?" Scarlet repeated. "Why am I 'Strawberry Punch'?"

"Because you wear red and you punch things! First Sour Apples, and now you? Do I have to keep EXPLAINING the nicknames?"

"Sour Apples…" Scarlet repeated. "Oh! Because GRANNY SMITH!"

"SOMEONE GETS IT!" Roman cried in relief. "Anyway, Strawberry Punch, if we're going to do this, we're going to ride in style. We're taking the WHAM ARMY ship. Seating room for everyone over there."

"All right!" Herb said with a grin. "Let's sneak out without paying for our room service and go!"

"Who said we're not paying for room service?" Roman replied playfully, fanning out several of the credit cards he'd looted from the locker room. "I say we let the fine tenants of this hotel pick up the bill for us."

...

No one in the restoration party on Terra Atmosia wanted anything to do with anyone not within their inner circle. The obvious exceptions were Kairi, Riku, and Luna, but no one would speak to any of them on the matter.

Dilan had gone back to reading, leaning up against another wall. Not too far away, Chip, Vida, Madison, and Nick hoisted another wall into place, hauling ropes on a pulley system to set it in position.

Sadira's path took her between these two parties. Looking at the Mystic Rangers, she felt a surge of ill will. How dare they bad-mouth her and her closest friends? It was enough to make her actually want to be a little evil to them. If they wanted her to be the villain so badly, she would make their day.

Sand was not the same as dirt, but there was just enough of the same makeup in their compound that Sadira could work slight magic with the earth below the Mystic Rangers' feet. She flicked her wrist toward them, causing the topsoil to shift in the slightest.

Nick, Madison, Vida, and Chip all stumbled, either leaning back or falling to knees. Madison lost her grip on her rope altogether, and the wall leaned dangerously over them.

Sadira figured they would be fine. She hadn't meant to hurt them, merely to inconvenience them. They would be on their feet soon enough.

It was a good thing the quartet hadn't seen her, though, for if they'd known of her sabotage, they would have accused her of outright attempted murder. As Madison fumbled to get her rope back, Nick lost his grip on his. The wall swung perilously. Spying the lone reader, Vida cried, "DILAN, HELP!"

The last thing Dilan wanted to do was help. But he knew fingers would be pointed at him if he didn't, so he set his book down on a nearby crate before charging toward the wall, seizing Nick's rope and hauling the wall back up into position.

Sadira, at the perfect vantage point, watched the book become unattended. "Now let's see what you've been reading about," she muttered as she picked it up. Dilan had set it down open to the last page he had been poring over. Sadira glanced at the book, finding indeed a wealth of spells. Certainly there was something in here she could stand to learn.

But as she glanced over the page, realization bubbled to the surface of her mind. It took a definite shape just before she could turn to the next page to find something sand-related. As Sadira figured out exactly what she was reading, her eyes widened.

She clutched the book and ran, not even stopping to think that it would be missed by its reader.

...

The Western Air Temple was an architectural marvel: towers and courtyards of stone built into the side of a cliff, open to the air. Here, Aang, Zuko, Katara, Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, Stork, and Jasmine were able to find some respite while they talked over their next move.

"We need to figure out what to do next," Aang said somberly.

"It…isn't obvious what we need to do next?" Stork replied.

"Yeah!" Sora agreed. "There's only one thing we can do!"

At the exact same time that Stork said "We leave," Sora insisted, "We go back and fight!"

They flinched, looking to each other.

"Uhhhhm…do you not remember how you barely got out of that city alive?" Stork told Sora.

"We can't just leave the city to burn!" Ruby broke in.

"I know that's not what anyone wants to do," Stork sighed. "This isn't how I imagined things going either."

"You're just saying that because you're scared!" Sora accused.

"SORA!" Papyrus scolded.

"Yes!" Stork growled. "I am scared! Scared of dying, scared of YOU dying, and scared that we'll make things worse! I'm scared that if we go back there, we will be able to do NOTHING but get killed! I already lost one team. I'm not losing another if there's anything I can do about it."

"But we can't just run away!" Katara argued. "Now more than ever, the people Ozai is attacking need the Avatar!"

"But how are we supposed to fight all those Heartless?" Aang asked. "We couldn't do it. That guy who was with Ozai just kept making more. I want to help, but…I'm scared too."

"If we don't do something now," Katara insisted, "Ozai will take this out of the capital! He'll burn down the rest of the Fire Nation and move on to the Earth Kingdom!"

"You're right," Zuko told her, "but without a plan, what can we do?"

"THEN THE SOLUTION IS TO THINK OF A PLAN!" Papyrus emphasized.

"Where do we even start?" Zuko asked.

"WHAT DO WE KNOW ABOUT THE HEARTLESS?" Papyrus asked. "MAYBE WE CAN PINPOINT A WEAKNESS – "

"This is a waste of time," Stork interrupted. "We just have to cut our losses and leave."

"What if we came back with the rest of the Committee?" Jasmine suggested.

"We could go find Sokka and Suki!" Aang added. "Toph could help us!"

"We might just be putting them in the same danger we're in," Zuko said somberly. "As long as we don't know how our mysterious enemy is bringing in all these Heartless, we can't win."

"And what if there isn't time?" Ruby insisted. "What if Ozai strikes again while we're gone?"

"There's no 'what if,'" Katara added. "That's exactly what he'll do."

"I dunno," Sora mused. "I already thought I knew everything about beating Heartless, and this guy still has me stumped. Maybe we should leave and come back when we have a better plan."  
"Are you SERIOUS?" Katara growled.

"None of us really knows what we can do," Aang moped.

Sora looked to Aang with a sense of finality. "It was really nice meeting you."

"You too," Aang replied. "We're still gonna be friends after all this, right?"

"Of course we are!" Sora promised.

Katara looked around in desperation, hoping someone could stop Sora from leaving. Then her eyes locked onto Ruby's silver ones.

And Ruby collapsed, falling first onto her knees and then splaying out on her back.

"RUBY!" everyone cried.

"Uuuuuggghhhh…" Ruby groaned. "I'm all dizzy…" She coughed a few times. "I think it was from breathing that plant Heartless' poison…"

"Ohhh, this is bad," Stork worried. "This is very, VERY bad."

"We have to get her back to Radiant Garden," Jasmine insisted. "Merlin and Aerith will know how to – "

"NO!" Ruby cried, shuffling back to lean against a pillar. "I don't need to go see any of them! And I don't think anybody should move me, either! I think this is the kind of sick where I just have to lay down and stay in exactly one spot for a really long time!"

Stork's worry gave way to suspicion. "Uh-huuuuuuuuh."

"Just let me rest here, okay?" Ruby asked, unfastening her cape and folding it into a makeshift pillow. "I'll feel better later. I promise."

"If you don't," Jasmine told her, suspicion beginning to rise within her mind as well, "we're going to take you back to Radiant Garden no matter what."

"I got it," Ruby said as she positioned the cape-pillow between herself and the pillar, giving a few more weak coughs.

"FEEL BETTER SOON!" Papyrus told her, before adding that he was giving her an "AUDIBLE WINK!"

"Well," Katara said, "since we're stuck here for a while, we might as well keep thinking. What DO we know about the Heartless that we could use against them?"

"Maybe there was some significance to the solstice," Aang theorized.

"The longest night of the year," Katara muttered.

"A long night?" Sora repeated. "That probably had something to do with it. The Heartless are made of Darkness, so having a long, dark night might have fueled them and made them stronger."

"Maybe they'll be weaker when the sun is up," Zuko suggested.

That seemed a good starting point for a plan, but after that, no one could seem to work out a second step. Hours passed, and as dawn filtered into the temple, the team was no closer to figuring out how to reclaim the Fire Nation capital than they had been immediately after the invasion. Ruby's condition grew no worse, but still no better; anytime anyone looked at her, she was set into a fit of coughing.

"WHATEVER HAPPENED TO MOZENRATH, ANYWAY?" Papyrus wondered out loud.

"We set his friends free," Aang reminded him. "They probably came here to do something else besides take over the Fire Nation."

"I wonder what that was," Sora pondered. "We think we figured out their pattern. They're probably here to take something magical. Though the one guy with the skull helmet seems to have this thing against dragons. Maybe they're here to fight one of those."

"I really doubt there are dragons on this world," Stork commented.

"There are," Zuko revealed. "Only two. The ancient masters of firebending. Most of the dragons on this world were wiped out by hunters who wanted the glory of killing them, but Aang and I learned important firebending techniques from the last ones living. They're hidden by the Sun Warriors."

"What if that is what Mozenrath is after?" Jasmine wondered out loud. "Or at least one of the things he's after."

"Maybe…we should go to the Sun Warriors instead of focusing on the Fire Nation Capital," Sora mused. "Maybe we can beat Mozenrath there! That would solve at least one of our problems."

"We still wouldn't have that problem if Aang hadn't set Mozenrath's friends free," Stork reminded everyone.

"But it wasn't right," Aang insisted. "They're people too. If they end up captured, it should be humanely. Not made to do someone else's dirty work with a threat hanging over them."

"I'm going to trust you on this one," Stork sighed.

"I think Sora might have the right idea," Jasmine said. "If Mozenrath is after the dragons, we need to stop him."

"And if he isn't after the dragons?" Zuko posed.

"Then we have no idea where he'll be," Sora groaned.

Besides, he thought, at least by going to the Sun Warriors, they would be doing something to help someone. They would overcome their powerlessness, at least in a small way.

"THEN WE SHALL BE OFF!" Papyrus announced. "TO THE SUN WARRIORS!"

Aang nodded. "To the Sun Warriors."

"That's really your plan?" a female voice echoed through the courtyard where the team was gathered. "I honestly expected more from you. You're starting to slip, Avatar."

All turned to view the newcomer and cry her name: "AZULA!"

"In the flesh," Azula said with a smirk. "You've also really got to come up with better hiding places. I knew you'd be here. If I wanted, I could have you flushed out of here in a heartbeat."

"What do you WANT, Azula?" Zuko barked.

"I have some information that might interest you," Azula said slyly. "That is, if you're still interested in saving the Fire Nation Capital."

"And why would YOU give that to US?" Katara asked, venom in her voice.

"Can't I do something out of the goodness of my heart?" Azula asked. "As of this moment, I'm playing both sides. Father believes I have returned to act as part of his military, and that I'm willing to let bygones be bygones. And, as he has accepted me with as open of arms as he's capable of providing, I've learned some important things. Like the fact that his Heartless-controlling friend has taken Admiral Zhao on some mission to the North Pole, leaving my father all alone on his throne. He has learned to control the Heartless to a degree…but he's also been warned not to overdo it. I think we all know how well that's going to end."

"Wait," Sora repeated. "The guy who brought all the Heartless…he's gone? Are there still Heartless in the city at all?"

"Yes," Azula told him. "There are. But who knows if they'll stick around without anyone to control them? If you go back into the city now, taking the back roads, you should be able to take my father by surprise. Zuzu would know how to get into the palace undetected."

"This is some kind of trap, isn't it?" Stork accused.

"Now, why would I lead you into a trap?" Azula asked coyly; her tone became sharp and serious on her next declaration. "If you die, then I won't get what I want."

"What DO you want?" Zuko asked her. "Why are you doing all this?"  
"BECAUSE I WANT FATHER TO DIE!" Azula screamed.

The others flinched, not expecting this reaction.

"I had enough time to think about it during my confinement," Azula growled, "and I needed to know who I could blame for my downfall. Who needed to pay. Was it you, Zuzu, for humiliating me in the Agni Kai? Was it you, waterbender, for chaining me down? I could make a case against either of you…but the truth is, I could have BEATEN both of you if not for Father. He was the one who denied me a place by his side! He was the one who clipped my wings! Had he seen what I was truly worth, I wouldn't have been confined at all! And Mother agrees with me."

"Mother?" Zuko repeated.

"She speaks to me every day now," Azula continued. "I'm well aware I'm not supposed to be hearing her, especially since I'm the only one who can. That was the first thing I learned when I was figuring out how to play the hospital's game. When they asked me if she spoke to me, I said no, even as she was leaning over my shoulder to whisper in my ear. I learned every trick, every little giveaway that would make them label me 'insane' and how to hide it all away. I learned to pass for normal in hopes that they would release me. They simply traded one prison for another, and I have to admit, I almost broke down. But I knew if I kept playing the game, I could find my way out. That was when the man with the Heartless came to free Father, and I knew I had a bargaining chip. To think Father knew I was listening the whole time, but he thought of me as too unimportant to consider a threat! All the more reason he is to blame for everything that happened to me! I would do the deed myself, but I know he is prepared for a fight against one. That's why I need you to do it for me. And before you ask, no, I'm not going to join you. Because should you fail and die, I need to be able to fall back on acting the double agent once more until I can find someone else to hire to do the dirty deed."

"We're not killing Ozai," Aang said coldly. "Even his life is precious. I'll lock him up, but I won't kill him."

"You realize what he'll do if you let him live!" Azula argued. "He burned his own people to take power. Nothing is stopping him from extending his reach to the rest of the world! You left him alive once, and you can see how well that turned out."

"WELL," Papyrus argued, "WHAT IF WE HAD TAKEN THE SAME ATTITUDE TOWARD YOU? WHAT IF AANG HAD KILLED YOU INSTEAD OF GIVING YOU A SECOND CHANCE? THEN WHERE WOULD YOU BE?"

"That's DIFFERENT." Azula bristled. "Deep down, we all want the same thing. We want him gone. I just want it done more permanently than you're willing to do."

"It wouldn't even be permanent," Jasmine argued. "Zhao was dead, and now he's alive again. If it makes no difference, he may as well live."

"If it makes no difference," Azula roared, "he may as well DIE!"

"You know," Stork sighed, "I used to think that was the only acceptable form of payback. And I still think there are some people who just need to be gotten rid of. But after hearing from so many angles that this isn't the right way to go…it's not the way I'm going. We'll take Ozai down our OWN way, thank you very much."

"We appreciate the help," Aang told Azula. "And I wish there was more we could do for you."

Azula bit her lip, imagining all the things she could do: scream, cry, incinerate. Her cold façade overtook her once more. "Well. I suppose I can't un-tell you that information. You'll just have to make your choice when the time comes."

Stork turned back to the others. "You really think we can trust this?"

"I think we all still want to save the city," Sora told him. "If we have a shot…we should take it."

"But what about Ruby?" Aang asked. "She's still sick – "

Ruby immediately leapt to her feet. "IT'S A MIRACLE!" she cried. "I'M CURED!"

"WHAT AN UNEXPECTED SURPRISE!" Papyrus chimed in, sounding utterly unconvincing.

"I KNEW you were faking!" Stork growled.

Ruby shuffled a foot on the ground. "I just wanted to buy us some time," she admitted. "I thought if we all just took some time to hang out around the temple, we'd come up with a good plan. But everyone was getting ready to leave, so I did something. I just remembered Katara's Painted Lady story and how she made it look like Appa was sick."

"I had a feeling that's what you were doing," Katara admitted.

"I don't think anyone here really thought you were that sick," Jasmine told Ruby. "But the fact that we all took that excuse to stay here says something. None of us want to give up on the city."

"BECAUSE WE ARE NOT QUITTERS!" Papyrus insisted.

"What do you think, Zuko?" Sora asked. "Think you can get us back in that palace for one more fight?"

"I know I can," Zuko said with a nod.

Sora then turned to Azula. "Last chance," he told her. "Do you wanna come fight with us, or not?"

"Like I said," Azula reminded him, "if you fail, which you certainly will if you don't intend to kill my father, then I need a cover."

"He might figure out someone tipped us off," Zuko told her.

"It's you," Azula told him. "He'll figure you were just stupid enough to run headlong into danger, as usual."

"Then this fight's not over," Sora announced.

...

Blackmoor Manor was an imposing building set out upon the moors of England, centuries old and giving the impression that it had long been a guardian over the surrounding lands. Its double doors were thick and locked with a sturdy mechanism, but for a certain clown prince of crime, this was absolutely no problem. The doors were jimmied open just wide enough for the spherical gas bomb to roll in. Then the door was quickly shut as the bomb settled in on the floor of the atrium.

There was a tiny "pop" sound as the small sphere exploded, spilling out a gas that spread throughout the entirety of the manor.

A few minutes later, Joker, Harley, and Scar crept into the atrium, gas masks with rebreathers strapped to their heads. "That was just the stuff that petrified 'em and made 'em smile, right?" Harley asked, her voice muffled by hers.

"Oh, but of course," Joker reassured her. "It's all in fun!"

He was lying, and Harley knew it. She made sure to tighten her mask a little more. Could she fault him? He was just having fun in his own way, she thought, and she was guilty of the same, of destroying moral standards in order to have fun. Murder of innocents wasn't the route she would have chosen, but she kept reminding herself that she and the Joker weren't the same person. It was still apples to apples as far as she was concerned.

"Now to get down to business," the Joker announced, withdrawing his supply of micro-cameras from his pockets. Harley and Scar removed theirs as well.

"As if it weren't demeaning enough that I'm working for a common thief," Scar sighed. "Must we really rely on letting our targets do the hard work for us? Are we not better than that?"

The Joker was already busy settling the cameras in strategic locations around the atrium. Harley took a moment to marvel at the architecture of the building around her; the floors were tiled with magnificent colors, the spacious atrium was propped up by six grand pillars with Latin mottos woven around them, the walls were adorned with the coats of arms of those who had inhabited the manor in generations past, and a sweeping stairway made a path to the upper level. She wanted to skip right up the stairs and begin placing her cameras, but first, she wished to tell Scar off.

The Joker was already busy explaining his rationale: "We could find the prize ourselves, then remove the opposing pieces from play. But wouldn't it just be that much more fun to let them think they've won, then snatch that victory right out from under them? The looks on their faces will be priceless! And I don't want the last looks they ever have on their faces to be anything short of priceless."

So was it all right to murder these people? Harley wondered. She wasn't all that gung-ho for it. But Roman Torchwick, at least, deserved it. He'd taken away the one she loved – though the space left by that love was filling up again, in a new shape that vaguely resembled the last. It only seemed fair that Harley should give Roman payback. There was nothing he could do that would make up for the crime she believed he committed: nothing short of spilling his blood, anyway. And if she couldn't make the final blow when the time came? She would bring him back to Maleficent, who would surely be proud of her for the capture.

"I wasn't meant for such lowly tasks," Scar grumbled. "I should be on the frontlines of a conquest. I was a king! And I will be king again! Not a mere thief."

"What is your PROBLEM?" Harley groaned. "This is fun! And thievin's our business! It's what we do! Well, among other crimes, but stealin's my favorite! Are you sayin' we're lowly 'cause of what we do?"

"That is exactly what I am saying," Scar droned. "No matter what, it seems I cannot get away from having absolute idiots for associates."

"HEY!" Harley snapped.

"Calling us idiots when we haven't even turned up all our cards?" Joker rebutted. "What little faith you have in us! You'll eat your words soon enough."

"When we've carried a simple stone out of this manor?" Scar retorted.

"When we've brought down the infamous Roman Torchwick," Joker reminded him. "Of course, he's only infamous among his own peers. The poor little thing thinks he can play in the big leagues. You'd think he would have realized he was in over his head the last time we met."

"That name is only meaningful to you," Scar growled. "I have no business with this Roman Torchwick!"

"You got business with Maleficent," Harley reminded him, "so ya got business with Roman Torchwick! What, you don't wanna do a favor for a friend?"

"You consider Maleficent a friend?" Scar countered.

"Well…she's gotta be," Harley insisted. "She helped bring me back up when I was down. She showed me where to go when I lost the person I loved. She ain't a good person, but I owe her a lot!"

Scar smiled beneath his mask. Harley was being played for a fool, he thought. Maleficent didn't call people like her "friend." She called them "goon." Even Scar knew better than to think he was more than a rung on a ladder; he admitted a platonic closeness to Ursula, but Maleficent was untouchable to him. She was, of course, the route he was taking to regain power, and he did resent how much more of it she had to hold than him at any given time, but that resentment was countered by hard logic: this was what he had to accept if he wanted the best route to his own throne. Harley had a hard lesson coming, and imagining how she would learn it amused Scar. Now, if only he didn't have to prove himself by associating with her and her cackling boyfriend on a thievery mission.

"It ain't like we couldn't be friends," Harley told Scar. "You'd just gotta start treatin' me and Mr. J with some respect!"

"My dear," Scar replied, "I would much rather try to outrun a horde of stampeding wildebeest."

Harley folded her arms with a "Hmph."

"Let's not forget what we came for," Joker said in a singsong tone.

As Scar planted micro-cameras throughout the lower level of the manor, Harley and Joker ascended the stairs to place them on the upper level. It was strange, Joker noted. The poison gas intended to clear out the manor's occupants didn't seem to be necessary at all, for there was no one about. The beds were empty. No one was found slumped over a chair in the library or face-down in a pool in the conservatory. A birdcage in the hallway suggested the presence of a family pet, but that creature seemed to be absent. Joker wondered why, exactly, this abode would have been completely empty, and with a bristling anger, came up with a theory that would make someone else very sorry were it true.

The trio met back up in the foyer. "The gas will dissipate by the time our little miscreants arrive," Joker announced. "They'll be able to walk in as though nothing happened. And we'll keep all of our hundred eyes on them all the while."  
"To the ice cream truck!" Harley declared.

"The indignity only gets worse," Scar groaned.

The ice cream truck, parked on the far side of the street, was outfitted with monitors that displayed views from all hundred and more micro-cameras scattered throughout the manor. The choice of vehicle had been Harley's idea, and it made her rather nostalgic. Ice cream trucks used to be a symbol of her camaraderie with Ragdoll and Firefly. The sight of one made her a little wistful. She didn't admit to herself that she had chosen one not because its interior could be easily hollowed out for the monitors, but because it was the closest she could be to her old friends without actually forgiving them.

The monitors were switched on, and from their vantage point, Joker, Harley, and Scar watched and waited, with the hyenas playing about their feet and making Scar generally uncomfortable. There wasn't an inch of Blackmoor Manor they couldn't see, they thought.

They had underestimated their target gravely.

...

The Fire Nation throne was situated on a stagelike platform at the end of a cavernous room. The lights were kept low to emphasize the flames that rose up in a wall behind the throne, illuminating the one who sat upon it.

From this perch, Ozai had assembled a small army of Heartless, called with the Darkness he now wielded. He could feel a strain upon him somewhere inside as he summoned more of the creatures, but it was mild, and he resolved not to be held back by it. A troop of Heat Sabers, resembling slim, armored figures with red-hot blades in place of hands, stood ready at attention; spherical Fiery Globes hopped in between them while the small aerial Red Nocturnes hovered above.

"This was only the beginning," Ozai told them. "From now on, you obey the will of the Phoenix King, lord of this world. We have won our first great victory in our new age, but it is time to look outward. The rest of this nation must be subjected to recognize me as its true ruler, and after that, I shall finish what I began long ago. Sozin's Comet may have passed, but there will still be plenty of opportunity to set the Earth Kingdom on fire."

"THAT'S WHAT YOU THINK!"

Ozai's gaze traveled up above the army of fire-based Heartless to see Zuko storming into the throne room, glaring his father down. Behind him, Sora, Stork, Jasmine, Katara, Papyrus, Aang, and Ruby marched, anger prevalent in their eyes.

"I expected you to return," Ozai said with a grin. "Your tenacity is perhaps the only thing you inherited from me."

"Your Heartless master is gone," Zuko stated. "And so is Admiral Zhao. You're all alone."

"And we're gonna take you down and throw you back in your prison cell where you belong!" Sora cried.

"You're wrong," Ozai said calmly. "So long as I am tied to the Darkness, I am never alone. You see a fraction of my army before me."

The Heat Sabers, Red Nocturnes, and Fiery Globes all turned to face the intruding heroes in one fluid motion.

"Destroy them," Ozai commanded before another word could be said.

The Heat Sabers spun toward their targets; the Globes bounded and the Nocturnes zipped about, bodies ablaze. The troop of heroes was ready for them. Ruby cut through the Nocturnes with ease with Crescent Rose. Jasmine impaled Nocturne after Nocturne. Stork pinned back the limbs of each Heat Saber long enough for Katara to send her water, in the form of a spear of ice, right through it. Papyrus batted the Globes to Aang, who dizzied them up with cyclones of wind until Papyrus could impale them with sharp-edged bones. Zuko directed the flames of the Heartless army away from Sora long enough for the Keybearer to cut his way through without any fear of getting burned.

Ozai was at a disadvantage and he knew it. His challengers were making smoke and ash out of his guardians. He drew upon the Darkness further, summoning still more of the flaming Heartless. As he did so, a black aura tinted with purple and blue began to fester around his body.

More Heat Sabers charged at the would-be heroes. They were cut down almost immediately. Ozai grit his teeth, knowing he had to call in heavier artillery. Throwing his hands outward to the battlefield his throne chamber had become, he summoned a quartet of Volcanic Lords: bulbous Heartless with transparent exteriors that revealed the red heat within.

The Darkness crawled through his body, preying upon his recent summon of the creatures. He had called far too much of it into his soul, more than his body could handle. Only when it was too late did he realize his heart had been engulfed, and he was changing. His mind was dulling rapidly, distilling the scene before him into one clear threat that needed to be eliminated and nothing else that mattered. His arms spread out to either side, lengthening. His face narrowed and sharpened.

Sora cut down the first Volcanic Lord in time to witness Ozai's transformation; the attention of Katara, Stork, and Papyrus was also captured by it. Aang, Jasmine, Ruby, and Zuko kept fighting around them to keep them from being stabbed in the back while their focus was diverted.

They saw Ozai's body warp into that of an enormous bird, red armor clasped around its chest, wings of flaming red feathers spreading out to either side. Directly over the center of his abdomen, a symbol of a heart fractured by an X shimmered. His beak pried open, and he screeched, a wave of flame riding on his breath. He beat his wings once, twice, rising from the throne and sailing out over the battlefield.

"He's a Heartless!" Sora realized.

"WHAT DO WE DO NOW?" Papyrus asked.

"He's gone," Sora said. "It's not even him anymore."

"I think Azula is getting her wish," Katara said in awe.

While Jasmine, Aang, Zuko, and Ruby busied themselves cleaning up the last of Ozai's Heartless army, Sora led Stork, Katara, and Papyrus in a charge against the great Heartless, the Providence Phoenix. The Phoenix gave another cry, beating its wings and raining a shower of fire upon its attackers. Katara threw her water up into the air, spreading it out to absorb the falling fire like a shield, dousing the attack. Sora used that cover to leap and strike at the Phoenix, beating his Keyblade against the red armor.

Stork, covered by a shield of rotating bones courtesy of Papyrus, slipped around behind the Phoenix, leaping onto its back to pry away the armor. He was successful, and the hard red breastplate fell away.

Sora's blade struck against the Phoenix' flesh, causing the massive bird to scream again, swiping Sora aside with a wing. It landed on the ground, tilting its head upward and fanning out its wings to full length. From its mouth, a fountain of lightning erupted, bolts spreading out in all directions.

Aang and Zuko both caught the bolts headed for them, letting the electricity flow through their bodies before they redirected it at the Phoenix. However, Ruby's back was turned, Jasmine was too focused on spearing the final Volcanic Lord, and Stork knew well that Papyrus' attention had been on shielding him and not on protecting himself.

"RUBY!" Katara rushed toward the girl in red.

"JASMINE!" Sora charged toward the princess.

"PAPYRUS, NO!" Stork leapt in front of the skeleton.

Katara, Sora, and Stork were each struck by a bolt of lightning, collapsing and shuddering to the ground. Ruby, Jasmine, Aang, Zuko, and Papyrus could only view the scene with horror.

The Phoenix was barking now, almost seeming to be laughing.

"OH, NO…" Papyrus moaned, looking at his felled friends. Turning his gaze upward to the Phoenix, he announced, "WELL, NOW YOU'VE DONE IT! YOU'VE JUST EARNED ONE SPECIAL ATTACK! I HOPE YOU'RE READY!"

The Phoenix rose up from the ground again, beating its wings.

"THAT'S ALL THE WARNING YOU GET!" Papyrus insisted. "NOW YOU HAVE TO DEAL WITH MY SPECIAL ATTACK!"

This time, there was no dog around to ruin the execution of the attack. A pair of massive skulls, each shaped more like something that would come from a dragon than a human skeleton, flanked Papyrus. As Papyrus fueled them with magic, they opened their jaws, and twin beams of nearly blinding white energy shot forth, piercing into the Phoenix.

The Phoenix collapsed to the ground, stunned but not destroyed by this attack. One could almost see stars spinning around its head.

"KEEP IT DOWN!" Ruby cried as she raised Crescent Rose.

Aang swept a wide swath of wind over the Phoenix's wings, blowing out the flames and revealing ordinary crimson feathers. Zuko and Jasmine rushed to pin the wings down and prevent the Phoenix from rising. Ruby bolted, giving a scream as she swung her blade.

The Phoenix's head was neatly lopped off before the scythe planted into its back, cutting all the way down into its chest. It burst into one final bout of flame, forcing Zuko and Jasmine to hurry away; the fires consumed what was left of its body as Ozai's heart burst free from its captivity, rising up and passing through the palace ceiling.

"Katara!" Aang and Zuko hurried to their fallen friend's side. "KATARA!"

"SORA!" Jasmine and Ruby yelled as they ran to the Keybearer.

"STORK?" Papyrus knelt over the one who'd taken the blast for him. "ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?"

With a grunt, Stork twisted up into a sitting position. "I'm…fine. Shaken, but fine. I don't know HOW I survived that, but I'm not going to question it."

Katara was also prying herself up. "I'm okay," she reassured Zuko and Aang.

Aang quickly enveloped Katara in a tight embrace. "I was scared I lost you," he moaned.

Katara wrapped her own arms around him. "Sorry I scared you."

"Don't apologize! It was that Heartless that hurt you."

They backed up just enough to look into each other's eyes, then shared a quick kiss, thankful to still have each other. Zuko looked away quickly, flushing, not meaning to view their private moment.

Sora sat up and looked at where the Phoenix had burned. "Nice job, team!" he congratulated. "We got Ozai off the throne! Kinda wish that had gone a little differently, but…"

"We had to free his heart," Aang stated.

Sora shuffled to stand upright. "I wonder if that got rid of any of the Heartless in the city," he mused.

Jasmine gingerly approached Zuko. "Are you all right?"

"I'm just glad he's not hurting anyone anymore," Zuko sighed.

"Well…" Sora trailed off, looking to Aang for support. "That depends."

"Heartless only capture part of a person," Aang told Zuko. "Ozai's body and soul could have ended up somewhere completely else as a Nobody. It would basically be Ozai, but without a heart, so he couldn't feel anything."

"How is that different from my father with a heart?" Zuko questioned.

"He might not have been strong enough," Sora told him. "His Nobody might just be a Dusk or something not that powerful. But if he had enough power, his Nobody might have his face and his mind. Ozai could still be out there."

"And maybe more importantly," Jasmine reminded everyone, "so is Mozenrath."

...

It was the dead of night: the perfect time for a stealthy break-in.

Instead, Roman Torchwick opted to blow the doors of Blackmoor Manor off their hinges.

Snatcher strode in, heels clicking on the multicolored tiles, as Roman, Rémington, Grany, Neo, Scarlet, and Herb filed in behind him. "Find me the residents of this lovely abode," Snatcher commanded in Frou Frou's accent, "and make sure they will not present any problems."

The group fanned out only to find what Joker had discovered earlier: the occupants of Blackmoor Manor had all gone missing. Some noticed that the air tasted a bit sour, but as it was no longer deadly, none put two and two together.

"Sooooo…it looks like we're alone in the house?" Herb reported as the group thronged around Snatcher in the atrium.

"Curious," Snatcher muttered. "Peculiar indeed. No matter. We shall begin the work of finding this hidden treasure at once. I severely doubt that it is as hidden as its owners would like us to believe. Perhaps it is kept in a safe, but nothing of any higher security."

"Where should we start?" Scarlet asked.

"How about by having Rémy go fuck with something until it opens a secret door?" Roman suggested.

...

"That was NOT supposed to work AGAIN," Roman said as he stared, open-mouthed, at the panel in the wall that had slid aside when Rémington had, upon discovering that one of the gargoyles mounted in the upper hall was loose on its pedestal, tried turning it this way and that.

"What can I say?" Rémington replied with pride. "I have, shall we say, a magic touch."

"It's dark," Snatcher observed. "I wouldn't enter without a light to see by."

"I got this!" Herb and Roman said at the same time. Roman held up a cigarette lighter, its end aflame. Herb produced a flashlight from his jacket pocket. Neo pointed to the flashlight, whose beam was much more powerful than Roman's tiny flame.

The group wandered in, fenced in by narrow walls and moving in single file, with Snatcher and Scarlet in the lead. The passage ended at a wall with a stone eye carved in it and an inscription above. Scarlet raised the flashlight to read the etched words: "Only the blameless shall pass here…"

Her voice changed to muttering as she finished off the paragraph.

"What is it?" Rémington asked from the back of the group, trying to hop up to look over Grany's shoulder.

"Well," Scarlet said, "according to this, if we don't give the wall the name of someone innocent who was condemned for saving lives, we'll be cursed to become horrible beasts."

"How ominous," Snatcher remarked casually.

Scarlet turned her attention to the stone eye; a keypad was carved in its center, with a different Norse rune on each tile. "Does anyone here know Norse letters?" she asked. "We need to spell the word 'Elinor.'"

"Why 'Elinor'?" Snatcher asked.

"Because I've done my research on the family that owns this place," Scarlet told him, "and Elinor Penvellyn was tried for witchcraft. If anyone was wrongfully condemned, it was her."

"Good for you," Snatcher muttered. "You just know so much about everything, don't you?"

Apparently, his resentment hadn't fully faded. Scarlet gave him a surprised look that melted into a glare. "I do my research," she growled.

"So why's it Norse?" Herb asked.

"I have no idea," Scarlet replied. "I have nothing on the Penvellyns ever having a Scandinavian branch."

"So the way I see it, we have one of two options," Roman said. "We can either let Rémy loose on the panel and have him punch random buttons – "

"I'd be happy to," Rémington said.

"Or we could look around for something that actually translates those letters," Roman concluded.

"I vote we take the second route," Snatcher stated.

"I mean, a mansion this big, it's gotta have a library, right?" Scarlet suggested.

...

The manor did indeed have a library, but the answer was not found there. The group had split up to cover all bases, and while Herb and Rémington looked over the library's fare, Neo examined one of the unoccupied bedrooms, finding a textbook that laid out Norse runes and their phonetics for easy understanding.

It was back to the passage then, where Scarlet entered the word "Elinor" and watched the wall slide away.

"Told you," she said to Snatcher.

"There's no need to gloat," Snatcher growled. "I certainly could have figured that one out myself, had I wanted."

"Really?" Scarlet asked as they descended further into the hallway. "You would have known enough about the Penvellyn history to spell 'Elinor'?"

"Madame Overkill, let us drop the subject."

They came to the end of the hall, where more tiles on the wall awaited in the shape of triangles that could be pointed various directions. "Another puzzle?" Scarlet said out loud.

"No, Madame Overkill," Snatcher told her, gesturing to where the tiles met up with the corner of the wall, presumably continuing on the other side. "HALF of another puzzle."

...

"All right," Roman announced as he descended from a stairway, "I figured out that the weird sound effects the stairs made were the order you were supposed to pull the levers at the top of the tower, and now I have a key to…something. I'm starting to think whoever designed this place was a sadistic fuck."

"That key probably has nothing to do with getting the thing we're looking for," Grany told him. He was, of course, wrong.

Herb skidded in. "Okay, so, not to brag, but I totally just hacked into one of the downstairs computers."

"Maybe now we can start getting some answers," Roman sighed.

...

The computer initiated a sequence in which several tiny luminescent ghosts popped up from hiding places around the manor, allowing a set timeframe to touch them all in order to receive a clue toward the next step.

"I told you," Roman growled as he slapped one of the ghosts on the railing of the stairs. "Designed by a sadistic fuck!"

...

"Okay, this is getting nuts," Roman sighed as he found himself, Snatcher, and Rémington adjusting the claws of a dragon-shaped statue found behind a door whose lock Roman had to pick. It was a convoluted set of clues that had led them to discover exactly what position each claw had to be set to.

"It isn't as bad as all that," Snatcher reassured. "I'm certain our prize is mere moments away."

The wall fell away, revealing a passage beyond.

"Someone fetch Monseiur Overkill," Snatcher demanded. "We are in need of his light once more."

Roman turned an about-face only to be struck by an odd sight. "Does the bottom of this shelf look loose to you?"

"Now who's messing with random things?" Rémington said as Roman grasped one of the pinions of the shelf and discovered it to be a lever.

Pulling the lever revealed an altogether different passageway, one with a much shorter door. "Is that what I THINK it is?" Roman wondered out loud as he stepped inside.

It was, indeed, a slide. And when Roman set foot on it, he slipped, suddenly careening down the length of the metal.

"Anyway," Scarlet told Neo as they and Herb crossed the atrium, "the moral of the story is don't try to pilot a torpedo-outfitted submarine through a waterpark."

This was punctuated by a segment of wall opening up to spit Roman directly out at them, giving him a less than graceful landing on the floor.

"Hey, Herb-al Tea," Roman said as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. "We're gonna need your flashlight."

...

The new passageway opened by the dragon led to another puzzle-blocked wall, one that required passwords to match hint words provided.

"Simple word association," Snatcher bragged as he entered "bonnet" to the word "baby." "Simple for me, anyhow."

"Can I try one?" Scarlet asked.

"ABSOUTELY NOT," Snatcher growled. Catching himself, he laughed; "Too many cooks do spoil the soup, after all. And look! I've finished."

The wall slid open, revealing even more corridor beyond. After a descent of some length, the group reached the wall with the other half of the triangle puzzle.

"I actually think I figured out how to do this one when we were investigating the library," Roman muttered, fidgeting with the tiles. "I took the liberty of going in and cleaning up the one on the other side. You're welcome."

This opened a new door, one that led deeper into the bowels of the manor.

"Okay, this is getting way creepy," Herb said with a shudder.

"You don't have to go in if you don't want," Scarlet told him. "We still have a lot to figure out in the upper level, anyway. The room with the star chart, that keyhole that won't move, that weird game machine…"

"We'd better split up again," Roman said decisively, thinking about how he wanted to try liberating a stick of butter from the kitchen to grease up the keyhole Scarlet had mentioned, and it was best to keep butter as far away from Snatcher as possible. "This hallway looks like a job for the leader of our little group." He clapped Snatcher on the shoulder. "Take it away."

"You'll need this," Herb said as he handed Snatcher the flashlight.

"I would be quite honored," Snatcher stated. "I do agree; this is a job best suited for one such as myself. Who knows what risks there are to be taken with exploring the depths?"

"I'm going with you," Scarlet volunteered.

"Madame Overkill," Snatcher told her, "that will most certainly not be necessary."

"I want to see what's down there," Scarlet told him. "We went to all the work of opening this passage up. I'm not missing out on this."

"There is really no need." Snatcher's teeth gritted.

"I," Scarlet insisted, "want. To go."

"I'd rather you – "

"Give me ONE GOOD REASON I shouldn't go into that passage."

Snatcher cleared his throat. "Well, it could potentially prove hazardous to a woman of your fragility – "

"That's it." Scarlet swiped the flashlight from Snatcher's hand and marched forward. "I'm going. Follow me or be left behind."

Grumbling, Snatcher had no choice but to catch up to Scarlet.

That left everyone else to find their way back up to the main level in the dark. "Am I the only one picking up some seriously bad vibes off Frou Frou?" Herb asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Roman lied.

"I dunno," Herb went on. "Ever since Wickford, I just get the feeling that your team leader doesn't like Scarlet and me for some reason."

"That does seem to be what's happening," Grany mused. He and Rémington mulled this information over.

"You're reading the situation wrong," Roman insisted. "It's nothing. Anyway, about that keyhole…"

Neo knew Roman was covering for something, but she knew better than to dig.

Down in the passageway beneath the manor, a faint green glow led Scarlet to open up a compartment in the wall that contained a luminous lime-colored stone. "Now we both have one," she said as she picked up the rock and handed the flashlight off to Snatcher.

"Another miraculous discovery by Madame Overkill," Snatcher sighed as he took hold of the flashlight.

"Okay, what is your problem?" Scarlet asked as she pried open the nearby door.

"Problem?" Snatcher repeated. "My dear, I haven't the faintest what you're talking about."

"Oh, you know EXACTLY what I'm talking about," Scarlet growled as she stormed ahead to open the next door, a set of double doors with the arrow-and-circle of Mars engraved upon it in four places. "You have a problem with me."

"Madame Overkill, I can assure you, you are quite mistaken – "

"No. I'm not," Scarlet grunted as she and Snatcher passed through the Mars door.

Immediately after shutting the door, they both felt a shuddering motion; they had entered a small chamber, with sets of double doors on all sides, and the floor had just changed position. "Okay, I think the room just moved on us," Scarlet said worriedly.

"What do you mean, it moved?" Snatcher repeated.

"I mean it MOVED," Scarlet told him. "This room is MOVING. Hang on. Let's try another one."

They moved through another set of doors to feel the same motion again.

"Definitely moving rooms," Scarlet identified. "We'd better stay together if we don't want to get split up. Unless that's what you want."

They progressed, or at least tried to, through the labyrinth of rotating rooms. "Whyever would I want such a thing, Madame Overkill?" Snatcher asked innocently.

"I don't know!" Scarlet groaned in frustration. "But do you remember why I wanted to take the queen's crown back home in the first place?"

"For power."

"Well, yes," Scarlet sighed, "but more importantly, I wanted everyone to like me! You can't not like the queen! And if you don't like the queen, she has the power to execute you! All my life, I've just wanted everyone to like me! Now here I am, making friends with fellow villains who share my interests, and most of them like me. Except you. You got mad at me and stormed out of the juice bar, and ever since then, you've been passive-aggressive at both me and Herb. We have so much in common! We were going to be siblings! And you seemed to like me at first! So I need to know: WHY DON'T YOU LIKE ME?"

Snatcher knew denial would prove fruitless. "It's complex to explain," he said in his natural timbre. "Also, what is on that pedestal?"

The room they had entered was identical to all the other moving rooms but for a pedestal that ended in a vague cauldron shape. Inside the cauldron lay a small tile depicting a loop of lines, squares marked with stick-figure angels and devils, and a bright red dot.

"I have no idea what this is," Scarlet stated.

"Then give it to someone competent!" Snatcher barked.

"I would," Scarlet retorted, "but you're the only one here." She forked over the tile.

Snatcher examined it, holding it to the flashlight to pore over its details. "I've no idea what this is."

"That's what I said!"

"Let us just forget about it and press onward."

They moved into the next room. "So, are you going to answer my question?" Scarlet asked.

"I said it's complex."

"Well, we're going to get nowhere if you don't at least TRY to explain it to me!"

Snatcher grit his teeth. "To put it most simply," he said, "because of certain factors, you got everything I ever wanted. And now you've your sights set on ridding me of the rapport I've built up with my fellows in the WHAM ARMY. Torchwick I can count on, but Misters Smisse and Miss Neopolitan are thoroughly charmed with you. And, as you and I have so much in common save for your naturally social demeanor, it's a matter of time before they gravitate toward you and away from me. I'd half considered rescinding your membership in the WHAM ARMY. Then you'd be my problem no longer!"

Scarlet was silent for a moment. Then: "I didn't volunteer to come down here because I wanted to see these rooms. I came down here so I could get you alone."

"You intended to kill me, is that it? Where no one would know?"

"No!" Scarlet said, offended. "I came down here to get you to TALK about this! I thought maybe you didn't want to tell the truth in front of everyone else! I don't want to kill you! I don't want to replace you, either! I NEVER wanted that! I just wanted you and your friends to like me because I like you and your friends! If I wanted you out, I wouldn't be bothering you about this!" She sighed. "And about me getting everything you wanted. Did you miss the part where I LOST everything you wanted? I don't know what makes you think I could have gotten the power you were looking for, but I had it, and I lost it. You and me, we BOTH lost everything. You being me wouldn't have made a single difference."

They stood stone still in the room they'd made it to, yet another room identical to the last score. "Well?" Scarlet prodded. "Do you just want to kick me off the team? Keep your friends to yourself?"

"No," Snatcher insisted.

"Then stop being such a jerk to me about things that didn't happen and won't happen!"

There was another silence before Snatcher admitted, "I suppose I've got to. You raise quite a valid point, Mrs. Overkill. In all honesty, you did strike me as somewhat of a kindred spirit. That, along with the faith I have in your skills, is what's keeping you my ally."

"Can we just be friends?" Scarlet asked plaintively. "No competition?"

"That we can," Snatcher sighed. "I shall correct my behavior appropriately. Do not, however, make me apologize."

"I won't," Scarlet promised.

"Because I'm not one for apologies."

"Just so long as you start treating me like I'm at least your teammate. What actually started all this, anyway?"

"You'll think it petty," Snatcher told her, "but your husband reminded me of someone I had a falling-out with and failed to win over. That set off a chain of similar thoughts regarding your successes."

"You're jealous of me and Herb?" Scarlet repeated. "I thought you were with Roman."

"I am."

"And aren't you happy?"

"Ecstatic!" Snatcher replied without missing a beat.

"Then why are you mad about me and Herb?" Scarlet asked.

"You know…I can't think of a good reason," Snatcher confessed. "Shall we end it at that?"

"If you got everything out on the table, then I don't think we have anything else to talk about."

"Besides the fact that we're going in circles," Snatcher commented.

"Are we?" Scarlet asked. "Because I thought we just resolved everything – "

"Not in conversation, Mrs. Overkill. In this labyrinth. These rooms have been shuffling us back around to where we started."

"I refuse to die down here," Scarlet growled.

"If only we had some sort of map – " Snatcher was hit with the realization. "The tile." He held it back out to the light. The position of the red spot had changed. "This red spot is us. Appropriate color, I should say. It tracks our position through the labyrinth using some sort of magic."

"Or magnets," Scarlet suggested. "Probably magnets."

"If we pay attention to how the rooms move," Snatcher realized, "and track the red spot's position, we can navigate our way! Though I'm not quite sure where our destination is…"

Scarlet pointed to the upper edge of the tile. "I'd say marking a spot with an angel is a pretty good indicator that it's the right place to go," she observed.

"Well spotted, Mrs. Overkill."

"You figured out the hard part."

They smiled at each other, aware that their bridge had been mended.

Using the new information of the map, Scarlet and Snatcher figured out the pattern of the rooms, finally reaching the doors that opened upon the end of the road, marked by a wall with another carved eye in it. Set in this eye was yet another tile puzzle.

"Okay, you'd think that the MOVING ROOMS would be enough of a security device to stop people from getting in here," Scarlet sighed. "This door did NOT NEED ANOTHER LOCK."

Snatcher was quietly surveying the tiles, shining his light over the engravings. A grid of symbols that looked familiar to him took up the left half. They were connected by an etched line to a center tile with a glyph of a cauldron, and the right side of the puzzle displayed a larger symbol, again sparking something in Snatcher's memory.

"It kind of looks like the Norse runes," Scarlet muttered, "but it's not Norse runes…"

"No, it isn't," Snatcher realized. "These symbols are alchemical."

"How do you know that?"

"I've friends, other founders of the WHAM ARMY, who utilize alchemy," Snatcher explained. "They've tried to give me an explanation or two. Were my mind not on more important matters at the time, I could easily have picked up the art. As it stands…" He withdrew his scroll. "We'll need to call for backup."

"Your friends?" Scarlet asked.

"Quite so," Snatcher informed her. "Lord Mozenrath will certainly be able to explain this."

He attempted to call Mozenrath, but found the line busy. "In that case," he muttered, "Mr. Vexen will know."

But that line was also occupied. "Well, it's Plan C then," Snatcher resolved, dialing a third number and putting the connection on speaker.

On the other side of the line, a woman's voice rasped, "Whoever this is, you had better have a VERY good reason for calling me in the middle of an absolutely important facial!"

"Miss Yzma!" Snatcher greeted. "Good to speak to you as well."

"Snatcher?"

"Quite so," Snatcher answered. "And I've brought a friend."

"Uh…hi?" Scarlet said gingerly. "Scarlet Overkill here. I'm apparently joining your WHAM ARMY."

"Welcome aboard," Yzma said dryly. "This still doesn't explain why you had to call me in the middle of spa day."

"Spa day?" Scarlet repeated. "Lucky you!"

"Yes, yes, lucky me," Yzma answered, "if only I weren't bothered by scroll calls." In the background, there was the muttering of a male voice. Yzma replied to that voice, "It's Archibald Snatcher. He's got a new friend." Back in the mouthpiece, Yzma said, "Zevon says hellolutations."

"Er…Zevon?" Snatcher repeated.

"Zevon!" Yzma insisted. "My long-lost son, Zevon! We had this revelation right before you left!"

"Well, tell your son we say hi!" Scarlet chirped.

"They say hello," Yzma said away from the scroll. Then, back to the mouthpiece, "Now, if you don't give me a good reason for this call in the next ten seconds, I'm hanging up."

"You know alchemy," Snatcher explained, "and we need a primer in alchemy."

"Why do you need to know ALCHEMY?" Yzma asked, astounded.

"A puzzle lock guarding a very unnecessary door," Snatcher told her.

"Speaking as someone whose name is literally 'Overkill,'" Scarlet added, "this is overkill."

"All right," Yzma sighed, "tell me what you're looking at."

"A grid of various symbols on one side," Snatcher said, "a cauldron in the middle, and a much larger symbol on the other."

"What's the big one look like?" Yzma asked.

"A sort of inverted triangle," Snatcher described, "with lines extending from its right side."

"Ah, aqua fortis!" Yzma identified. "I think I see where this is going. In the grid, is there a circle with a line through it?"

"Yes…"

"That's nitre," Yzma explained. "Is there also a circle bisected from the top down, with its right half bisected horizontally, and a bit of a tail extending from the right?"

"Also there."

"Vitriol," Yzma identified. "Combine one part nitre and one part vitriol to make your aqua fortis."

"Mrs. Overkill?" Snatcher gestured to the grid. "Would you do the honors?"

Scarlet pressed the buttons for nitre and vitriol, then the cauldron tile. The aqua fortis shape changed to another.

"All right, that seems to have worked," Snatcher relayed, "but now the symbol has changed to an inverted triangle with a letter 'R.'"

"Aqua regia," Yzma identified. "This is child's play."

Yzma talked Snatcher and Scarlet through five symbols, after which there was a groaning as the wall gave way. "That's done it!" Snatcher announced. "Much appreciated help, Miss Yzma!"

"Eh, what are friends for if not describing the ingredients to hypothetical alchemical concoctions during spa day?" Yzma said casually.

"Speaking of spa day," Snatcher concluded, "we shall leave you to it. We can most certainly take it from here."

"It was nice to meet you!" Scarlet added. "Well…sort of meet you."

"Let me know what was behind that door when you get back," Yzma said before hanging up.

"She seemed smart," Scarlet commented.

"In many regards, she is very much so," Snatcher told Scarlet, "but do not let her come up with the overall game plan for anything."

Beyond the last wall, the flashlight and glowing green rock were no longer necessary. The room beyond was devoted largely to a glowing forge. Crude weapons, swords and axes, were pinned to the wall. Spread around the room were tables filled with beakers and glasses of variegated shapes and sizes.

"Is this an alchemy room?" Scarlet wondered out loud as she stepped inside, casting her gaze about in awe.

"I would guess so," Snatcher said as he followed. His attention was drawn to one of the side walls, where a metal hexagon with a large vertical slot inset adorned the wall. "Now, what's this?"

"Maybe some kind of vault," Scarlet guessed. "It kind of reminds me of a keyhole."

"If only we had that spiky-headed child's sword," Snatcher muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing. Let us search about. There must be more here than meets the eye."

Scarlet approached the edge of the forge while Snatcher moved to one of the tables, picking up a leather-bound book. Scarlet traced the forge's lip, picking up dust on her black glove. Her hand alit on a metal mold inset with several crosses; it looked to her to be the same size and shape as the keyhole. "Mr. Snatcher?" she announced. "I think I found something for making the key to that hole."

"Let me see." Snatcher carried the worn book with him as he approached Scarlet. "It certainly does look to be the same shape. But how does one configure these crosses?" He ran his finger over the mold, showing that the crosses could depress or be raised in different patterns.

"Is there an answer in that book?" Scarlet asked.

"Not that I've found yet," Snatcher said with a sly grin, one that manifested of the need to cover frustration by forcing that frustration upon someone else. "But do you know what I did find?"

"Do I WANT to know what you did find?"

"Several references, Mrs. Overkill," Snatcher revealed, "to a host more puzzles required to start the forge."

It took a moment for Scarlet to absorb that information. Then she growled, "Roman was right about the person who designed this."

...

Every wall and bridge in the city that housed the Northern Water Tribe was the soft blue-white color of ice. Architecturally, it was a marvel, with canals serving as the streets between towering buildings. Vexen might have found it aesthetically pleasing if he were not focused on his conversation with Ravess during his walk down the side of the main canal.

"And what was I supposed to do?" he barked into the scroll. "Let them be taken by the enemy?...No, of course I have no true attachment to them, but we are allies for a reason…It would have been far more trouble than it was worth…You expected SMARTER? From ME? How DARE you!..."

"This lovers' quarrel has been going on for hours," Wuya sighed as she, the Huntsman, Mim, and Xayide trailed behind Vexen.

Vexen turned away from the scroll long enough to yell "WE ARE NOT LOVERS!" at Wuya before pressing the device back to his face. "Never you mind…No, you don't want to know…Stop trying to change the subject!..."

"Also, are we just going to ignore the fact that we were saved by our archenemies?" Wuya said to the other three. "Our OTHER archenemies, I mean."

"I'd rather ignore it," Mim huffed. "I don't want any of them claiming we owe them for this!"

"What would drive them to release us?" the Huntsman wondered out loud. "We have caused them nothing but pain."

"You almost say that like you regret it," Xayide pointed out.

"Make no mistake, I do not," the Huntsman told her. "I would cause them a century more of pain. They stand in our way and protect impure creatures. Everything we have dealt them, they have asked for, and more. I look forward to the day we can finally be rid of them permanently. I pose the question because I do not understand why they have shown us what to them would seem a kindness. They have hardly seen fit to let us have our way before."

"Facilier crossed a line," Wuya told him. "Everyone could see that. And those people were just too GOOD to let him get away with it. That's how good works. It's absolutely frustrating on the best of days. We should have been able to figure out a way to set ourselves free with nothing but pure evil!"

"We would have," the Huntsman told her, "had we been allotted more time."

"Perhaps we should not resent the events that have taken place," Xayide suggested. "Thanks to their help, we are now free much sooner than we would have been otherwise."

"I'm still going to kill them," Mim huffed.

"As am I," Xayide agreed. "I am in no debt."

"We're all agreed on that one," Wuya said with a nod.

"The monsters first," the Huntsman grunted. "The humans among them may die after watching their monster companions fall."

"I am still troubled that we were made so helpless," Xayide admitted. "Even with all our powers combined – "

"Lingering on that is just going to open up a can of worms," Wuya warned. "The last thing we need is any doubt. We made it here, Mozenrath is on his way, and we're going to save him."

"I'm going to kill Facilier, too," Mim went on. "And that Zhao. And Ozai! I'm killing them all, and you can't stop me!"

"No one wants to stop you," Wuya told her. "We all want to help you."

"First, we must be better prepared against Facilier's mastery of the Darkness," the Huntsman stated. "Perhaps there exists a weapon that can offer us an advantage. We shall look into it once our business here is concluded."

Vexen looked back over his shoulder. "Their ferry is coming through the gates of ice now," he informed them. Back to the scroll: "Yes, I have just INFORMED them of that!..."

"Well, let's go!" Mim encouraged.

Waterbenders controlled the gates leading into the city, opening pathways through gargantuan walls of ice that could not have existed without the waterbending art. The ferry docked at the inner canal, letting its passengers off: a rare and new occurrence, since mass transit to and from the North Pole had only truly begun after the war ended. Mozenrath remained propped up on Aghoul, but still he stood. Ragdoll cartwheeled down the gangplank to wait for them at the bottom; Ravess trailed, still locked in an argument with Vexen.

"Well, then, try not to get your souls stolen on the way here! Or is that too much to ask?" she snapped. "It's a reasonable question!...Well, you've given me reason to!..."

"Are you really going to keep tying up my phone talking to your boyfriend?" Mozenrath sighed.

Ravess reached over and flicked him hard on the nose.

"I'M DYING," Mozenrath snapped at her.

"I don't care!" Ravess retorted. Then, in the scroll: "Oh, Mozenrath was just being insufferable…No, I don't care that he's dying, and I didn't think you would either!...I meant that in regards to punishing him for being insufferable! Not that I wanted to let him DIE!...Of COURSE I know how lost we'd be without him!"

"Then you'll make sure he gets here in one piece!" Vexen's voice was heard from a distance.

"Why are you so worried about ME letting him come to harm?" Ravess barked. "You're the one who got your soul stolen!"

"And you're the one who walked into a nest of Dai Li!" Vexen's voice was getting closer.

"Without a scratch on me!" Ravess argued. "And why was Mozenrath captured by the Dai Li in the first place? One of YOU should have been keeping watch!"

The two groups drew ever nearer, guided by the beacon of Ravess and Vexen's bickering voices:

"And which one of us could have been spared to do such a thing?"

"Literally any of you!"

"I knew what I was doing!"

"It doesn't look that way to me!"

"Do YOU know what YOU'RE doing?"

"I should think I do! I've been doing it well up to this point!"

At last, both factions came within sight of each other on the sidewalk. As soon as they made eye contact, Ravess and Vexen hung up the scrolls simultaneously. Vexen pocketed his while Ravess handed Mozenrath's back to him. They strode toward each other with three long paces each before continuing their argument to each other's face:

"We couldn't have afforded to lose the three of you too!"

"What was I supposed to do? Let Mozenrath die?"

"You are an archer! You fall short at close-rate combat! What if you had been eliminated?"

"But I WASN'T! Why is that so difficult to understand?"

The others ignored the quarreling pair.

"GHOULIE!" Mim charged Aghoul, who let Mozenrath fall clumsily to the ground in order to catch her and embrace her with both arms.

"My Mimsie!" Aghoul replied as he and Mim began to kiss sloppily and heavily.

"I am still dying," Mozenrath muttered from the ground.

The Huntsman was immediately kneeling at his side, looping an arm around him to help him stand. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"I don't think I'm any worse than since you left me," Mozenrath answered. "I'm still not, by any definition, doing well. But no worse."

"He must have been thrilled to see YOU on the rescue team," Wuya told Ragdoll.

"Who wouldn't be?" Ragdoll replied coyly. "Look at us. Together again! This is cause for celebration, wouldn't you think?"  
"Those two would disagree," Xayide said as she eyed Ravess and Vexen.

"There is no time to celebrate," the Huntsman insisted. "Mozenrath's situation is still dire. We must get him to a comfortable place where he can rest, then set to acquiring these Spirit Waters."

"Let's get moving," Wuya stated as she turned and stalked back into town.

The Huntsman helped Mozenrath move along behind her. Ragdoll and Xayide turned to follow.

"Keep up or get left behind," Mozenrath snapped at the four stragglers.

Mim and Aghoul reluctantly broke up their makeout session to tag along. Ravess and Vexen decided they could walk and argue at the same time.

They settled Mozenrath in at an inn, tucking him into bed much as they'd done in Ba Sing Se. Vexen abandoned his argument with Ravess long enough to give him advice: "It is truly imperative that you do not move. You have strained yourself enough already. I am surprised you have lasted this long."

"What can I say?" Mozenrath replied coyly. "I'm a survivor."

"Maybe this time," Ravess suggested, "you can actually leave someone to WATCH HIM and make sure he isn't captured."

"I was just about to address that matter," Vexen grumbled.

"I will stay with him," the Huntsman said immediately.

Vexen raised a brow at the Huntsman. "If that is your wish. The rest of us will venture deeper into the city to locate the Spirit Waters. But before we depart, I would like a word with you. Outside this room. Alone."

The Huntsman nodded, following Vexen into the hallway.

In a hushed tone, Vexen hissed, "I see right through you. It is your feelings for him that keep you here and inspire you to stand guard over him."

"I do not see why that should be a problem," the Huntsman admitted.

"Trust me," Vexen told him. "Once you fall prey to love, you forget yourself. Your convictions, your purpose, your standards: all shall collapse as you prioritize the one you love above what matters most."

"Mozenrath's survival is what matters most," the Huntsman insisted.

"Today," Vexen agreed. "When he is of better health, your goals may not be so fortuitously aligned. You will have to choose between him and what should truly matter to you."

"Are you speaking from experience?" the Huntsman wondered.

"No," Vexen replied. "I have never been such a fool. I speak from a place of study and observation. My time working under Ansem the Wise revealed to me much of love and its pitfalls. Time and again, Ansem forgot himself as he sacrificed in order to protect and placate his wife, his daughter, his adoptive son, his mother, his friends. The latter was what finally did him in. Had he no attachments, he would have been a much stronger man: one we could potentially fear. As it is, even if he were still present in the realm of light, he would be too weak to be considered a threat. I would know exactly how to target him, as would many other of his enemies. And should you keep treading the path you have set out on, your enemies will know how to target you. Facilier already knows that the route to you is through Mozenrath, and that is risk enough."

"I am strong enough to withstand the consequences," the Huntsman insisted, though Vexen's words were starting to swim in the depths of his consciousness. He had gone without love for the majority of his life, and he had never suffered for it. The closest he had ever been to someone was Rose, the Huntsgirl, and she had turned on him, abusing his trust to strike him down at the moment of his victory. He had not been strong enough to withstand the consequences then.

"This is my final attempt to get through to you," Vexen said with a shake of his head. "After this, you are on your own. I can only hope you heed my warning before it is too late."

"If you do not truly care about any of us," the Huntsman posed, "then why warn me?"

"Your weakness contributes to our army's weakness," Vexen answered. "It is nothing personal."

When they returned to the room, Vexen fired a sharp glare in Ravess' direction; she returned fire, but neither used words against the other. "You know your assignments," Vexen said coldly. "All but the Huntsman, follow me."

The room slowly emptied out but for two.

The Huntsman looked upon Mozenrath, who lay fully back in the bed, his flesh looking strikingly bloodless. "Talk to me," Mozenrath commanded, in need of a diversion from his condition and the doom that clouded him.

"Name the subject," the Huntsman replied.

"What happened to you after you left me in Ba Sing Se," Mozenrath said. "Tell me everything."

The Huntsman immediately launched into the story. As he spoke of the group's encounter with Facilier, Mozenrath listened raptly. It was not a complete distraction, but it was just enough that he would not become steeped in despair.

...

Vexen took the lead of Wuya, Mim, Xayide, Ravess, Aghoul, and Ragdoll. "We are close indeed to our goal," he explained, "but several obstacles stand in our way. For one, the Spirit Waters are at the heart of the city and sure to be heavily guarded. We can choose stealth or brute force, but we must be careful that we choose the right path so as not to end up fighting half the city. Furthermore, once the Spirit Waters are in our possession, we will still need to figure out how to apply them. Fortunately, I – "

"Figure out how to apply them?" Ravess repeated. "You mean all this time, we've been going after something that we don't even know how to USE?"

"I thought it would be as simple as making him drink the stuff!" Mim barked.

"I am afraid not," Vexen informed the group. "That would in fact be an absolute waste of the waters' power. They must be applied to Mozenrath's body by a waterbender or a wielder of water magic. As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, as I wield power over ice, I am classifiable as such. I have never attempted water healing before, but it cannot possibly so difficult that I cannot accomplish it."

"And we're betting everything on you being able to do something you've never tried before in your life," Wuya snorted.

"Unless any of you have any power resembling water healing," Vexen retorted. "Which, given your ties to the Darkness, I highly doubt you are able to do."

"You are tied to the Darkness as well," Xayide reminded.

As Vexen turned to give her a rebuttal, his shoulder collided with one of the people walking in the opposite direction. Momentarily distracted, Vexen turned to the offender to tell him off. "Watch where you're walking!" he scolded.

His eyes locked with the person he'd bumped. Both froze, recognition washing over them. Then, face betraying how flabbergasted he was, the stranger – though he wasn't a stranger to Vexen – said "Uh-oh."

"YOU!" Vexen growled.

The young man turned and ran, giving a yelp.

"AFTER HIM!" Vexen commanded, pointing decisively.

"And why should we be?" Mim asked defiantly.

"Because he is a spy from Xehanort!" Vexen insisted, already jogging after the young man, who was ever gaining in speed. "If he reports to his master, all is lost!"

The young man turned a corner, hoping to lose Vexen by complicating his course. And not a moment too soon; one of Ravess' explosive arrows impacted where he'd turned as soon as he departed the spot. "Whoa!" he squeaked as he kept on running.

Wuya dropped from above, blocking his path. He tried to dodge around her left, then right; she moved to mirror him both times, stopping him from running further. She then spun, planting a kick into his chest. He went reeling back, tripping over Ragdoll's outstretched leg and falling hard on his back. Thick ropes wrapped around him, courtesy of Xayide; he struggled in vain.

Wuya, Ragdoll, Xayide, Ravess, Aghoul, Mim, and Vexen crowded together over the young man, looking him over. He was dressed in the thick blue clothing of the Water Tribe, though his light skin tone and dirty blond hair suggested his lineage came from elsewhere. Said hair was cut into a mullet that framed his youthful face, giving him a very casual air.

"What are you doing here?" Vexen growled as he looked down at the now panicking man.

"I'm just trying to get by, okay?" the man said in a quivering voice. "You don't need to tell the big guy I was here! He doesn't want me anyway! He sent me out to die, remember? …Okay, you wouldn't remember. You were already dead. But seriously, I'm no good to him! So just…back off, okay?"

"This is an old friend of yours?" Wuya asked dryly.

"A co-worker at best," Vexen answered. "Barely a colleague. Definitely not a friend."

"You never had any friends anyway," the young man insulted.

"I never needed friends," Vexen insisted.

"Yeah, well, even if you wanted friends, no one would be friends with you," the young man continued.

"You say this as if it will even slightly wound me," Vexen sniffed.

"Does this one have a name?" Ragdoll asked.

"We called him 'Demyx,'" Vexen answered. "We worked side-by-side under Xemnas in Organization XIII."

"Heyyyy, I'm not a nobody anymore!" the one known as Demyx protested. "I have an actual name now! And it's – "

Vexen pressed a foot on Demyx's throat, silencing him. "You will answer my question," he insisted. "What are you doing here?"

Demyx responded with a series of choking noises.

"I don't think he can answer you with your foot on his neck," Wuya observed.

"That doesn't matter!" Mim argued. "Listening to him choke is hilarious!"

"You should strangle him," Aghoul suggested.

Vexen instead moved his foot to Demyx's chest. "Speak," he commanded.

"I told you!" Demyx yelped. "I'm just trying to get by! After I came back, I knew I never wanted anything to do with Xemnas or any of his 'Norts again, so I found somewhere I could blend in! Nobody bothers me here! They haven't even caught me stealing ONCE yet!"

"So you're a thief," Ragdoll noticed.

"Yeah, and a good one," Demyx bragged. "When I needed the Olympus Stone to keep my powers in the Underworld, I swiped it right out from under the gods' noses! And I got it off that mountain without anyone noticing!"

"You're lying," Aghoul accused. "No one could steal something from Mount Olympus without being subjected to at least two causes of painful death."

"Well, I did it," Demyx insisted.

"He was quite adept at stealth," Vexen admitted. "On the days he actually chose to fill out reports for reconnaissance, he was able to provide a wealth of information the rest of us could not access without betraying our position. The problem came down to his lack of will to fill out reports…or even set out to assigned reconnaissance missions in the first place."

"I didn't wanna die!" Demyx insisted. "You kept sending me on dangerous missions! Is that so wrong?"  
"YOU ONCE REFUSED TO ENTER THE HUNDRED ACRE WOOD," Vexen reminded him.

"There were bees," Demyx said plainly. "Lots of bees. Like, sixty thousand bees."

"Wuya," Vexen commanded, "corroborate his story. Is he or is he not here on business from Xehanort?"

Wuya knelt down to place a hand on Demyx's forehead.

"Heyyyyy!" Demyx whined. "Hands off the merchandise!"

"He's telling the truth," Wuya informed the group. "He's an independent operator, and the most complex scheme in his head is pickpocketing somebody to pay for his lunch."

"So…wait," Demyx said, baffled. "YOU'RE not here from Xemnas?"

"Of course not!" Vexen snapped.

"We're here from something so much worse," Aghoul cackled.

Demyx swallowed hard. "You guys are…gonna let me go, right? Whatever you want, I'm no good for you!"

"He has a point," Vexen sighed. "He's utterly useless."

"Well, except for the part where he can steal anything without being noticed," Ragdoll pointed out. "We do need someone who can do exactly that."

"If only he possessed the water magic we needed as well," Xayide added.

"As a matter of fact…" Vexen looked down to Demyx with a grin.

"WHAT?" Demyx screeched. "What do you need ME for? You have an ice guy!"

"We require someone adept at water healing," Vexen told him.

"I've never done water healing before in my life!" Demyx attempted.

"Lies," Vexen sniffed. "I personally watched you use that sort of magic to cover paper cuts and mild scrapes that did not require water healing. But then again, you always were weak to pain."

"All right," Demyx huffed, ready to call the WHAM ARMY's bluff. "What'll you do to me if I refuse to work for you?"

"All sorts of fun things," Mim informed him. "We can make you regret ever being born."

"Between Mimsie's and my imaginations, we should be able to get hours of entertainment out of you," Aghoul added.

"Oh boy," Demyx whimpered.

"That would hardly be a productive use of our time," Xayide said calmly. "Why not instead extend a hand of friendship? We have thieves aplenty that he can play well with."

"You threaten me with torture," Demyx reiterated, "and now you wanna be FRIENDS? You're crazy!"

"Hear our offer," Xayide continued. "We come from an organization dedicated to conquest and chaos. All of us within the WHAM ARMY are kin. Our leader is dying, and we require someone who can bring him back to health with the Spirit Waters. Should you do this, we can offer you a place among our ranks. You can reap a share of our rewards."

"What are you doing?" Vexen groaned. "He isn't worth this!"

Wuya held up a hand. "Hear her out."

"What kind of rewards are we talkin'?" Demyx asked.

"Riches," Xayide told him. "Eventually, a throne."

"Mmmm…tempting," Demyx admitted, "but I'm done with all that stuff. I look out for number one now."

"That brings us to the less savory part of our deal," Xayide told him. "As you know, there are those among our number who have every intention of tormenting you until death. Should we decide not to go that route, we now know where you are and that you do not wish to be found."

"I'll just run away again," Demyx argued. "You'll never find me."

Xayide waved a hand; a small purse came loose from Demyx's pocket and flew to her hand.

"Give that back!" Demyx commanded.

"Now we have something of yours," Xayide told him. "You are familiar with locator spells? We can find you no matter where you go."

"Carrot and a stick, huh?" Demyx sighed. "All right. Fine. I really don't have any choice in this."

"Do us this favor," Xayide told him, "and all ill will shall be erased."

"I still have to join up with you, though, don't I?"

"The WHAM ARMY offers greater freedom than your Organization XIII ever did," Xayide told him. "We work toward a common goal, yes, but we are open to making stops to achieve the goals of those within our ranks. Whatever you want, you may chase, and with support. In return, your skills as a thief and a healer shall be valued."

"This is a mistake," Vexen sighed.

"If he joins us," Mim said, "it'll be that much easier to torture him."

"And he does seem such a promising victim," Aghoul added. "They're so much more fun when they panic."

"Can you keep me as far away from those two as possible?" Demyx asked.

"That I cannot promise," Xayide told him. "They are founding members. They go where they please and speak to whom they please."

"I could see the benefit to having someone like him around," Wuya added.

"I say we let him in," Ravess grunted.

"Are you only agreeing to this in order to be contrary to me?" Vexen asked Ravess.

"Is that not what you have been doing to me?" Ravess retorted.

"I must admit you interest me," Ragdoll told Demyx. "I am a master thief myself. Perhaps we could accomplish great things together."

"All right," Demyx relented, "I'm in. I'll join your…what did you call it?"

"The WHAM ARMY!" Mim answered.

"What kind of a name is WHAM ARMY?" Demyx asked.

"A name you will learn to respect," Vexen insisted, finally removing his foot from atop Demyx.

Xayide dismissed the ropes that bound Demyx down. Demyx stood gingerly, wondering if he should try and make a break for it. He knew, however, that present company was too smart for that. Xayide still had his purse, and could track him down easily.

"All we need you to do is steal a healthy amount of the Spirit Waters," Vexen briefed, "then meet us at an inn to perform the healing."

"Spirit Waters?" Demyx reiterated. "No problem! Getting in and out of there is gonna be a piece of cake. I would have done it before now if I actually knew what to use the waters for."

"We will know if you bring back a fake," Vexen warned. "And your fate in that case will not be pleasant."

Demyx had to admit he had been thinking about doing exactly that. It was hardly a matter. He hadn't been lying about the Spirit Waters being easy for him to steal. "I won't cheat you," he stated. "Promise."

Vexen told him the location of the inn he was to return to, and with that, Demyx set off.

"This had better be worth it," Vexen grumbled. "I was in no hurry to ever see him again."

"I rather like him," Ragdoll admitted. "Similar interests…but incredibly fun to scare."

"Ghoulie and I will keep him on his toes!" Mim promised.

"Somehow, that is not a relief," Vexen said sarcastically.

...

It had been a while since Demyx had required stealth for any task bigger than liberating a shop of its wares without paying. Now that he had a heart within his chest, one that belonged to him alone, he could feel it beating hard as he slunk toward the small wooden door that housed the most spiritual place in the North Pole. He slipped through that door without a sound, arriving in a current of warm air.

In the midst of the cavern, amid a lake of water, an island topped with grass and trees flourished. The heart of this island was host to a pool that nearly formed a circular shape but for one dent. A pair of koi swirled around each other in this pool: one white with a black spot and the other black with a white spot. Apparently, Demyx had heard, these were the spirits of moon and tide, though one of them, and Demyx was fuzzy on this detail, was apparently the soul of a lost princess.

Demyx had no intention of disturbing the koi beyond robbing them of a little bit of their home. He had made one stop along the way to this heist: to retrieve a large flask that was bound at his hip, sized to hold enough water for at least two shots at the healing. He hoped, anyway. He hadn't been told exactly how dire his patient's situation was. Or, he realized, his patient's name.

"Way to kick off a kinship," he muttered. "You'd think they'd have a little more faith in the guy who's here to save their boss's life."

He wanted to know ever so much more about this entire situation. What was Vexen doing with this crowd? Why wasn't he with Xemnas? Where did the WHAM ARMY come from? Who were the rest of them? As badly as he wanted to know the answers, he figured the only person who understood his background enough to give him the right context was Vexen, and he wasn't about to go grilling Vexen for answers.

Demyx uncorked the flask, waving at the nearly-circular pool. Water trickled up out of it in a line, feeding directly into the flask. The koi circled each other a little more rapidly, but made no other motion.

When the flask was at last full and the pool's surface line a little lower, Demyx capped the container. "What did I get myself into this time?" he moaned before turning back to set out for the inn.

...

The Huntsman had finished telling Mozenrath his tale of capture by Facilier, and Mozenrath responded in kind by telling the Huntsman as much as he could remember of his capture by and rescue from the Dai Li.

"Aghoul tried to make conversation by asking me about my preferred method of death," Mozenrath sighed.

"A most inappropriate subject," the Huntsman commented.

"It was topical at the very least," Mozenrath admitted. "It's not like that isn't the subject that's been on my mind ever since we arrived on this world. Might as well make me dredge it up and talk about it."

"I disagree," the Huntsman said.

But what if I want to talk about it? Mozenrath thought. Once again, he felt himself on the verge of an outpouring. He wanted to tell the Huntsman how this differed from his ideal death and just how much he feared it. He wanted to admit he was afraid. But he couldn't. It was practically a principle. No matter how much he felt he could confide in the Huntsman, no matter how comforted he felt in the Huntsman's presence, he refused to show signs of being any weaker than he already was. Already, he was losing color, his breathing getting ragged in between his words.

The others entered the room then, bringing the news of Demyx. Mozenrath expressed reluctance to letting the young thief into the fold, but when he was reminded that his life depended on it, he sighed, "Well, I guess we already have Ragdoll. He can't be much worse than that."

"He is," Vexen snorted.

"But Ghoulie and I have him covered," Mim insisted.

"How so?" Mozenrath asked.

By the time Demyx got back, it was in time to hear Wuya suggesting, "What about dehydration? His power is over water, so finding a way to dehydrate him must be absolute torture."

"Depending on how much control he has over water, he might just be able to re-hydrate himself," Mozenrath brought up. "Drowning him would be a much more fun irony."

"Are you all talking about ways to kill me if I screw up?" Demyx asked accusatorily.

"So this is the recruit," Mozenrath remarked, sizing Demyx up. "He doesn't look impressive, but then again, I'm not sure where my expectations should have been on that front."

"I don't look impressive?" Demyx rebutted. "Somehow I thought you'd be…older. You're practically a kid."

"I'm…at least twenty," Mozenrath argued. "I'm probably older than you, so you're going to show me the respect I deserve."

"Probably?" Demyx repeated. "What, you don't know?"

"I had a bad run-in with some Lethe water," Mozenrath sighed. "As one does."

"That'd do it," Demyx said with a nod. "But seriously, you're the guy in charge?" Maybe he had less to worry about than he thought. He pictured Mozenrath standing side-by-side with Xemnas. Based on looks alone, he knew which one he would rather call "boss."

"Are you here to heal me," Mozenrath asked, "or are you here to insult me? I'd think carefully before I answered. Your life might depend on picking the right one."

"I'm here to heal you!" Demyx said hastily. He held up the flask; "Look! I got the stuff! And boy, do you look like you need it. What happened to you?"

"Power has a price," Mozenrath told him, "and I paid it."

"See, this is why I tend NOT to go for power," Demyx groaned. "But maybe with you guys, it'll be worth it."

"Save your words," the Huntsman demanded. "Your magic must do the talking now."

"Mozenrath," Vexen ordered, "turn down that blanket and remove every article of clothing above your waist. Demyx will need contact with your body in order to complete the process."

"I tried to tell you," Demyx sighed, "my name is – "

"No one cares," Ravess and Wuya said at the same time.

Mozenrath set about stripping. Turning down the blanket was easy. Removing his shirt required him to utilize motor skills that were already draining. And once he had done so, he was hardly prepared for the reaction of his cohorts. Ravess, Ragdoll, the Huntsman, and Wuya flinched. Demyx let out an audible "Eeeewwww!". Aghoul and Mim leaned in for a closer look. Vexen was the only one whose stance and expression did not change.

Flesh still covered his neck and face, but otherwise, Mozenrath was a clean skeleton surrounding vital organs that faintly pulsed. He glanced down to see his own stomach lay bare beneath the points of his ribs. "Well, that's appetizing," he remarked.

"Do I have to?" Demyx groaned.

"Either you and I both live," Mozenrath threatened, "or neither of us does."

Demyx removed the cap from the flask. Calling a blob of water to surround each hand, he winced as he lowered his open palms over Mozenrath's rib cage. He hadn't expected the job to be this hefty. There was a good chance he wouldn't be able to complete it, he feared, and then his life would come to a swift end.

He put all of his concentration into the water at his fingertips, letting it glow with energy. His eyelids shut as he funneled his thoughts toward his magic. As it was, he didn't see the effect he was having at first.

Where there once had been exposed bone, flesh blossomed, skin on top and musculature reaching deep beneath it. For a moment, one could see Mozenrath's heartbeat quicken as he realized what was happening to him. Then the heart was covered, caged again by the proper anatomy. His chest filled out, then his arms, and presumably everything below the waist. As his newly regrown skin rejoined that which had already remained at his neck, the last of the water dried off Demyx's fingers.

Realizing he'd run out of water, Demyx opened his eyes to see how far he'd gotten. Once he realized he'd completely healed Mozenrath, he cried, "Hey! I DID IT!" After a pause: "…I mean, I knew I could."

The rest of the room let out a sigh of relief. "Looks like you're going to live to see another day!" Aghoul remarked.

Mozenrath held up both of his hands before his eyes. It had been a while since he had skin covering both. His right hand even had fingernails, which seemed so alien to him. "Well, I'm glad that's over with," he said dismissively, as though he hadn't spent so long on the brink of despair. "Now, I believe one of you has something of mine."

Aghoul produced the gauntlet, but Wuya held Aghoul's wrist down. "That thing is what got you in this mess in the first place," she reminded Mozenrath. "Are you really going to start playing with it again?"

"I think you know the answer to that," Mozenrath growled. "I want it. Now."

Wuya let go of Aghoul, knowing there was no stopping Mozenrath's desire to pay for power. Aghoul flipped the gauntlet toward Mozenrath, who caught it deftly before slipping it onto his right hand, where for once, it fit snugly.

"We are glad to have you back," the Huntsman stated, matter-of-fact.

Equally matter-of-fact, Mozenrath replied, "Well, George, it's good to be back." He slid out of the bed and began pulling on his clothing.

The Huntsman was struck with surprise. "You…just called me…"

As Mozenrath straightened out his shirt, he said almost apologetically, "I…suppose you wanted that to be a secret."

"Your name is GEORGE?" Wuya, Aghoul, and Mim all said in awe.

"That hardly matters," the Huntsman said, blown away. "I hadn't told Mozenrath my true name ever since…"

The implications finally impacted Mozenrath. His heart nearly stopped. "I remember," he realized. "I remember EVERYTHING."

"Of course!" Vexen realized. "The Spirit Waters have regenerative powers toward the mind as well! They would have been the perfect counteraction toward the Lethe Water!"

"I remember how we met," Mozenrath continued. "I remember necromancy! I also remember that I'm twenty-five." This was said with a pointed look toward Demyx.

"Okay, so you have a few years on me," Demyx sighed.

"This went better than expected," Wuya said with a smile.

"We're glad you're back to your old self!" Aghoul added.

"I also remember…one more thing." Mozenrath turned to the Huntsman. "This whole time, and you never told me we were an item."

"As of your memory erasure, we no longer were," the Huntsman informed Mozenrath. "It was as though we had only just met."

"Well, consider us back to business," Mozenrath told him. He knew he should punctuate this with some sort of physical gesture, and raised his now gauntleted right hand, only to be unsure of where to place it. Gingerly, he rested his palm upon the Huntsman's shoulder, hoping that was the appropriate spot.

The Huntsman mirrored the gesture, cupping Mozenrath's shoulder in his own hand.

"So THAT'S why you know his real name!" Mim cried.

"This is an interesting development," Wuya remarked. "I can't say it's an unpredictable one, but it's interesting."

"Love is in the air," Ragdoll remarked.

"It's not love," Mozenrath and the Huntsman said sternly as one.

"Well, it looks like you're in charge again," Aghoul told Mozenrath. "Where to next?"

"It would be a shame to leave this world so soon," Mozenrath sighed. "We haven't even tapped into its full potential. For all we know, one of the elements we need could be here. We are in a city full of people with water magic."

"Not magic," Vexen reminded him. "Bending. The two have a multitude of similarities, including the art of healing, but are not the same."

"What about the Spirit Waters?" Ravess realized. "Wouldn't those count as a pure form of the water element? We could send our new recruit back to get more."

"You don't need to." Demyx held up the flask, which he shook; a sloshing sound emitted from inside. "I didn't even use it all."

"Two birds," Mozenrath remarked, "one stone. You might be useful to us after all, Demyx."

"Okay," Demyx groaned, pointing to the Huntsman, "he gets HIS real name blabbed when he didn't want to and everyone's cool with this, but nobody even wants to HEAR mine?"

"No," Ragdoll confirmed with a wide grin.

"Well, we should at least do something celebratory here," Mozenrath mused. Looking to the Huntsman, he commented, "It's too bad I haven't heard anything about dragons on this world. Slaying one together would be the perfect way to spend some quality time."

"I can't believe I'm fueling this fire," Vexen sighed, "but just because you haven't heard of them doesn't mean they aren't present. We should discuss this on the move."

Everyone slowly filed out of the inn's room.

"Do you think this means Mozenrath is also cured of his hypnotism?" Ragdoll wondered out loud as they departed.

"I was curious as to the details of that," the Huntsman brought up, walking in step next to Mozenrath, whose hand had fallen away from him; the Huntsman had lowered his in kind. "It was the one thing Mozenrath could not recall when telling his story to me."

"His trigger words were 'The Earth King has invited you to Lake Laogai,'" Aghoul recalled.

Mozenrath froze in place, stiffening. His pupils widened, and a tranquil look washed over his face.

"I suppose this means he's not cured," Aghoul groaned.

"Cluck like a chicken!" Demyx commanded.

Aghoul smacked Demyx on the back of the head. "You can't command him! I'm the one who gave him the trigger words!"

"Attempting to humiliate your superior is not a good way to make an impression," the Huntsman growled.

Demyx backed up a few paces, intimidated by the Huntsman's tone. "Okay, okay! It was a joke!"

Aghoul sparked magic in his fingers as he snapped them in front of Mozenrath, who blinked rapidly to dispel the mild brainwashing he'd just undergone. "Don't tell me," Mozenrath sighed.

"It's no big deal," Wuya said. "We'll just have to make sure no one says the words 'The Earth King has invited you to – '"

Aghoul and Mim slapped their hands over her mouth.

As they spilled out into the street, Mozenrath commanded Vexen, "Tell us more about these dragons." He once again felt a desire to be closer to the Huntsman, but again was not entirely sure how to go about it. Feigning confidence, he lightly slid an arm around the Huntsman's back, not putting too much pressure in case he had made the incorrect move.

The Huntsman, surprised at the gesture, saw it as his cue to gently envelop Mozenrath's slender waist with his own arm. Twin shivers struck them both.

"Long ago, this world was heavily populated with dragons," Vexen explained. "They taught the firebenders of this world how to control their art. However, a trend of dragon hunters with much the same mentality as our very own…GEORGE…nearly wiped them all out. All but, according to rumors, a few. There is talk that at least one dragon, perhaps more, lives in the civilization of the Sun Warriors."

"He might say I was the recon guy," Demyx groaned, "but Vex was always willing to show me up."

"When I research a world," Vexen told him, "I am thorough and leave no stone unturned. Being able to turn in a more detailed report than you was only a matter of course. The knowledge of my superiority to you in that regard was a bonus. I had many chances to vet this world for important information. I do believe, should we follow the Sun Warrior lead, we may come across the dragons you seek."

"That's the real reason you're leading us to the dragons, isn't it?" Ravess huffed. "To prove that you were right about their location."

"Welcome to life with Vexen," Demyx groaned.

"Then let's go," Mozenrath resolved.

The entire group was halted by a cry of "THERE you are! You ain't gettin' away from us so easy!"

Facilier pointed to his quarry, Zhao flanking him.

"Well, well!" Mim turned to the pair, cracking her knuckles. "I've been waiting for THIS moment ever since we split up!"

Facilier snapped his fingers, and fifty Neo-Shadows sprang up from the ground.

"He has us outnumbered," Vexen observed. "We must flee!"

"Not before I kill him!" Mim argued.

The Neo-Shadows were already nearly upon the WHAM ARMY, claws stretching out to tear into flesh. Nearby civilians screamed and fled.

"No time to retreat!" Mozenrath left the Huntsman's side and charged up his gauntlet with blue energy.

"No." Demyx put a hand on Mozenrath's chest, pushing him back. Before Mozenrath could complain, Demyx simply said, "I got this."

Demyx reached one hand high into the air. In a shimmer, a distinctive object appeared in it: a stringed instrument, soft blue in color, as tall as Demyx himself. He clutched it by the shaft, spinning it once before planting its base on the ground and positioning his hands over the strings. As he cried, "DANCE, WATER, DANCE!", he struck a single chord.

A hundred forms made out of water, each shaped like Demyx himself, materialized into being, double-teaming each Neo-Shadow.

"That's…impressive," Mozenrath admitted.

"Now GO!" Demyx screamed. "GO, GO, GO!"

Vexen conjured a Corridor, bolting through it. Mozenrath, the Huntsman, Ragdoll, Aghoul, Wuya, Xayide, and Demyx followed at top speed. Ravess took two steps toward the Corridor before doubling back to grab Mim by the back of the collar and drag her into the portal.

As the portal closed, Facilier watched his Heartless do battle with the water clones. One by one, they were becoming eliminated.

"Shall we take the North Pole?" Zhao asked, ignoring the advance of Demyx's creations.

"We ain't got the solstice on our side anymore!" Facilier reminded him. "In broad daylight, we can't do what we did in the Capital! We coulda brought our targets down, but not the whole city!"

Zhao's hands flared as he finally took notice of Demyx's creations, which had eliminated the last of Facilier's minions. "I refuse to retreat," he growled.

"Then go ahead and die," Facilier told him, conjuring a Corridor of his own and striding through. He left it open a moment, waiting for Zhao to change his mind.

Zhao grit his teeth before realizing it was in his best interest to follow. Angrily throwing his flames to the ground, he barged into the Corridor after Facilier.

With no one left to fight, the water forms slopped into shapelessness, flowing into the canal and becoming one with the frigid water.


	52. Chapter 52

52\. Fire-Forged

A/N: This chapter contains a plot development from the most recent season of RWBY released. Before reading, make sure you're caught up or you don't care about spoilers. Also, a bit more gore in this chapter than usual, so be on guard for that.

...

Yzma and Zevon walked into the lobby of the spa feeling completely rejuvenated. "I would say this day went resplendidly," Zevon said in a tranquil tone.

"You have very fine taste," Yzma complimented. "If there was any doubt left that you were my son, it is gone."

"Even if you weren't my mother," Zevon replied, "I would adopterate you into being her anyway."

The two deliverymen shuffled into the lobby, placing the mirror down in the center of the room and effectively bisecting it. "They didn't want it in the massage parlor," one groaned. "They didn't want it in the salon. Who ordered this mirror?"

"Now," Zevon muttered, "if only that guy I met were worth pursuiting."

"Guy you met?" Yzma repeated. "What guy you met?"

"An attractionive young man who also has very fine taste," Zevon explained. "Unfortunatively, when we really got into conversationals, he admitted that the biggest reason he would want an empire is to…HELP PEOPLE."

"Disgusting," Yzma hissed. "I wouldn't worry. You'll find the right man someday. One who doesn't care about the peasantry."

"He's probably long gone by now," Zevon said. "Not worth worrying about and definitely not worth building a shrine to."

"…Shrine?"

"Don't worry about it."

On the other side of the mirror, Cadance, Ren, and Xander exited the spa, sighing in delight. "I'll admit it," Ren said, "we really needed this."

"Doesn't that just feel so much better?" Cadance asked.

"Yeah," Xander replied. "Though I can't help but wonder about that guy from the sauna. You think he's still around?"

"It's not likely," Ren told Xander. "If you tried to find him, you'd probably just be wasting your time."

"You're right," Xander admitted.

From only a few feet away, Yzma and Zevon turned to see the mirror blocking their view of the three heroes. "Is it my imagination," Zevon asked, "or are we glowing?"

"We're definitely glowing," Yzma confirmed. "No imagination about it."

"So what shall we do with the rest of our day?" Zevon asked.

"Want to go back to base and use our potions to turn Snipe into silly animals?" Yzma suggested.

"That's a capitalized idea!" Zevon agreed, and mother and son skipped out of the spa in synchrony.

The deliverymen decided to give up on finding who had ordered the mirror, hustling it out the front door. Cadance, Xander, and Ren followed. "I wonder how everyone else is doing," Xander mused. "They're probably having all kinds of fun without us."

...

Riku, Kairi, and Luna sat on the ground outside the Terra Atmosian tower, racking their brains for how to solve their current situation.

"With the Aurora Stone in place, we've done a lot of good here," Riku pointed out. "Soon, we'll have done all we can, and everyone will want to go separate ways."

"It almost makes me wish we'd taken longer to find the stone," Kairi sighed. "But I know better than that."

"We must have faith," Luna reminded them. "You of all people know that friends will always find a way back to each other."

"We still can't just rely on fate to fix everything for us," Riku insisted. "We have to figure it out for ourselves."

Approaching footsteps alerted the trio to a newcomer. They looked to see Jaune walking tentatively toward them.

"Uh…hey," he greeted.

"Hi, Jaune," Riku replied.

"So, uh…" Jaune scratched the back of his head nervously. "After the big argument, when everyone was yelling at each other and we all went our separate ways, I thought I heard another voice. It said I was a coward who couldn't control my own fear." He looked Kairi directly in the eye. "And it sounded like you."

"Jaune," Kairi said desperately, "I would never, EVER – "

"I know," Jaune told her. "That's why I'm here. It got me thinking that maybe there is something to this whole idea that we're being sabotaged. Because I just…can't believe you saying things like that about me. So I'm here to help figure out what's going on."

"Someone or something knows we're more powerful together and less powerful divided," Riku said decisively. "That's why they're doing this."

"It just helps to know that the four of us, at least, don't buy it," Kairi added.

"Riku!" Sadira's voice echoed across the distance of the Terra. "Kairi! Luna! RIKU! KAIRI! LUNA!"

"Again?" Jaune sighed.

But this voice was accompanied by the real Sadira, barreling toward the quartet at top speed, a book clutched in hand. "You HAVE to see this!" she insisted, skidding to a halt before the group. She looked confusedly at Jaune; "Hey, are you on their side now, too?"

"Yeah," Jaune told her.

"Good," Sadira said, "because it's the right side." She cracked open the book to a spot she'd marked with a finger. "I think I figured out what's messing us up."

Riku, Kairi, and Luna immediately stood. They and Jaune crowded around Sadira to look over her shoulders at the book.

"This is the book of elemental magic Dilan was reading," Sadira explained. "This page is all about wind spells. And THIS spell lets you put words in the wind to make it sound like someone else said them, so long as it's a voice from your memory. The wind carries the words around for a while, then brings them back to the person you intended for them to hear it. I think it's supposed to be used for tricking enemies and sending long-distance messages, but it's being used against US to make it sound like we're all insulting each other in our own voices."

"That's exactly it!" Kairi realized.

"Now we just have to figure out who's casting this spell," Riku stated.

"Uh…isn't it obvious?" Sadira turned around to face the others. "Listen, I know right now, everyone's accusing everyone else of everything bad, and that's what's messing us up. But you can take this one from my mouth directly: I'm pretty sure it's Dilan who's casting this spell."

"No!" Kairi argued. "He wouldn't! He left all that behind him!"

"I found it in his book," Sadira said, "which he didn't want me to read. And he's a master of air magic. I don't know that anyone else here is even at the level where they could cast this spell."

"Dilan got insulted by the wind too," Jaune pointed out.

"To throw everybody off!" Sadira insisted. "Of COURSE it would look weird if there was ONE person who wasn't getting insulted! He set up the words to come back to him later! He just would have needed some time alone, and nobody's been able to watch him the whole time!"

"I hate to say it," Riku sighed, "but it sounds like Sadira's right. The evidence stacks up."

"But…he isn't like that anymore," Kairi said weakly. "He cares about us now."

"We haven't known him that long since he came back as Dilan," Riku reminded her. "I know you want to trust him, but he hasn't even had all that much time to prove he's worthy of our trust."

"We should let everyone else know," Jaune suggested.

"I agree," Luna said. "If we confront him together, he will be forced to admit what he has done."

"But what if he didn't do it?" Kairi asked softly.

"I hope he didn't," Jaune said. "For your sake. But I really think he did."

...

Dilan stood at the edge of the Terra, looking out over the wasteland, taking in every ridge of rock, every pool of magma that burned and steamed in the distance. His quiet reverie was broken by a host of footsteps. He did not turn around until they stopped; he knew, as he looked, what he would see. Riku, Kairi, Jaune, Luna, Aladdin, Sadira, Nick, Chip, Vida, Madison, Genie, Moana, and even Carpet had thronged together, giving him an accusatory stare.

"I noticed," he informed the group, "that my book was missing."

"You've been the one behind the insults, haven't you?" Riku snapped. "You're the one trying to tear us apart!"

"Dilan, please," Kairi said desperately. "Tell us we're wrong."

"No!" Riku said sharply. "Tell us why! Why you did it!"

For a moment, Dilan considered lying. But if he did so, suspicion would always cloud around him as the others tried to figure out what had come between them on the whispering winds. He would never be free of scrutiny. But even more than that, he wanted his audience to know the name of the one responsible.

"Riku," he addressed, giving the silver-haired boy a direct look. "Do you not miss it?"

"Miss what?" Riku asked, genuinely perplexed.

"The thrill," Dilan told him. "Manipulation. The ability to tear apart bonds, taken into your own hands. Sowing discord. I had thought that once I regained a heart, I would have no need for such pastimes anymore. But I was wrong. Once I gained the ability to feel, I realized I craved it all the more. I wanted to manipulate as I had done in the past, but this time, I wanted to feel what it was like." His lips curled into a smile. "It feels every bit as satisfying as I had ever hoped."

Kairi gasped, feeling as though she had just been shot in the heart.

"No!" Riku barked. "I don't miss hurting people! I regret it every day! I'm still trying to make up for what I did when I gave myself over to the Darkness because I care about my friends! And I care about the people I can help! How can you look at those same people and think that you want to hurt them instead?"

"It seems we are at an impasse," Dilan told Riku. "And here I thought you would be the one to understand me. After all you did to the girl beside you, just to strike at the heart of Sora."

"I'll never hurt her again," Riku growled. "I made mistakes." Then he shook his head. "No. Not mistakes. They weren't accidents. I did terrible things. Things I'm never going to do again! I understand why I did them. And I thought I understood why you did what you did as Xaldin. As part of Organization XIII. But your heart is free from Xehanort now! You had a second chance! What you're doing now is something I can't understand!"

"I can't believe you!" Aladdin spat. "You went to all this trouble to make us hate each other?"

"And it almost worked!" Vida added. "You almost split us up forever!"

"You made some of us listen to the things we're afraid of most about ourselves!" Moana added. "How COULD you?"

"I can't believe we all fell for it!" Nora chimed in. "You're just a big jerk!"

"We're never going to fall for it again!" Chip insisted. "Now we know exactly what to look out for! Well, listen for. You know what I mean!"

"Is that so?" Dilan raised a brow. "That is unfortunate. If I can no longer manipulate you…I must find other ways to relive the thrill."

The only warning anyone had was when his lance shimmered into his hand. He rushed the group, striking; Kairi and Riku crossed their blades in the air, intercepting the fall of the lance. Sparks flew as metal clashed against metal. "You're outnumbered!" Riku grunted. "You can't fight all of us!"

Nora decided she had had truly enough of Dilan. Watching him physically attack Riku and Kairi was the last straw. She slipped through the crowd, hefting up Magnhild. Hardly making a sound, she approached Dilan from the side, breaking into a run as she swung the hammer back to knock him away from his targets.

She registered in Dilan's peripheral vision. He leapt back, the lance floating on the wind. A rough current of air blew it, spinning it in midair and jamming it directly toward Nora.

Nora let out a gasp as the lance's blade found its mark.

"NO!" Jaune screamed. "NORAAAAAAAAA!"

Nora was halted, the lance having pierced directly through her, its blade staking into the ground behind her as its shaft protruded from her front side. She made strained, choking noises, unable to form words.

With a flick of the wrist, Dilan called a current that withdrew the lance, letting Nora fall to the ground in a small pool of red blood.

Immediately, a cage of heavy iron bars and a thick roof slammed into place around Dilan. Genie floated in front of the cage, arms folded. Though he barely had it in him to make a joke after the events that had just transpired, he had just enough sass in him to crack one "Don't do the crime if you can't do the time," though it came out stony-cold.

Dilan merely smiled at him. Genie hadn't bothered to create a floor for his cage. Dilan formed a Corridor beneath his feet, sinking down into the Darkness on the ground.

"NO!" Aladdin yelled. "HE'S GETTING AWAY!"

Riku ran toward the cage; by the time he reached it, Dilan was gone. Riku rattled the empty bars and gave a wordless yell.

Jaune and Kairi rushed to Nora, kneeling by her side. Jaune pulled Nora's head and shoulders up onto his thighs, frantically brushing the hair from her face. "No," he muttered. "No, no, no…we couldn't lose anyone else, damn it! WE COULDN'T LOSE ANYONE ELSE!"

Kairi stretched a hand out over Nora, casting a bright green Curaga. She knew even then, as the spell washed over Nora, that it wasn't going to be enough. "Is…she…"

"She's still breathing, right?" Chip panicked as he stood over the scene. "SHE'S STILL BREATHING, RIGHT?"

Sadira and Moana gasped, holding their own breath in.

"Yes," Jaune said shakily. "She's…breathing." For she was, but it was a labored breath, and though her eyes were wide, she didn't seem to be aware of her surroundings at all. "Nora…please…you have to be okay…you have to…"

The others abandoned the prospect of chasing Dilan and surrounded Nora in concern.

"Genie?" Sadira asked. "Can you…?"

"Not for a wound that bad," Genie responded. "That's too close to…well…rule number two."

"NO!" Sadira shrieked. "SHE'S NOT GOING TO DIE!"

"J…" Nora stammered. "Jaune…"

"Hold on, Nora." Jaune swept her hand up into his. "You're going to be okay. You HAVE to be okay."

"Jaune…I'm…"

Kairi took Nora's free hand in between her own, tears beginning to flow freely from her eyes. Blood was soaking Jaune's pants completely through.

Silence washed over the group as they faced the horrible prospect that they were about to lose one of their own.

A soft pink glow washed over Nora. It started out faded, then grew brighter, enveloping her completely. Nora gave a gasp, unimpeded. Her breathing began to stabilize.

"Ka…Kairi?" Jaune asked softly, his eyes traveling to the laceration where Dilan's lance had pierced through Nora. "What are you doing?"

"I'm not doing anything," Kairi said in surprise, sniffling away her sadness to be replaced by shock. "I think…you're doing it."

"Jaune?" Nora said weakly. The laceration was closing, the flesh mending itself.

"Nora," Jaune responded. "What's happening?"

"I don't know!" Nora said, flummoxed. "I was out of it, and I was pretty sure I was going to…you know…but now I feel pretty much fine! It still hurts, but I think I'm gonna be okay!" A broad smile broke out over her face. "I think you're HEALING me, Jaune!"

A collective sigh was released.

"I can't be healing you," Jaune stated.

"Sure you can!" Nora told him. "It's your Semblance!"

Jaune shook his head. "Our Aura heals us," he informed her. "I think…I'm using my Aura to amplify yours."

Nora flinched. "Aren't you afraid of running out?"

"Well," Jaune said with a grin of relief, "Pyrrha did say I had a lot of it. Just stay with me. You're gonna be fine."

"She's gonna be fine!" Chip cheered.

"YES!" Sadira and Moana yelled as one.

Genie mopped a wet-sweating brow with a large sponge he conjured from thin air, then wrung the sponge out over the ground, creating a wet patch of sweat on the dirt. "That's a relief!"

"Here." Kairi cast another Curaga over Nora. "That should help speed things up."

Riku cast one as well. "Can't be too careful."

"I can't believe you guys," Nora said with a smile. "Were you really all gonna be that depressed about me?"

"You're our friend," Aladdin told her. "You have a spark to you that we'd miss."

"You make people smile," Moana added.

"You guys!" Nora blushed. She squirmed slightly; "Jaune? I think I'm good."

Jaune and Kairi dropped Nora's hands, letting her stand. She hefted up Magnhild, collapsing it to wear at her side. "I can't believe that jerk got away," she grumbled.

"He could be anywhere," Riku realized. "On any world."

"Like we didn't have enough to worry about," Nick groaned.

"This won't be the last we see of him," Riku went on. "He'll come back for us. Now that we know what he wants…he'll want to feel what it's like to finally overcome us. He thinks it'll make him happy."

"Well, next time, I'm gonna break his face," Nora insisted, patting Magnhild at her side.

Jaune and Kairi stood. "We should finish up business here," Kairi stated.

"I agree," Luna said. "There is not much left for us to do before we can return to Radiant Garden and plan our next move."

"And this time," Vida insisted, "if we hear any voices saying mean things, we'll know not to buy it."

"Unless it's mean things about Dilan," Sadira rebutted. "In that case, it's probably actually me talking. Because I have a LOT to say about that guy."

Everyone else had to agree.

...

Inside the ice cream truck, Joker and Harley made comments on every single move made by the infiltrators of Blackmoor Manor, quite glad they had not had to run the gauntlet of puzzles themselves. Scar watched bitterly from over their shoulders, not saying a word.

Then the entire group filed into the passageway leading underground, and as Joker, Harley, and Scar waited, the silence punctuated only by the yips of the hyenas, Snatcher's company did not come back up.

"They ain't on any camera," Harley observed.

"They've found something," Joker snarled. Then, in a much more singsong tone: "I do believe opportunity has just knocked!"

Scar fitted a set of metal claws over his knuckle. "Let us all hope your strategy has paid off."

They donned a triad of head lamps and made way.

...

"Okay," Roman sighed as Snatcher and Scarlet guided him, Neo, Rémington, Grany, and Herb through the labyrinth of moving rooms, all making sure the entire group had entered one chamber and closed the door behind before opening the next. "We opened up all the pillars with those keys we found and fixed the pipes so they run to this forge you supposedly found. We touched the gargoyles with the wand and lit up the hole in the floor. And we figured out that stupid FUCKING connection with the coats of arms and how they lined up with that one incidental picture in that one book that we would NEVER have found if Sour Apples didn't turn to it by ACCIDENT in order to put those plus signs in place for that key. We are currently moving through a maze of rooms that change position every time we close a door, and DOES ANYONE WANT TO DISPUTE THE FACT THAT WHOEVER DESIGNED THIS PLACE IS A SADISTIC FUCK?"

"No one is arguing, Torchwick," Snatcher assured him.

The final doorway was opened to the forge. "Cozy," Roman remarked as the seven spilled into the chamber.

"It wasn't this warm when we left it," Scarlet observed.

"A simple explanation, my dear," Snatcher told her. "Our work upstairs was to light the forge. It is now lit."

Rémington and Grany were the first to peer over the forge's lip and note the suspended cauldron full of bubbling molten metal. "Don't touch it," Grany warned.

"I wasn't going to touch it," Rémington huffed. "I'm not stupid."

"I can never tell what I need to warn you not to do these days!" Grany huffed.

Snatcher shoved them both aside, setting down the mold. "Now, let us see if our efforts paid off."

He settled the mold in place, pouring the metal into it. It took some time to cool, but it eventually hardened into a piece that was exactly the right size and shape to fit in the wall's keyhole.

"Open it," Scarlet said excitedly. "Open it, open it, open it!"

"In a moment, my dear!" Snatcher practically laughed.

"If there's another puzzle behind that lock," Roman groaned, "I'm going to shoot someone in the face."

Rémington pointed at Herb. "It should be him."

"Hey!" Herb snapped. "Rude!"

In fact, all had brought their weapons this time, having learned their lesson from Wickford Castle. No one expected a fight, but it was best to be prepared anyway. Roman's Cudgel, Neo's parasol, and the lava gun lay up against the wall, ready if need arose.

Snatcher led his six onlookers to the hole in the wall, inserting the key and twisting it. There was a groaning screech and a resounding click. The metal in the wall parted, revealing a small alcove beyond, upon which rested –

"A ROCK?" Roman, Rémington, and Grany yelled as one.

It was indeed a chunk of stone: pitch black and lumpy.

"After all we went through," Snatcher muttered, "there must be something about it. Something out of the ordinary."

"That looks like a space rock to me," Herb observed.

"It was rumored to be magic," Scarlet added. "Maybe it is."

"Or maybe the Penvellyns saw it fall out of the sky and assumed it was actually magic," Herb suggested.

"Well, we've come all this way," Snatcher reminded them. "We're taking it, even if it turns out to be worthless."

He reached for the meteorite, taking it into one hand. There was a sound of metallic rumbling from above.

Roman gave a start, but Scarlet and Herb beat him to the punch, acting as one unit to shove Snatcher out of the way of whatever trap had been activated, placing themselves where he had stood. A metal box of considerable size dropped from the ceiling, directly before the meteorite alcove, trapping Scarlet and Herb inside.

Immediately, both Overkills started banging on the interior of the box. "Let us out!" Scarlet cried in a panic.

"This thing's airtight!" Herb added. "Not much to breathe!"

Rémington and Grany gave each other a knowing look and a nod. As one, they said "Let's go" and turned to stalk out of the forge.

"Where are YOU going?" Roman yelled; Neo's jaw dropped.

"We got what we came for, didn't we?" Rémington reminded them. "Snatcher has the space rock. Now we can ditch the dead weight and get back to the WHAM ARMY with all our prizes."

"Dead WEIGHT?" Roman repeated; Neo's jaw fell a little further. Snatcher simply stared at the Smisses as though caught in a spotlight he didn't expect.

"Well, we liked them at first," Grany stated, "but there's obviously something about them Snatcher doesn't like."

"We still like them well enough, actually," Rémington admitted, "but saving them would be a chore. Why waste the time when we can leave them behind and take our loot? You don't really seem to want them around anyway."

This last statement was directed at Snatcher, whose gaze drifted from the Smisses to the fallen metal box, from which the pounding of fists still sounded.

"Well?" Rémington asked. "Are you coming or not?"

Snatcher clicked his tongue. "Monsieur Smisse," he scolded "Is that any way to treat our sister?"

He turned to the box; there was a metal railing running around the center. "Should we contribute the strength of every last one of us," he announced, "we should be able to lift it!" He dropped the meteorite to the floor and seized the railing, heaving upward. With Snatcher's strength alone, the task was fruitless; the box refused to budge. Roman and Neo immediately seized the railing on the other side, doing the same. They were able to lift the box an inch or two before it crashed down.

"Get over here," Roman strained through gritted teeth, "or Neo will kill you both in her sleep when we get back to base."

Neo nodded to affirm that she would definitely do it.

Rémington and Grany approached the box, seizing the front-side railing and adding their strength to the lift. Grany in particular was able to contribute a veritable amount. The box lifted just high enough that both Overkills could drop to the ground and crawl out from under it, which they proceeded to do. Once they were both free, Snatcher, Rémington, Grany, Neo, and Roman let the box drop, shaking their now aching hands.

"You totally saved us!" Herb cried.

Scarlet strode toward Rémington and Grany, fixing them with a murderous stare. "Did I hear you two say you were going to DITCH US?"

"No!" Rémington waved his hands in front of him, palms outward. "No, no, no! The walls of that box are very thick and you were hearing things."

"We organized everyone to save you!" Grany added.

"Really?" Scarlet said skeptically. "Because I'm pretty sure I heard who called for that, and it was…" She gave Snatcher a knowing, thankful look.

"Don't look at me," Snatcher said with a shrug. "It was all thanks to the brothers Smisse."

"Right," Scarlet huffed.

Snatcher picked up the meteorite, dusting it off. "Well, we have acquired what we came for," he announced. "I declare this mission a success. Shall we return to base and show the Overkills their new home?"

"Sounds good to me!" Roman said with a nod.

"This is it, Herb," Scarlet gushed. "We're finally going to belong!"

"And no more Minions," Herb agreed.

Weapons were gathered. Neo was the first to the door leading back to the labyrinth; she pried it open, stepping into the chamber beyond and illuminating it with Herb's flashlight. She turned to beckon the others to follow. Herb stepped in after her, followed by Grany, who had barged ahead of Scarlet.

Before anyone else could enter, the door slammed shut.

"Wait, what?" Roman said in surprise.

Scarlet opened the door to find the room empty. "They're gone," she noticed.

"But how is that possible?" Snatcher asked.

"There's only one way," Rémington realized. "Someone got into the rooms from the other side and is going through them the way we did."

The door slammed shut again. Scarlet shoved it back open to reveal a new empty chamber.

Roman's grip tightened on the Cudgel. "Well, whoever it is is in for a nasty little surprise," he muttered.

"Let's go," Scarlet said decisively, holding up the glowing green rock.

She stepped into the room, followed by Snatcher. The doors closed roughly behind them, the room they had entered rotating.

"We must press onward!" Snatcher insisted. "Torchwick and Monsieur Smisse shall be all right. We must discover our foe and stop them in their tracks." He disengaged his chain weapon from around his waist.

Snatcher and Scarlet barged through the door ahead.

One chamber behind, Roman saluted as he walked into the room. "I'm not giving you another chance to fuck me up," he said as he waited for the door to shut.

That left Rémington to enter the blindingly dark labyrinth on his own as soon as Roman had moved on.

The door across from Rémington opened, and Scar strode into the chamber, his headlamp providing enough light to see by. Scar feigned surprise upon meeting Rémington; "What a surprise. I was not aware of anyone still present within the manor."

"Is that so?" Rémington countered. This man already struck him as suspicious. "And you are…?"

"An officer of the law," Scar said. "I was made aware of a disturbance and wished to ensure that the residents of this manor were unharmed."

"So you found your way past all the puzzle locks," Rémington said skeptically.

"The doors were wide open," Scar told him.

That was true, Rémington figured. Still, something didn't quite ring.

"I take it you are a resident?" Scar asked.

"I am," Rémington answered. It wouldn't do too well to blow his own cover just yet.

"And you are unharmed?"  
"I am."

"I see," Scar mused. "Then I suppose I have no business here. Move aside, and I shall continue my work."

Rémington nodded, on his guard. The two men crossed the small room, passing each other.

And as they drew close, Scar slashed out with one claw-adorned fist.

Rémington was ready, leaping to the side wall; the claw ripped his clothing, but did no further damage. Rémington drew both pistols on Scar; "I think we both know we're not who we said we were."

"I had really thought that would work," Scar scoffed. "No matter." He held up his fists, both fitted with metal claws.

Rémington opened fire, and Scar ducked with only a moment to spare. He then realized exactly how unprepared he was for this battle. He'd put all his stock in being able to catch Rémington off guard. He crawled forth, slashing at Rémington desperately.

The door opened again. Grany barged in, crying, "Rémy! What's happening!"

Rémington looked casually to his brother. "This man is trying to kill me and steal our treasure," he stated.

Grany removed the sword from his back. "I'd like to see him try and kill ME."

Scar knew he was playing with forces far above his level. "This…was a misunderstanding!" he said as he backed toward the next door, the room still rotating. "You can keep your spoils!" He shoved open the door behind him, tumbling into the chamber beyond.

Elsewhere in the rotating labyrinth, Roman, holding up his flaming cigarette lighter, entered a room from one door at the same time that Harley, flanked by her hyenas, entered from another. "Well, well!" she remarked. "If it ain't the guy that killed Mr. J!"

"If it isn't the woman who dislocated my shoulder." Roman pocketed the lighter, letting Harley's headlamp do the work for him. He raised the Cudgel at Harley. "Oh, I have been waiting for this."

His finger tightened on the trigger, then hesitated. He realized he couldn't fire upon Harley Quinn for two very good reasons, both of whom would never let him hear the end of it. Realizing he had to switch tactics, he lowered the Cudgel to use as a blunt weapon.

His hesitation was enough time for Harley to give a sharp whistle. The hyenas lunged. As their paws connected with Roman's chest, the Cudgel blasted off, leaving a dent in the ceiling but otherwise doing no harm. One of the hyenas locked jaws around the Cudgel, wrenching it away from its owner.

Roman squirmed frantically beneath the hyenas, but both had him pinned. "I'd like ya to meet Bud an' Lou!" Harley laughed. "I promised them a new chew toy!"

"Get…off!" Roman growled as hyena saliva dripped in his face. He had a feeling he was in for an incredibly bad time.

That was when the doors opened and Neo came handspringing into the room, landing deftly on her feet before planting her parasol on the ground and using it as a fulcrum to lift off the ground and plant both legs into Harley's side. Harley attempted to throw a punch, but Neo's foot deflected her fist out of the way. As Harley stumbled, Neo planted both feet back on the ground, drawing her blade and rushing Bud and Lou.

"NO!" Harley cried. "MY BABIES!"

There was a sharp cry; the wounded Bud rushed back to Harley to cower alongside her. Lou needed only to see the flash of Neo's blade to know to make a retreat.

Neo offered Roman a hand, pulling him to his feet. She then rounded on Harley, Bud, and Lou, blade at the ready.

"Go easy on her, Neo," Roman warned. "I don't want her dead."

Neo turned back to look at Roman quizzically.

"If this gets back to Gar and Mister Twister," Roman told her, "and it will, we'll be on their shit list for LIFE."

Neo nodded decisively, sheathing the sword.

"We can't kill her," Roman reiterated, picking up his fallen Cudgel. "But we CAN beat her."

As Roman and Neo both rushed Harley, the latter, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by Neo at least, turned and bolted through the door, bringing Bud and Lou with her.

Scarlet held her glowing stone high as she and Snatcher found their way into the middle of the labyrinth, where the small stone cauldron marked the center. Joker was waiting for them there, headlamp shining brightly.

"Did you find any pretty new toys to play with?" he taunted.

"Who are YOU?" Scarlet asked angrily.

"I've never seen him before in my life!" Snatcher attempted.

"Oh, drop the act, Frou Frou," Joker sighed. "Or should I say…Archibald Snatcher?"

"How did you know that?" Snatcher barked in his natural timbre.

"I have my ways," Joker said enigmatically. "The one I'm not familiar with is your girlfriend."

"Whoa," Scarlet replied. "Don't get the wrong idea. There is nothing like THAT going on between us."

"Hm…I don't really care," Joker scoffed. "The only thing that interests me is whatever you found down here."

"We've found nothing," Snatcher lied. "Absolutely nothing." He discreetly passed the meteorite to Scarlet behind her back; she now held the meteorite in one hand and her glowing stone in another.

"Oh, well, that's too bad," Joker sighed. "Looks like I'll have to kill you for nothing, then."

"Then why kill us at all?" Scarlet asked.

"Oh, it won't be completely for nothing," Joker told her. "It'll be fun! And it'll get the two of you off my back for good." He reached into his jacket.

Scarlet and Snatcher slid to either side of the room as a pack of razor-sharp metal playing cards zipped through the air.

"Good reflexes!" Joker taunted.

"Better than you THINK!" Scarlet grunted as she threw a punch, hand full of meteorite.

Joker ducked the punch, grabbing Scarlet's hand and slamming it back into her own face; "Stop hitting yourself!"

Snatcher's chain wrapped around Joker's neck; Joker let go of Scarlet's wrist as she stumbled away. Joker rammed an elbow into Snatcher's stomach, then hit slightly lower; Snatcher was stunned into loosening the chain just enough that Joker could slip free. "I'm all choked up!" he laughed, reaching into his jacket for another toy.

When he withdrew a simple glass marble, Snatcher and Scarlet were momentarily thrown off their guard. Joker flicked the marble toward Snatcher, who backhanded it away into the wall.

The explosion the marble made upon contact with the wall threw Snatcher forward.

Scarlet spun at Joker from behind, readying a kick. He caught her by the leg, spinning her into Snatcher and throwing them both against the wall. Another marble was withdrawn. Scarlet and Snatcher scrambled to crawl away; the marble impacted where they had both fallen, each only narrowly escaping the explosion.

"I see it's time to test out my birthday present!" Joker now produced the pogo stick Harley had bought off Terminus, mounting it and hopping.

"Oh, you're kidding me," Scarlet groaned.

In midair, Joker took both feet off the stick, deploying a blade from its shaft. He spun the stick, blade outward. Scarlet was only just fast enough to evade; a thin line of blood trickled from where it opened her arm slightly.

Upon the next hop, Joker converted the stick to a cannon in midair, shooting at Snatcher. Snatcher aimed his own gun, incinerating the bullet in a rush of lightning. He then lobbed the mallet at Joker, who descended from ceiling height, letting the mallet pass over his head completely.

As he connected with the ground, Scarlet slammed both fists and the stones they held into the back of his head. Joker was sent tumbling head over feet off the pogo stick, somersaulting into the wall. As soon as he got back to his feet, he slid to the side to avoid a punch from Scarlet, letting her fist hit the wall. He threw his own fist at her waist only for her to slide out of range. Her knee drove upward into his chin, and he nearly bit off his own tongue as he reached out to wrap both hands around her throat.

Scarlet and Joker went tumbling across the floor, sometimes one rising on top, sometimes the other. Finally, Joker got the upper hand, pinning Scarlet down as he squeezed her throat, earning the choking noises of her losing air.

He had forgotten about Snatcher, whose high-heeled foot kicked right into the side of his head. While Joker was dazed, Snatcher seized him from above, ripping him off Scarlet and throwing him at the wall.

One of the doors opened, and Scar came stumbling in, followed by the Smisses. "This doesn't have to end in violence!" Scar insisted.

"But I like violence," Rémington told him.

Not a moment later, the opposite door opened, and Harley, Bud, and Lou barreled into the room with Roman and Neo in tow.

"Puddin'!" Harley shrieked.

"Not NOW, Harley!" Joker groaned. "Don't bring MORE of them to me!"

As soon as the door shut and the rooms rotated, it opened yet again; Herb, finding his way by the glow of the lava gun he carried, skidded into the room. "Did I miss the party?" he asked.

Snatcher, Scarlet, Roman, Neo, Rémington, Grany, and Herb stood on one side of the room. Joker, Harley, and Scar lined up at the other.

"How convenient!" Joker remarked. "All my enemies lined up to kill in a row!"

"Spare the girl," Roman commanded, "but fuck the other two UP."

Scar flinched as he narrowly ducked Grany's sword, which impacted over his head. Scarlet roundhouse-kicked Harley directly into Neo's waiting feet, which sent her tumbling and dizzied. Roman knocked Joker into disorientation with three strokes of the Cudgel; Snatcher's mallet nearly missed bashing Joker's skull in. As Joker's feet pushed Roman back, Roman turned his attention to Bud and Lou, smacking Bud away while Snatcher kicked Lou aside.

Joker dared to reach into his jacket pocket one more time.

However, an opening was left, and Herb and Rémington fired on him at the same time.

First, Rémington's bullet struck him in the thigh, bringing him down lopsidedly. But as a stream of lava from Herb's gun crossed Joker's chest, he gave a loud, pained scream.

"PUDDIN'!" Harley screeched. She twisted her way out from between Scarlet and Neo, seizing Joker by a shoulder. "We gotta get you outta here!"

"Not now, Harley!" Joker argued. He attempted to stand on the leg Rémington had shot. "We have them right where we want – "

With a cry, he fell down over the injured leg.

"SCAR!" Harley screamed. "Help me get him OUTTA HERE!"

Scar didn't need to be told to retreat twice. He and Harley each seized one of Joker's arms, lifting him to carry him away.

Joker managed to get inside his jacket once more, tearing open an inner pocket. "I may have lost the fight," he grunted, "but you're the ones who are going to LOSE THEIR MARBLES!"

He was borne out of the room by Harley and Scar, with Bud and Lou yipping all the way after them. The doors shut, and the myriad of explosive marbles Joker had let loose from his coat rolled toward Snatcher, Scarlet, Roman, Herb, Neo, Rémington, and Grany.

"THOSE THINGS EXPLODE!" Scarlet cried. "NOT ENOUGH SPACE!"

Out of pure instinct, everyone grabbed onto each other, crowding around Scarlet and cowering.

There was a brilliant flash from Scarlet's hand, and it took the others a moment too long to realize it was from the hand not holding the glow stone.

Then, just before the marbles could detonate, the seven were out on the front lawn of the manor in the depths of the night.

"What…the…fuck?" Roman whispered.

"The space rock!" Herb realized. "It was actually magic!"

The seven backed off from each other. "If it truly did fall from space," Snatcher realized, "it could indeed have otherworldly powers."

"Whooooo!" Roman sighed. "Looks like picking up that thing was worth it after all!"

The brief moment of elation the seven felt was interrupted by the sound of a voice calling out over a bullhorn: "WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED! DROP YOUR WEAPONS!"

The seven turned to see the manor completely surrounded by police cars, officers thronging. "YOU'RE UNDER ARREST FOR THE ATTEMPTED MURDER OF THE PENVELLYN FAMILY AND BREAKING AND ENTERING ON THEIR GROUNDS!" the voice continued.

"Well, at least they're British cops," Scarlet said with a shrug. "No guns."

Roman raised the Cudgel. "Cops without guns? This should be FUN."

"Hang on." Herb reached into his own jacket pocket, producing a rubbery green mass. "I've got this."

"PUT YOUR WEAPONS DOWN!" the voice repeated.

"Mr. Overkill!" Snatcher hissed as Herb fluffed out the green object into a spherical shape. "What are you doing?"

"Wait for it…" Herb placed the sphere on his head and tapped it, activating a swirl of colors. "Behold! HYPNO-HAT! …Actually, don't behold. Look away from it. Seriously."

"You are SHITTING me," Roman groaned.

Neo forcibly turned Roman's face away from the lights of the Hypno-Hat.

The eyes of the officers were all drawn to the flashing colors. "You're all dancing fools!" Herb called out across the lawn. "And you want to bust a move to THIS!" He broke out singing the song that he, Roman, and Neo had purchased so many plays of in the diner, doing a silly little dance to accompany it.

Mesmerized by the lights of the Hypno-Hat, every single officer began to sing along to the song, copying Herb's dance.

"All right!" Herb hissed to his companions. "Let's get outta here!"

"The space rock being magic and saving our asses, I buy," Roman groaned as the seven bolted across the lawn, "but this is too much."

"Don't overthink it," Rémington suggested. "It saved us."

"It won't last forever," Herb assured his companions. "It'll probably wear off by the time our 'friends' find their way out of the manor. That'll be fun."

"I hope we're all in agreement that this was our LAST adventure on this world!" Snatcher huffed as he jogged along. "It is most certainly time to return home!"

"No arguments!" Roman agreed.

"Home," Scarlet repeated. "We're actually going to our new HOME!"

...

Mozenrath and the Huntsman led Aghoul, Demyx, Vexen, Mim, Xayide, Wuya, Ravess, and Ragdoll up the great mountain that held the caverns of the last dragons. As they trod the path, the Huntsman remarked, "This place is well-hidden among the landscape. I am still awed you knew of it."

"I make it my business to blend in with the shadows," Vexen stated. "When you are all but invisible, you learn what is otherwise meant to be secret. For instance, the village at the base of this mountain may look deserted, but it is quite occupied. Be on your guard for intruders."

"That's what you'll be for," Mozenrath explained. "The Huntsman and I – "

The Huntsman cleared his throat. "Perhaps…since everyone present already knows my name, you could have the privilege of using it."

Mozenrath flushed, knowing he had just been given an honor. He tried to play it cool; "George and I will manage the dragons on our own. The rest of you are in charge of making sure we aren't interrupted by any outside forces while doing so."

"Do we HAVE to?" Demyx groaned.

"They're going to fight dragons while we await a threat that may never come," Ragdoll pointed out. "We have the much easier job."

"Caaaaan I take a nap?" Demyx asked.

"No," everyone but Ragdoll grunted.

"You wouldn't be comfortable on the ground here anyway," Ragdoll stated.

The path reached a cleft between two halves of the mountain. "Wait here," the Huntsman directed. "Mozenrath and I shall press onward."

"Good luck," Wuya bade them.

"We won't need luck," Mozenrath told her.

As the others hung back, turning their gazes downhill, Mozenrath and the Huntsman continued on through the fissure, entering a round arena. Above them, the mountain split completely in two with a wide gap; stairs led up to a bridge that linked one side to the other. A cavern was visible on either side of the bridge.

"Unmistakably the lairs of the dragons," the Huntsman observed. "Follow my lead."

"As you wish."

The pair ascended the stairway. The Huntsman turned to face one cavern while Mozenrath looked to the other. The Huntsman braced his staff while Mozenrath's gauntlet became ablaze with blue.

A low snarl echoed across the rock faces. In each cavern, a pair of green lights – reptilian eyes – shone brilliantly.

They erupted from the caverns: the long, serpentine firebending masters known as Ran and Shaw, brilliant red and deep blue. Their flexible bodies bent and swirled around the bridge as they observed their visitors, who had come without the eternal flame and with evil in their hearts.

"Now?" Mozenrath asked.

"Wait," the Huntsman bade him.

Ran and Shaw came to rest with their heads pointed upward at the Huntsman and Mozenrath, jaws opening wide. They had looked into the hearts of the pair and judged them to be murderers. For that, they had readied punishment.

"SHIELD!" the Huntsman commanded.

He conjured a spherical green deflection shield around himself and Mozenrath with the huntstaff's energy; Mozenrath added a blue sphere around this. Ran and Shaw's fire engulfed the shields, but could not break through them. The fire kept pouring as the dragons hoped to eliminate their attackers.

"You did this every DAY before we met?" Mozenrath laughed.

"They shall have to breathe," the Huntsman informed Mozenrath. "When they do, take the blue one and keep it out of my way. I shall handle the red."

"I think I can manage that," Mozenrath stated.

Ran and Shaw ran out of exhalation at the same time, stopping to draw air in. The deflection shields went down. The Huntsman leapt atop Ran's head while Mozenrath boarded Shaw's. Mozenrath twirled his right hand through the air, conjuring a massive collar and chain of blue energy to encircle Shaw's neck, its leash connecting up to his hand. The use of such power stung his skin in a way that was almost comforting and familiar. Shaw began to buck and struggle, but Mozenrath jerked the leash, forcing her mobility to be limited.

The Huntsman drove the point of his staff into the side of Ran's neck. Ran's tail reached around to flick the Huntsman away; the Huntsman deftly caught ahold of the tail, riding it away. He flipped himself onboard Ran's back, running up the side of it and dragging the staff the whole way, point driven in between Ran's thick scales. Ran tore away into the air, making a quick ascent in hopes of causing the Huntsman to fall away. The Huntsman was prepared for this, driving the staff further into the dragon's back and clutching tightly, letting himself be taken for the ride.

As Shaw looped round and round to try and shake Mozenrath away, Mozenrath was struck with an idea. Shaw was close to the bridge that spanned the gap between the two caverns. Mozenrath let the leash he held down, flicking his wrist to create another loop of chain that bound Ran to the bridge by the middle of her long body. Shaw thrashed; Mozenrath wobbled, but kept his balance long enough to create another chain that held Shaw's tail tight to the bridge. With one more flick, her head was also held fast.

Mozenrath vanished in a pop of sparks, reappearing next to the Huntsman, seizing the huntstaff with one hand to keep up with his flight. "Having fun?" he asked.

"The job, once done, will be its own reward," the Huntsman stated. "Though there is a certain thrill that cannot be denied."

"I take it you have things under control up here?"

"It will take but a moment to have this dragon subdued."

"Well, I thought you might want to know I gift-wrapped the other one for you," Mozenrath said slyly.

The Huntsman looked down to see Shaw, unable to break free of Mozenrath's restraints, turn belly-up. "So it would seem," he remarked. "Take us to the creature."

As Ran pulled into an inversion, Mozenrath transported himself and the Huntsman to the belly of Shaw. The Huntsman spun his staff in midair, spearing it down into Shaw's stomach.

Shaw gave a great cry, causing Ran to turn and rush to her rescue. Ran spewed forth a fountain of fire, jaws open wide as he closed in on the Huntsman.

"SHIELD YOURSELF!" the Huntsman yelled. Mozenrath did so, covering himself with a blue sphere. The Huntsman withdrew his staff from Shaw, surrounding his own body in green. When Ran got close enough, the Huntsman launched at him, the deflection shield holding firm against the dragon fire; the Huntsman landed exactly in Ran's throat.

Ran closed his jaws, thrashing his tongue to force the Huntsman into his digestive system. It was exactly as the Huntsman had wanted. He had made his fair share of kills exactly this way. The huntstaff glowed green.

Shaw watched helplessly and Mozenrath with delight as Ran's head separated from his body from the inside, the red dragon's entire body dropping to the ground. Mozenrath let his shield fall away, satisfied he was safe.

Anger and hatred filled Shaw: hatred warped from love for Ran. Power surged through her body, and this time, as she struggled, the chains Mozenrath had conjured cracked. Mozenrath realized what was happening a moment too late, and when he did, his concentration was broken.

The Huntsman exited Ran's slit throat at the bottom of the arena, ready to barge up the stairs and finish Shaw off. He watched in shock as Mozenrath's chains split apart and crumbled away. Shaw flicked her tail at Mozenrath, batting him into the air. She swatted him with a claw, and he tumbled from the bridge, speeding right for the ground.

Mozenrath prevented the fall from being deadly by cutting out a fair amount of distance with a quick teleportation spell, but that did not remove the momentum with which he hit the ground. He cried out as he stumbled. The Huntsman immediately rushed to his side.

"ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?" the Huntsman yelled worriedly…but angrily. Shaw was now rising into the air, getting away, removing his chance for his shot –

"I'm…fine…" Mozenrath attempted, trying to stand. He immediately fell back down and screamed. He gasped two breaths to find his voice: "Or my leg could be broken. That's a possibility."

Shaw had learned from Ran's mistake, not daring to get too close to the ground to allow the Huntsman the opportunity to enter her jaws. Instead, she let it rain fire from above. The Huntsman quickly shielded himself and Mozenrath in green.

The Huntsman knew he had a choice to make. He could pursue Shaw, leaving Mozenrath to defend himself with magic but no mobility. It could work, he mused, but already, Mozenrath had proven that he couldn't stand up to Shaw's unpredictability once. Or the Huntsman could remove Mozenrath from the battlefield, leaving Shaw to survive. He wouldn't have to make this choice, he lamented, had Mozenrath not been so careless!

When Shaw broke to inhale, he took his chance. He scooped Mozenrath up into his arms, rushing out of the arena. Why, oh, why did every mission they undertook end in the Huntsman having to escort Mozenrath this way? It frustrated them both.

As the battle had raged between the peaks, those left to guard the mountain cleft were presented with a very good reason for Demyx not to have taken a nap. Having decided to follow up on their investigation, Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, Stork, Jasmine, Zuko, Aang, and Katara were rushing up the hill and bringing an entire troop of Sun Warriors with them.

"Aw, maaaan!" Demyx groaned. "Not THAT guy! Nobody told me THAT guy was back!"

"His name is Sora," Vexen reminded Demyx, "and he is not to be taken lightly."

"You think I don't KNOW that?" Demyx sighed as he conjured his sitar into hand and plucked the strings, sending forth a host of watery forms.

"I like your style," Wuya told him, "but let's give it a little extra punch." She drew her hands upward from the ground; a battalion of rock creatures rose up and charged down the mountain alongside the water forms.

"Whoa," Demyx squeaked. "Cool…"

"Okay," Stork cried once he saw the elemental army coming at him and his company at top speed, "what are THOSE?"

"We fought those rock things before, remember?" Ruby recalled. "Mozenrath's friends make them!"

"But what about the OTHER things?" Stork asked.

"No," Sora gasped as he recognized the water forms.

"You know what those are, don't you?" Zuko asked.

"It better not mean what I think it does!" Sora growled.

"We can hold these creatures off!" the Sun Warrior chief promised, his hands aglow with fire. "Push through and stop the intruders!"

Sora, Ruby, Stork, Papyrus, Jasmine, Katara, Zuko, and Aang darted through the ranks of elemental warriors, leaving them behind to deal with the Sun Warriors as the eight neared the guardians on the slope.

"It IS him!" Sora growled as Demyx came within his sights. "I've fought this guy before! He really ticks me off!"

"Heh heh…" Demyx said nervously, clutching the sitar tightly. "Nice to see you?"

"NOT nice to see YOU!" Sora yelled, leaping at Demyx.

A wall of water collided with Sora, forcing him back. Demyx braced his hands over the sitar. "Double dare you to do that again," he snarled.

"Water," Katara realized. "He's using water." She rushed out in front of Sora, hands outstretched at her sides.

"Oh yeah?" Demyx taunted. "Eat THIS!" He struck another chord, causing fountains to spring up under Katara and launch her into the air.

She plunged her hands into the columns of water, manipulating their shape. They brought her back to the ground while turning to surge directly at Demyx, who gave a slight "Uh-oh" before he was slammed with his own attack.

Vexen created a wall of spikes between his faction and the incoming warriors, the points aimed at his enemies. However, Zuko melted through it with a simple swipe of his hands, covering it in a band of fire. He rushed Vexen with fire in hand, striking against Vexen's shield. Vexen found himself thankful that his heart was still hidden away on the cyclonian warship, else he would have been undergoing a great amount of fear whilst thinking about the last time he had perished.

With the wall down, Ruby held Crescent Rose high, charging into the fray. It was caught from the opposite direction by Aghoul's scythe. The two scythes spun and twirled through the air, biting at each other's curve.

Mim took on the form of the badgermole once more, gouging up a great clod of dirt and stone and lobbing it at Papyrus. Papyrus held it off with a shield of bone, letting it drop to the ground before fencing Mim into a pen made of bone. She sliced her way out as Papyrus pelted her from all angles.

Aang stomped on the ground, forcing another wall to rise, this one made of earth and encircling Xayide. Xayide blew through it with a small explosion; Aang retaliated by rolling a sphere of compressed air at her that threatened to knock her off her feet. She dispelled it with a single touch.

Sora swung his blade repeatedly at Wuya only for her to duck and dodge every single swipe. She was left no opening with which to retaliate, though, between the quickness of his blows. He cast a Fire spell, and she backflipped, head over heels, letting it pass under her in midair before she landed on her hands and delicately rose to her feet. She raised her leg to kick at Sora's face and found her ankle blocked by the shaft of the Keyblade.

Ravess raised her bow, letting loose an arrow at Jasmine. Jasmine had no time to react, but the tip of the arrow stopped just an inch before her face. Stork grasped it, looking quite surprised with himself that he'd caught it in midair. He threw it right back at Ravess, where it thunked against her face and fell harmlessly to the ground. Ravess lowered her bow, leaping to kick into Stork's face from above; he sidestepped, moving behind her and striking her back with his elbow.

Jasmine then rushed Ragdoll, swinging the blunt end of her spear at him; he twisted his upper body out of the way while his feet remained in place. He then grasped the shaft of the weapon, pulling Jasmine off balance with it. She was forced to relinquish the spear, which was tossed aside as Ragdoll spun toward her; he put Jasmine in a brief headlock before she reached up and punched him hard in the face.

The WHAM ARMY was holding their own against Sora and his friends, Wuya realized. They weren't winning by a landslide, but things seemed more even than usual. Perhaps, she thought as her wrist was blocked once again by Sora's blade, a few more moments would grant them the victory.

The Huntsman burst from the fissure in the rock, clutching Mozenrath tightly. "WE MUST RETREAT!" he bellowed.

Well, Wuya thought, so much for that. Even if she argued, it looked like the Huntsman and Mozenrath were in no condition to fight. Their very presence would bring the group down.

Not to mention that their very appearance caused everyone to lose focus. Katara threw Demyx's bubbles back into his face, Zuko shoved Vexen several feet back, Aang finally knocked Xayide over with the wind, Ruby smacked Aghoul back with the back end of Crescent Rose, Papyrus had created a wall of bone that Mim scratched furiously around as she tried to reach him, Stork threw Ravess across the field, and Jasmine kicked Ragdoll in the stomach so that he ended up backpedaling to the same area the rest of the WHAM ARMY had ended up in. It was most certainly time to retreat.

"We'll see you on the next world," Wuya promised Sora as she leapt back, creating a Corridor for the WHAM ARMY to file into. Demyx barged into it first, followed by the Huntsman carrying Mozenrath, and then everyone else. The Corridor snapped shut before Sora, the first one to reach it, could enter.

Down on the hillside, the rock creatures crumbled to dust and the water forms splashed into puddles.

"You really think they left?" Aang asked.

"I'm more concerned with what they did while they were here," Zuko said somberly.

The eight heroes proceeded through the cleft into the arena, stricken with horror at the sight before them.

"No," Ruby gasped.

Sora flinched at the sight.

Stork looked on in awe and disgust. He gagged, clapping a hand over his mouth to keep from vomiting.

Papyrus trembled; Ruby and Jasmine reached out from either side to place their hands on his upper arms and steady him.

Aang's eyes watered with tears. "Ran!" he sobbed. "Not Ran!"

Katara pulled Aang into a hug from behind, wanting to offer all the comfort she could.

Zuko simply stared in horror, shaking his head, his jaw slack and open.

Blood poured from both Ran's severed head and his lifeless body. Above him, perched upon the bridge, Shaw, suffering quite a few wounds of her own, raised her head to the sky and gave a roar of mourning.


	53. Let's Groove

53\. Let's Groove

A/N: Trigger warning for domestic abuse. And, just to be safe, one for discussion of suicide.

...

"Run! RUN AWAY!"

That was the cry that heralded as Demyx skidded into the control room of the Cyclonian warship. He would have kept on running if he'd had any idea which way led to where. As it were, he stood in the middle of the room, taking a good look around. "Whoa. Creepy architecture."

The Huntsman, Mozenrath, Wuya, Aghoul, Mim, Xayide, Vexen, Ravess, and Ragdoll spilled out after him; Mim sealed the Corridor with a flourish.

Snatcher, having exchanged his gown for his coat and trousers, strode past the room, leading and scolding a sheepish Rémington. "And I expect you not to pull a stunt like that again," he stated. "Or it won't be MY wrath you'll have to face. It'll be hers."

"And I don't want that," Rémington agreed.

The pair noticed the sudden arrival of the group, diverting their course to enter the room. "You've returned!" Snatcher greeted.

"And you brought another new friend," Rémington noted, eyeing up Demyx.

"Well?" Snatcher asked. "Were you successful?"

"The Spirit Waters restored my entire memory," Mozenrath related, "and their leftovers are just what we need to complete the water portion of our spell. I'd call that a pretty good result."

"Indubidably!" Snatcher nodded. He then fully realized that Mozenrath was being carried by the Huntsman at that moment. "Though your current position suggests your success didn't come without…pitfalls."

"Our date night could have gone better," Mozenrath admitted.

"Date night?" Snatcher and Rémington repeated in awe.

Before Mozenrath could say more, he was set roughly upon the ground. The Huntsman was walking away without a word.

"WHERE are you going?" Mozenrath yelled.

"I wish to be alone," the Huntsman growled.

"What's got into him, then?" Snatcher asked.

"Hopefully, some sense," Vexen sniffed.

"So you two are a thing?" Rémington asked.

"More or less, yes," Mozenrath answered, a great wide smile overtaking his face unbidden.

"So your mission went off without a hitch, then!" Snatcher said with a grin.

"WITHOUT A HITCH?" Wuya, Mim, and Xayide grumped at the same time.

"We were tricked into selling our souls!" Mim snarled.

"We became the playthings of one of Maleficent's minions!" Wuya added.

"We were rescued by our other nemeses in a humiliating manner," Xayide hissed.

"Other nemeses?" Rémington asked.

"The boy with the great key," Snatcher realized.

"And let's not forget that I did ALMOST die," Mozenrath chimed in, though with considerably less vitriol.

"Not to mention that Vexen won't stop criticizing the rescue party that had to stop Mozenrath from becoming hypnotized," Ravess grumbled.

"Because said party deserves criticism!" Vexen snapped.

"Mozenrath is technically still susceptible to hypnotism," Aghoul pointed out. "That's going to come around to bite us eventually."

"I didn't even want to be here!" Demyx groaned. "I wanted to just fly under the radar for the rest of my life! But apparently you guys NEED a thief and a healer!"

"Well, I had a good time," Ragdoll said with an ear-to-ear smile.

"OF COURSE YOU DID," everyone else snapped at him.

"You better not have had a better time than us!" Mim growled. "You'd better have suffered every bit as much as we did!"

"We stole a magic rock," Rémington said slyly, "as well as four crown jewels. We made two new friends who we adopted as siblings and had a great night out dancing. It sounds like we had a MUCH better time than you did."

"WHY YOUUUUU…" Mim rolled up her short sleeves. "I'LL KILL YOU FOR THIS!"

"Go ahead," Rémington challenged. "You'll have to catch me first."

He spun on a heel and bolted. Mim shifted into the body of a cheetah, pouncing after him. Rémington withdrew a gun and fired it wildly behind him; Mim deflected every shot in a burst of sparks. The sounds of feline growling and gunshots faded as they got further down the hall.

"Okay, should you guys be worried about this?" Demyx asked.

"No," Mozenrath informed him. "I think for those two, that's just what most normal people would call 'foreplay.'"

"Starting to regret this," Demyx muttered.

"Can someone just get me down to the medical bay?" Mozenrath grumbled. "This is humiliating, and it still HURTS."

"Hardly a day goes by when I don't have to patch your broken limbs," Vexen sighed.

"Speaking of," Wuya brought up, "how's Roman?"

"Fortunately unharmed," Snatcher told her. "I do believe Lord Mozenrath coming home worse off than him is becoming the norm, and I'm not about to complain."

"For the record, I'm complaining LOUDLY," Mozenrath groaned. "Still, it's good to finally be back."

...

Katara, Aang, Zuko, Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, Jasmine, and Stork had returned to the Fire Nation Capital after discovering the slain body of Ran, but not before holding a funeral in the dragon's honor. The Sun Warriors had vowed never to tarnish Ran's memory, and to nurse his and Shaw's egg while protecting it with their lives.

From there, it was a waiting game. The young heroes were patient for a whole day, keeping watch to see if Ozai, Zhao, Facilier, or Mozenrath would return. But none did; there wasn't even any sign of Azula.

"I dunno," Sora said after the sun began to descend. "I'm starting to think we chased them off for good."

"Mozenrath and his friends probably did make it to another world by now," Ruby added.

"ISN'T THIS THE SECOND TIME THEY'VE HAD TO CARRY MOZENRATH OFF THE BATTLEFIELD?" Papyrus pointed out. "HE IS REALLY NOT DOING SO WELL."

"If he's gone," Jasmine stated, "we have to follow him."

"IF WE'RE SURE EVERYTHING IS FINE HERE," Papyrus insisted.

"Everything's seemed okay so far," Zuko stated. "That doesn't mean we can let our guard down, but if you need to go, we can handle things here."

"Besides," Sora said, "it's not even Mozenrath we need to follow. We promised Ruby we'd help her find Cinder, remember?"

"I wish we COULD go with you," Aang sighed. "Seeing new worlds sounds like a lot of fun! And I think we're pretty good friends! But now more than ever, this world needs the Avatar."

"And the Fire Lord," Zuko nodded.

"Now, wait a minute!" Katara argued. "All of those people – the ones who attacked the capital AND the ones who killed Ran – came from other worlds! The threat isn't here! It's out there, and we need to go stop it!"

"But what if they do come back?" Aang worried. "We need to stay here."

"We will miss you," Jasmine stated.

"You'll always be our pals!" Sora said with a nod.

"But if you have to protect this world, then that's just what you have to do," Ruby said decisively.

"There…is something that occurred to me," Zuko realized. "But I don't think you'll like it."

"What?" Aang and Katara asked as one.

"The capital needs its Fire Lord to help pick up the pieces and reassure the people," Zuko reiterated. "Not to mention that I'm the ruler of the Sun Warriors by a technicality, and they need my support too, even if it can't be public. Aang is the Avatar. The one who saved us all in the past and the one who keeps the balance. It wouldn't be smart for him to leave, especially when there could be more threats on their way in. He's the most powerful of all of us. But Katara isn't as politically relevant to the Fire Nation. We could protect it without her if we wanted. Katara, if you want to follow the others to try and find the people who attacked us, you could go. But it would mean you and Aang would have to split up, and I know you're not going to like that."

Katara and Aang exchanged a look.

"I know you want to go," Aang said plainly. "You want to see what's out there and try and help from the other side."

"I just feel like that's the most productive way to go about this," Katara said. "Even following Ruby's enemy. It could be linked to what happened to us. But I would have to leave you. I don't WANT to leave you."

"I don't really want you to leave either," Aang admitted. "But…if I can't go on their adventure to see what else is out there, somebody should have that chance. It's going to be a once-in-a-lifetime thing. And if you want to go, I can't think of anybody I'd want to be able to experience it more." He gave Katara a smile. "I'll think about you every day, and we'll be together again. I know it. But that's only if you want to go."

"I do," Katara sighed. "Leaving you would be the only thing stopping me. But I do think at least one of us needs to investigate the rest of this. I think…I have to do this." She turned to the five outworlders. "If you'll have me."

"We'd LOVE if you came along!" Sora emphasized.

"THE MORE, THE MERRIER!" Papyrus insisted.

Stork, Ruby, and Jasmine punctuated this with nods of enthusiasm.

"You'll get along great with the others!" Sora added.

"The others?" Katara repeated.

"We've got a whole group building back at Radiant Garden," Sora told her. "We're all fighting the same enemies together. They'll love you. Trust me."

Katara nodded. "I will." She turned to Aang. "I…guess this is goodbye. But not forever. I'll be back. I promise. And I'll think of you all the time."

"Just have fun," Aang told her.

"I will," Katara said with a smile.

They closed the distance between each other, pressing lip to lip in a kiss of farewell. Zuko averted his eyes, turning slightly red. Sora, Ruby, and Papyrus gave a loud "AAAWWWW!" Jasmine simply smiled while Stork rolled his eyes, pretending he didn't find the scene cute in the slightest.

It took some time for Katara and Aang to part. Sora and Jasmine were reminded of Riku and Aladdin, respectively, and how much time they'd spent apart from them; some catching up would have to be done upon the return to Radiant Garden, provided they hadn't all missed each other's coming and going like ships in the night.

Katara then flung her arms around Zuko. "I'm gonna miss you too," she said rather playfully. "Believe it or not."

Zuko was stunned for a moment before gently embracing his friend. "Take care of yourself."

When Katara backed off, she told Aang and Zuko, "You two take care of each other."

"We will!" Aang and Zuko said in unison, giving each other an amicable smile.

Katara turned back to the outworlders. "So," she asked, "where to first? Radiant Garden?"

"You know it!" Sora replied.

...

Herb's prediction had been right: the hypnotism had worn off the police surrounding Blackmoor Manor at the exact moment that Harley and Scar had come bearing Joker out the front door, Bud and Lou in tow. Even with Joker wounded, the fight the trio had on their hands was not stacked against them. They left the police the worse off before boarding the ship they had parked some distance away.

The ride home was tense. Partly because no matter how many times Harley asked anxiously if Joker was all right, he refused to answer. Partly because Scar rode curled up in his seat, hounded by Bud and Lou, hoping they wouldn't give him any more beauty marks.

Upon return to Villain's Vale, Joker and Scar were given over to Grimhilde and Ursula: Joker to be repaired and Scar to be given back his feline body. Harley was shooed away from both procedures, and she scurried away to the room she shared with Joker, not even bothering to pay attention to the goings-on elsewhere in the castle – something to do with a Shadow Man and an admiral who had gained an audience with Maleficent.

Once alone in her and Joker's quarters, Harley paced the length of the room nervously, then paced the perimeter, then sat down on a couch and let her stomach boil. He would be fine. He had to be fine. She couldn't bear if he wasn't. She had finally let go of that other man, the one who was him but not, and her heart was given over, she realized.

She loved him.

And she didn't want to continue without him.

The wait drained. Harley reminded herself that Grimhilde and Ursula were both accomplished witches and therefore accomplished healers; she repeated it to herself over and over mentally so it would sink in. She lay across the length of the couch, unable to support any part of her body upright. Of course Joker wouldn't die, she knew, but what if the attacks left him severely disabled? What if he would never be able to walk on his injured leg again? What if –

The door creaked.

Harley was suddenly filled with the energy to sit bolt upright. Joker was entering the room, looking healthy as he'd ever been.

"Mr. J!" Harley rushed to him, arms stretched outward. "I've been so worried, ya don't even know – "

He put out a single arm, pressing it against her upper chest, holding her back from being able to embrace him. "You worry too much, Harley," he said calmly, looking her in the eye.

Something in his gaze was off kilter, Harley observed. She let her arms drop to her sides. He wanted something out of her, and she was desperate to know what it was, how she could fix whatever ailed him.

"In fact," Joker continued, "I'd venture to say worrying might be a personal weakness of yours. Worrying about all the wrong things and all the wrong people."

Harley's heart dropped into her stomach. Did he suspect?

"Didn't you find it a little odd that the manor was completely vacated?" he went on. "Almost as if the people inside had some sort of…advance warning that there would be an attack on their home later that night. But that couldn't be possible, could it, Harley? Because the only ones who knew about that were the three of us. And we never took our eyes off each other. Well, except for when I was out stealing that ice cream truck you so badly insisted upon. I didn't even want an ice cream truck, but it was ever so important to you. I do hope you didn't repay what I did for you by ratting me out to the people who lived in that manor so they would have time to pack up and get away."

"I didn't!" Harley said nervously. "I…I wouldn't! You think I'd ruin our chance like that?"

"Odd, then," Joker went on, "that when we exited the manor, we were completely SURROUNDED BY COPS. Now, if the family HAD been given an advance warning, they would surely have run to the police after evacuating, sending them to their home to arrest the people who had made an attempt to rob them. But that would have been utterly impossible, wouldn't it, Harley?"

"That Scar fella mighta done it," she argued. "Where was HE when you were takin' the truck, huh?"

"Where, indeed," Joker mused. "It could very well have been him. After all, he could have been nothing but talk with a soft heart beneath. And he isn't as close to us as each other is. We are so close, Harley, you and I. I would hate for there to be any secrets between the two of us. If you're lying to me, I want to know now. After all, what is our partnership without trust?"

"I dunno," Harley replied, a sudden steel hardening in her voice. "Why didn't you trust me with knowin' that you set that gas bomb up so they'd die instead of just gettin' knocked out?"

"What did that matter to you, Harley?" Joker growled. "Why would that matter even one tiny little BIT?"

"They were innocent," Harley said softly, her voice shrinking to a whisper. "They didn't do anythin' to deserve…I…" He was right. There could be no secrets. No lies. "I didn't want 'em to die like that…not when they didn't do nothin' to us…"

"So you DID warn them." His voice was feral. His hands moved to grip her shoulders roughly.

"It ain't like it made a difference!" Harley said with renewed vigor. "We lost because of the WHAM ARMY, not the cops!"

"You went behind my back, Harley," Joker snarled. "Do you know just how disrespectful that is? How absolutely VILE of you?"

"It didn't make a difference!"

"You still LIED to me!" He shook her to punctuate this statement. "All so you could be noble Saint Harley, protector of the innocent! I thought you were different. But all you Harleys are the same!"

"I ain't the same as – "

"QUIET!" Joker growled. He shoved her hard; she crashed to the floor, feeling bruises already forming. "Saint Harley," he repeated. "If you want to be a martyr so badly, then would you take punishment so they didn't have to?"

"Mr. J…" Harley said desperately. "What're you sayin'? We're partners!"

"Partners don't betray each other, Harley," Joker replied. "And turnabout is fair play. You double-cross me…I get to double-cross you for a moment."

"Please…" She could sense what he was going to do. She crawled backward, away from him, looking around him at the door. Should she try to make a run for it? Should she try to reason with him? "Don't do what you're thinkin'. We can talk this out!"

"The time for talking is over, Harley," Joker stated. "You should have thought about it long and hard before you went ahead and warned them."

He advanced, and she braced herself.

...

Roman Torchwick had fun making every landing from the rollercoaster into the laboratory more dramatic and graceful than the last. It was really a pity, he thought, that no one had been watching when he made his most recent pose.

As he proceeded into the lab, he very nearly trod on a small, dark shape shuffling its way across the floor. Looking down, he was greeted with the sight of a deep purple armadillo.

"I'm walkin' here!" the armadillo grumped in a familiar voice.

"SNIPE?" Roman said in awe.

"Who else would I be?" Snipe grumbled up at him.

Roman was at a loss for words. He simply collapsed into laughter.

"Hey, what's so funny?" Snipe asked.

"You…you do know you're an armadillo, right?" Roman guffawed.

"Armadillo?" Snipe repeated. "I knew you were bad at insults, but that's a new one. I don't even get it."

Snipe shuffled his way out of the lab in his much smaller body without noticing a thing; Roman's laughter carried him all the way in to where Herb was setting up on a table some distance away from Yzma's – occupied by Yzma and Zevon, who were cackling madly – and Vexen's, which was bereft of human life, as Vexen was preoccupied in the medical bay. Rémington leaned against the wall, twirling a pistol.

"Looks like I found the party!" Roman announced. "What brings you all the way down here, Rémy?"

"Just a little game of hide and seek with Mimsie," Rémington lied. He had his eye on Herb's lab table.

"So?" Roman sidled up to Herb. "Settling in?"

"I think this is gonna work great!" Herb gushed. "Lots of space, all the right equipment…I could build all kinds of stuff in here!" He spread out a wealth of blueprints on the table.

"Your old designs?" Roman asked.

"Yeah," Herb replied. "I like to keep them for posterity, but I'm looking at bigger and better."

"Well, we really didn't have a tech guy," Roman informed him. "Unless you count me and Gar, which it's better not to."

"Trust me, we are in dire need of such skills," Yzma said from across the room.

As Roman and Herb looked to her and Zevon, Rémington took advantage of the opportunity to slip one of Herb's blueprints into his possession, hiding it beneath what remained of his cape.

"Hey, yeah, I've been meaning to talk to you two," Roman told them. "So this whole time, you've had a secret son you've been hiding from us. Is he some kind of evil genius?"

"Only the most intellectigent of the intelligencuals!" Zevon insisted.

"I…I'm just gonna leave that alone," Roman resolved. "Anyway, welcome to the team, kid."

"I'm not a kid!" Zevon snapped. "You hardly look older than me!"

"Yeah, yeah, kid," Roman said with a dismissive wave. "You're the son of one of our founding WHAMMERs, which makes you the team baby."

"Speaking of which," Mozenrath said as he strode forth from the medical bay, Vexen looming behind, "I'm twenty-five."

"Eh, I was close," Yzma said with a shrug. She then shook her head; "Wait. You REMEMBER how old you are?"

"I remember everything," Mozenrath told her. "Something in those Spirit Waters put everything back where it belonged."

"WONDERFUL!" Yzma cried. "This will save us having to recap a lot of things."

"That it will," Mozenrath agreed. "Between this and being our water element, those Spirit Waters ended up being more than worth the trouble."

"Speaking of the elements," Vexen brought up, "while waiting for Mozenrath's repair procedures to take effect, I completed my analysis of the meteorite brought home by Mr. Snatcher and company, and I have made a discovery of note."

"Ohhhhh?" Roman replied.

"The meteorite's origin is from deep within interspace," Vexen explained. "It contains mild spacebending properties and qualities not unlike the Gummi substance. It must have fallen onto the world you were investigating by pure chance. It should suffice as our concentrated space element."

"Well, how about that!" Roman said, quite pleased with himself.

"You brought back an element," Mozenrath stated, "and we brought back an element. I believe that leaves three. Very well done, Torchwick."

"I couldn't have done it without Archie," Roman replied. Then, jokingly: "The others were optional."

"And I admittedly couldn't have gotten my hands on the waters without Vexen's old co-worker," Mozenrath admitted. "Unfortunately."

"Yeah, what's the deal on that guy?" Roman asked.

"He's an expert thief," Mozenrath related. "Résumé includes looting Mount Olympus. He also has more raw magical power than you'd expect. Can do some noteworthy things with water. He's also the most insufferable person I've met to date, and I already loathe working with him."

Roman latched onto two words: "Expert thief? He can't be better than me."

"Have you ever stolen from a god?" Mozenrath asked Roman with a raised brow.

"Just because I haven't doesn't mean I couldn't," Roman insisted. "Point me in the direction of a god and I'll show you what I'm made of."

"Why do I get the feeling he's all talk?" Zevon mocked.

"Hey, kid," Roman snapped, "respect your elders."

"Elders?" Zevon gestured to Mozenrath. "He just said he's twenty-five! He IS younger than me!"

"You still answer up to me," Mozenrath reminded Zevon.

"And YOU are going to be nice to my son," Yzma growled.

"From what my mother has told me," Zevon stated, "it sounds like you and I are kindredful spirits, Mozenrath."

"How so?" Mozenrath asked.

"Thirsty for power," Zevon rattled off. "Always on the lookout for powerful magical artifactions. Brilliantelligent minds. I actually look forward to taking over the worlds with you."

"Well," Mozenrath told Zevon, "assuming you prove yourself – "

Yzma cleared her throat loudly and fixed Mozenrath with a deadly glare.

Mozenrath realized he respected Yzma too much to taunt her kin. "Actually, proof is relative," he said with a shrug. "If Yzma believes you have what it takes, so do I. I look forward to working with you too."

"There's just one order of business left surrounding this," Roman said with a sly grin. "Yzma, you're a MOM. You know what that makes you?"

"No?" Yzma said tentatively.

"Yz-mom," Roman told her. "From now on, you're Yz-mom."

"WHAT?" Yzma spat. "No! NO! You can't! Roman, I'm begging you! Go back to 'Lavender'! Or remember the days when I was 'Fluffy'? Those were good days!"

"Nope," Roman told her. "Yz-mom it is."

Mozenrath couldn't stifle his laugh.

Yzma's expression turned sour. "Fine. Have your fun. You'll get tired of that nickname."

"I think you should be proud to call yourself my mother!" Zevon insisted.

"Well, I do have a son with good taste," Yzma admitted.

"And maybe this means you'll stop acting like MY mother and pay attention to your actual offspring," Mozenrath added.

"I have NEVER acted like your mother!" Yzma argued.

"Waaaiiiit," Roman suddenly realized. "Yz-mom, were you projecting your maternal instincts onto Mozenrath because you already knew you fucked up with your actual kid?"

That brought a silence over the room.

"Talk about armor-piercing questions," Herb broke in.

"Whyyyyy, th-th-that's just s-silly!" Yzma sputtered. "I never cared about Zevon until now! I certainly NEVER projected anything onto Mozenrath!"

"Let's just…let that sleeping Cerberus lie," Mozenrath suggested. "It's not like I ever wanted or needed a mother."

Yzma was thankful that Roman didn't know anything of Aaliyah, or he would have driven right for that destination.

"I just want my like-minded friends," Mozenrath went on. "And I have that. End of discussion."

"If no one has any more need of me," Vexen broke in, "I am going to return to my work." He took a seat at his table, pulling a notepad and a beaker toward himself.

"Yo, Iceman," Roman called out. "Forgetting something? I need my space rock back."

"We can put it with the other elements," Mozenrath resolved. A shiver ran down his spine when he thought of how close he was to reaching the goal he'd set out to accomplish.

Vexen begrudgingly held out the meteorite. Roman reached for it, then backed off. "Righty? You want the honors?"

Mozenrath swiped the meteorite. "Perfect," he muttered with a smile as he observed it lying on his open palm. He then looked up at Roman; "I overheard a bit of Mr. Overkill's introduction to Yzma as he moved in. Apparently you also picked up a master criminal."

"Strawberry Punch!" Roman identified. "I think you'll like her."

"I want to meet her," Mozenrath resolved.

"So do I, in fact," Yzma said. "I have a feeling she and I will get along just swimmingly!"

"You both have the diva factor," Herb informed Yzma as Rémington, stuffing the last of Herb's blueprints into his clothing, slunk from the lab. "I'm guessing you're gonna be besties."

"Yzma?" Mozenrath suggested. "Shall we?"

Yzma turned to Zevon. "Well?"

"I'd actually like to continue conversationalizing with Herb," Zevon admitted. "I want to know more about his sciencific creations."

"And I'm mad curious about your alchemy," Herb told Zevon.

"We'll let this match made in Elysium play out here," Mozenrath told Yzma, "while we go find and interrogate his better half."

Yzma left her table to join Mozenrath on the walk out of the lab. "Sounds like a plan to me!"

Roman fell in step next to them. "You two go on ahead," he encouraged. "I'm going to track down something edible."

When they left the laboratory area, Yzma and Mozenrath went one way while Roman went another. Roman ended up in the kitchen, lighting himself a quick cigarette while making a sandwich and finishing the smoke off before wolfing the food down.

Neo breezed into the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of juice from the refrigerator.

"Hey, Neo," Roman greeted.

Neo gave him a nod, searching through the cabinets to find ingredients for her own lunch.

"If you're thinking PB&J," Roman warned her, "there is not a lick of peanut butter to be found in the place."

Neo gave a sigh. She settled for a sandwich made of a sliced deli meat carved from a bird native to Atmos, with pickles as a garnish. As she sat down to eat, she lightly shoved Roman's stomach with her elbow.

"Still mad at me?" Roman asked.

Neo held up a hand and waggled it; she was somewhat miffed, but not fully.

"I'm sorry, okay?" Roman groaned. "It's not like I just walk around everywhere yelling, 'HEY, EVERYONE, NEO'S TR – '"

That was when Demyx and Garfield entered the same kitchen.

" – IFFIC!" Roman finished off hurriedly. He had vowed the sixth time would be the last time he outed Neo, and he meant to stick to it. "Have I ever told you guys how terrific Neo is?"

Neo wondered whether she should give Roman a pass for that save. In the end, she admired his intentions, and flashed him a thumbs-up.

"Yeah," Garfield confirmed. "You have warned me SEVERAL times not to get in her way."

"Should I be scared of her?" Demyx asked in a nervous voice.

Neo fixed her eyes upon Demyx's, smiled, and nodded.

Demyx flinched, backing up a pace.

"So you're the new guy, huh?" Roman greeted. "Dishwater?"

"Demyx," Demyx corrected. Then, realizing what he'd done: "No, wait! My REAL name is – "

"It's Dishwater," Roman insisted. "Righty tells me you're some kind of master thief."

"We were just talking about that," Garfield informed Roman, "and I was saying there's no way he's better than me at nicking stuff."

"Yeah-huh!" Demyx insisted. "I stole from MOUNT OLYMPUS! Do you know how big of a deal that is?"

"I helped organize a breakout from the Underworld," Roman argued.

"Not a theft," Demyx snapped.

"The way I see it, there's only one way to settle this," Garfield resolved. "We each pick something hard to steal, we all go for it, and we see who ended up with what at the end."

"Sounds good to me," Roman said with a nod. "Meet in the karaoke room to compare spoils?"

"Sounds like more work than I wanted," Demyx sighed, "but I'm in."

"Neo?" Roman asked.

Neo shook her head, waving her hand to indicate the three men should settle this debate among themselves and not involve her.

"Dibs on Eyeliner's eyeliner," Roman called. "I'm going to use it on my own face and see if she notices."

"I'm taking something off Iceman's table," Garfield boasted. "While he's using it."

"I dunno," Demyx asked. "What should I go for? Hit me with something impossible. I know you want me to lose."

"All right," Roman told him. "You asked for it. You're taking Righty's gauntlet."

"I gotcha," Demyx said with a nod.

"On three, we break," Roman stated. "One…"

"Two…" Garfield picked up.

"Three!" Demyx chimed in.

The three thieves parted ways, and Neo considered what kind of a chance Roman stood as she chewed on her sandwich. Despite the odds, she had faith in him.

...

The Gummi ship containing Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, Stork, Jasmine, and Katara sailed through interspace, bringing its passengers back to home base. Sora, Jasmine, Papyrus, and Ruby spoke of the wonders of Radiant Garden and the friends Katara would make while she was there.

At some point, Katara figured out who wasn't talking. "Hey," she called up to the driver's seat. "Stork? You haven't said anything since we took off. Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," Stork said in a halfhearted tone. "Just…haven't had much to add."

Everyone could sense there was something he wasn't saying. "Are you sure?" Katara pressed. "Because I feel like something's…wrong."

"You can talk to us about anything," Jasmine assured him.

"Unless you really do just want to be left alone," Katara said quickly.

Jasmine nodded. "Only if you're comfortable. But if you need to talk, we're here."

A heavy silence hung over the ship's interior. Then, at last, Stork admitted, "There's…something I think I need to say. Ever since before the invasion of the Fire Nation Capital. When…Ruby was talking about being the biggest hypocrite for leaving her own family after we got mad at Sora for leaving his." He inhaled deeply, slowly. "She's…not the biggest hypocrite here."

"But you didn't leave your family," Ruby pointed out.

"Not my birth family," Stork said, his voice cracking. "But…the Storm Hawks became my second family. Aerrow even said as much during our home movie night. That's what we meant to each other. And I…almost…" His voice broke completely: "…abandoned them…"

"IT CAN'T BE AS BAD AS YOU THINK IT IS," Papyrus tried to reassure. "WE KNOW YOU! IF YOU RAN AWAY FROM THEM FOR A WHILE, I'M SURE YOU HAD AN EXCELLENT REASON – "

"I didn't RUN AWAY!" Stork yelled. "I tried to…I TRIED to…" He gave a small gasp.

"Stork…?" Jasmine said in concern.

"Do you remember," Stork asked in a low tone, "how you met me?"

Jasmine and Katara shrugged at each other, neither having been there.

"Yeah," Sora said casually. "You were about to jump off the edge of the Terra, but we swooped in and saved you!"

"OH, NO," Papyrus realized. "STORK…YOU DON'T MEAN…"

"Cyclonis had a squad called the Raptors," Stork began to explain. "They were hired to blow up the Condor while we were in it, but they were stupid, and they just blew up the ship when we outside of it. All of us were okay. Physically. But losing that ship…it was the first time, for me. That ship was the only thing that got me through those ten years after I lost my birth family. That ship was my home. That ship meant EVERYTHING to me. I thought without it, I had nothing to live for.

"We all got split up after that. We agreed to meet up at a rendez-vous point. I never planned to make it there. I ended up on Terra Bogaton, home of the Raptors. I hunted down every single one of them, and I…well…this is probably the part where you hate me. I made sure none of them would ever destroy anything meaningful again. Permanently."

"You killed them all," Ruby said in a loud whisper.

"When I challenged their leader, Repton," Stork went on, "I told him the truth. That without the Condor, I didn't see any reason to go on. The only thing I wanted to do was bring him down with me. We fought, and he said I could just rebuild the ship. And that whole time, that just never occurred to me. I started to see a new possibility. A new reason to live. I tried to save Repton, but he went over the edge of his Terra. Then I went back to the others. But I never told them. I never told them that the whole time they were there, waiting for me, I was just going to let them keep on waiting until they found out…I don't even know how they would have found out. I didn't even think about them or that they'd be waiting for me. But when I showed up, they were all so worried about me, and I just couldn't tell them the truth!

"So, no. Ruby, you're fine. You left your family behind so you could protect them. And Sora, you're fine. You always meant to come back to your parents someday. But I almost left my entire family forever and let them wonder what happened to me. And I got a lot of blood on my hands in the process. No one innocent…" His thoughts wandered to Lugey. "No one TECHNICALLY innocent…but I still killed them. And to this day, Finn and the others don't know the truth." He exhaled deeply. "Now you do. And if you don't want me around anymore because of everything I did, then I completely get it. But if you do…I kept thinking about how Jasmine's mother left her, and I never want to do that to you. I never want to do that to anyone. Not again."

A long silence indicated Stork had finished speaking.

"WE DON'T HATE YOU," Papyrus replied to break it. "WE COULDN'T HATE YOU."

"You're our friend," Sora said reassuringly. "I've had a couple friends who did horrible things when they fell to the Darkness. But I know that doesn't make up who they are. About you killing everybody? I kinda figured you might've done something like that in the past. And I've killed people, too. People who were hurting other people and ruining the worlds. That's what the Raptors were doing."

"There was one," Stork said in a trembling voice. "He was just going along with what the others said. He wasn't as bad. But I still…I still…" He choked on his words. "Never…again. Not anyone who doesn't deserve it."

"I believe you," Ruby told him.

"But the others," Stork insisted. "They had already killed so many and ruined so many lives. They were going to help Cyclonia retake Atmos and destroy it."

"And that's what counts," Sora told him. "But even if there was one who didn't deserve what happened…well…we know you. We trust you."

"And we love you," Ruby added.

"YOU'RE A VERY GOOD PERSON," Papyrus chimed in. "WE WON'T GIVE UP ON YOU!"

"I know we only just met," Katara brought up, "but the way you wanted to save us and get us to safety after the Fire Nation invasion said a lot about you."

"Now, about that other thing," Jasmine brought up. "It's always heartbreaking to lose someone that way. We're all glad you didn't go through with it, and I know the Storm Hawks are too. I can understand why you felt the way you did, though. We can't hate you for that either."

"This isn't that ship, right?" Katara asked for clarification. "Where's that ship now?"

"Back home," Stork told her. "It's been rebuilt twice now. Piper is watching over it while she looks for the others. I trust her with it."

"It was destroyed and rebuilt TWICE?" Katara pointed out. "That's amazing! Look how far you've come! And now, you're trusting it to somebody else and keeping on going!"

"Sometimes, I wonder how she's doing," Stork admitted. "The Condor, not Piper. Well, Piper, too. But now I know if something happens to the Condor, it's not necessarily the end of the world. If something happened to the other Storm Hawks, though, and something DID – "

"WE ALREADY KNOW THREE OF THEM ARE ALIVE," Papyrus reminded him. "THAT JUST LEAVES TWO MORE!"  
"Don't say three out of five isn't bad," Stork sighed.

"I'M NOT SAYING THAT," Papyrus huffed. "I'M SAYING WE'LL PROBABLY FIND OUT VERY SOON THAT THE OTHER TWO ARE ALSO ALIVE!"

"I'm actually starting to believe you," Stork admitted.

"Stork," Jasmine said gently, "if you ever feel like that again, like there's nothing to live for, don't be afraid to come to us about it. We'll do our best to help you."

"WE'LL FIND A NEW REASON FOR YOU!" Papyrus insisted.

"Or just listen if you need to talk," Ruby promised.

"You're all…" Stork blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the water that was building up beneath his lids. "You're too good. All of you. Better than I could have asked for. For that, I'm going to protect you from everything I can. I hope I can do for you half of what you do for me. Even if you get on my nerves sometimes."

"It's not about keeping a tally of who does what," Sora said with a smile. "It's just about being there for each other."

"And we each do that in our own way," Jasmine added.

Stork smiled. One lone teardrop left a watery trail down the side of his face. "Let's not talk about this anymore. Let's go back to telling Katara about Radiant Garden."

Katara felt at peace. Having just witnessed what she did, she felt that if everyone at Radiant Garden shared the same kind of bonds as the group aboard her current ship, she would feel perfectly at home.

...

Another Gummi ship approached Radiant Garden from the opposite direction, this one in much higher spirits.

"I'm glad it turned out we didn't really hate each other," Chip sighed.

"We should've seen through it right from the start," Nora said with a nod.

"We…really don't hate each other, do we?" Moana wondered out loud. "I mean, we know that all the stuff we heard was fake, but we weren't thinking it, were we?"

"You know what I think we should do?" Kairi suggested. "I think we should use this time to say nice things about each other."

"Okay!" Nora agreed. "I'll start. Moana? It really wouldn't matter if you were the chosen one or not, because you're so strong and capable, you can do whatever you want! You could just go out there and save the world whenever you felt like it, and you'd rock it!"

Moana found herself smiling. "Nora," she replied, "you are weird, but in a way that makes everyone smile. You're also really tough."

"Luna," Jaune said, "sometimes I think about just how much you have to handle, having the entire moon of your world under control, and it just wows me. You're just so elegant and amazing."

"And you have a good heart, Jaune," Luna replied. "You care about your friends deeply enough to sacrifice part of your own Aura to give to another."

"Aladdin," Nick said, "you're a really smart guy. You can think your way out of a lot of situations."

"Hey, thanks, Nick," Aladdin replied. "And you're a brave guy. You have a good sense of right and wrong."

"Genie," Madison said, "you always know how to make everything more fun. Your energy is really contagious."

"And your kindness is just as infectious!" Genie told Madison. "It's what helps you win the fight when it counts!"

"Sadira," Vida said, "you're a good friend with a lot of magical talent."

"And you're a great pal who knows how to rock out," Sadira replied.

"Carpet," Chip said, "you're always there when we need you. I know we can always count on you!"

Carpet gave Chip a thumbs-up.

"And Riku," Chip went on, "I know you've had a bad past, but you always do the right thing, and you're not afraid to stand up for it! And Kairi! You're just really sweet, and you're doing great taking charge!"

"You're another one of those who makes people smile, Chip," Riku said, a soft grin overtaking him. "You're a friend people can count on."

"I agree with everything everyone said," Kairi stated decisively. "I'm so glad I know all of you."

"I just want to add one thing," Jaune contributed. "Kairi…I think you're one of the absolute kindest people I've ever met. I'd trust you with my life."

"And I'd trust you with mine, Jaune," Kairi replied. "You're so full of heart, and you care about everyone."

"And we can't forget the people who aren't here!" Nora insisted. "Ren, Ruby, Cadance, Xander, Sora, Papyrus, Jasmine, and Stork. They're great too!"

"We'll have to be sure and tell them when we all meet up," Kairi resolved.

...

Around the time that Scar and Harley were lugging Joker down to where Grimhilde and Ursula were prepping their laboratory space to heal him, Facilier and Zhao knelt before Maleficent herself, both the very picture of composure despite the rapid rates of their heartbeats, Facilier's much more so than Zhao's. Hades, Cruella, and Jafar stood behind as a watching audience.

"The two of you conquered the heart of the Fire Nation," Maleficent stated. "And yet it was lost."

"Through no fault of our own!" Facilier said, his desperation starting to leak out through his voice.

"And I am to understand that you very nearly prevented Mozenrath's companions from repairing his condition," Maleficent went on, "but when you saw him again at the North Pole, he was standing on two feet once more."

"Nobody expected the Avatar to save the souls of murderers!" Zhao protested.

"And besides," Facilier argued, "standin' on two feet don't mean healthy. He could still be dyin'!"

"A brief search from Grimhilde will prove whether or not he yet lives," Maleficent reminded Facilier. "You have both aimed for lofty goals, and yet you have failed to bring me anything of worth."

Facilier cringed. It was back to the pit of souls for him, he feared. Or perhaps something worse, something he couldn't even imagine.

"And yet…" Maleficent's mouth tilted upward into a smirk. "You did indeed achieve both of your goals for quite some time. Were it not for Ozai's foolishness and arrogance, the Fire Nation would be under my command through him. And knowing that the Keybearer was involved in their release, I can only congratulate you for managing to capture the souls of Mozenrath's companions at all. Yes, I do believe both of you will be of great use to me, especially Dr. Facilier. The solstice notwithstanding, your prowess commanding the Heartless was remarkable indeed. You may both make your homes here. Perhaps with your skill and intellect, we may yet recapture what we have lost."

"You got my thanks for your mercy," Facilier told her.

"We shall continue to conquer in your name," Zhao promised, "until we have established an empire with an infinite reach."

"You may both rise," Maleficent informed them. "See to whatever duties you must, as I shall see to mine."

Facilier and Zhao both stood to full height, turning to leave the chamber. On their way, they passed the trio that had observed.

Hades extended a hand to Facilier. "Welcome onboard, Shadow Man," he said with a toothy grin. "Gotta say, from what you said about all that stuff you did, I like your style. Somethin' tells me we're gonna be good friends, you and me."

Facilier clasped and shook Hades' hand. "Good thing neither of us promised the other anythin'. Shakin' hands with you is an even worse idea than shakin' hands with me."

Their eyes met, and a certain understanding passed between them.

"You interest me, firebender," Jafar told Zhao. "I do hope for your sake that you are as talented as you seem."

"I'm that and more," Zhao said with a smirk of his own.

Zhao and Facilier took their leave, and Jafar, Cruella, and Hades moved in closer to Maleficent. "So, Mal," Hades began, "what's our next move?"

"Do you expect us to keep gaining and losing and gaining and losing?" Cruella asked in frustration.

"Not at all," Maleficent told her. "I believe the time has come for a test of sorts. We have powerful magic at our disposal, and we must make sure it can achieve what we wish before we put it to work. Should all go well, I believe we are on the path to discovering the true location of the Book of Prophecies."

"You have our interest," Jafar stated.

Maleficent began to explain, outlining her scheme. After some time, Ursula and Grimhilde joined the group, having finished restoring Joker's health. The six entered a deep discussion, and it was in the midst of their plotting that Edgar rapped upon the door.

"There is a visitor at the gates," Edgar announced. "He wishes to see you."

"Upon what grounds?" Maleficent said sharply.

Edgar simply told her his name, and she brushed past him, stalking her way to the gates to greet the visitor.

She could tell he was a Nobody from the moment she lay eyes on him. From his long, dark hair to his sparkling eyes, he was impossible not to recognize. "I see fate has brought you here," Maleficent told him.

"So it has," he agreed. "I am told you are the one I have been fated to ally with from the beginning."

"I do believe you can help our cause achieve great things," Maleficent replied. "Provided, of course, that you do not act so foolishly as you did when you were whole. The next time, there will be no one to save you."

"I understand," the man growled.

"In that case," Maleficent said, "welcome to our stronghold, Ozai."

...

Mozenrath and Yzma met up with Scarlet at about the same time that Wuya did. The three founding members of the WHAM ARMY spent some time interrogating Scarlet about her past while seated in an upstairs conference room, and they found themselves more than satisfied with her persona and résumé. The topic of conversation eventually shifted to more casual affairs, which, to Mozenrath, meant more boring ones.

"And people keep saying dressing like I do isn't PRACTICAL to committing bank robberies," Scarlet laughed. "I think everyone just wants to get me into a black skin-tight catsuit. Not that I don't think I'd look good in one. But I've never once had to throw a mission because my skirt caught on something or my heels put me off balance. Sure, I have to adjust my bodice every now and again, because, well, you know how straplesses are, but if you can't look good while committing villainy, what's the point?"

"Exactly!" Yzma agreed. "I always was a fan of the back decoration look. Sort of a peacock-tail effect with a large fan. It makes the peasantry all the more intimdated by you when you wear it."

"Image is about fifty percent of the villain game," Wuya said with a nod. "I tend to stick with black since it doesn't clash with anything, but every other ensemble I've employed has been perfectly coordinated. Because if you show up to spread Darkness and you don't look the part, who's going to take you seriously?"

"Nobody's going to take you seriously if you keep up this girl talk," Mozenrath muttered.

"WHAT was that?" Scarlet snapped, leaning forward in her seat. "You know, I have half a mind to smack you, but you're my boss, so of course I'm not going to do that."

"No, go ahead," Wuya encouraged. "We get to do that whenever he makes a sexist comment. You'd think he'd learn."

Scarlet rose from her seat, took two strides toward Mozenrath, and slapped him across the face. "I went easy on him," she said as she returned to her chair.

"THAT was going EASY on me?" Mozenrath grumbled as he gently touched his fingers to the now throbbing pain in his face.

"Besides," Wuya went on, "it's not like we don't know how much time you spent on THAT look, Mozenrath."

"I'm a conquering lord," Mozenrath muttered as he prodded his face. "I have to look like one. But I didn't spend hours coordinating this outfit."

"Really?" Yzma sighed. "You're really going to pull that one on us? I suppose you magically pulled that entire thing out of a broom closet in the Black Sands, trim and all, and it fit perfectly."

"Maybe I did," Mozenrath argued.

"You're just as much of a fashion victim as everyone else at this table," Scarlet accused.

"Victim?" Wuya repeated. "Oh, no, I'm no VICTIM. I'm a fashion PERPETRATOR."

"What does that even mean?" Mozenrath groaned.

"Uh…yeah, not sure what that means," Scarlet affirmed.

"Isn't it obvious?" Yzma answered for Wuya. "We wear what we wear well and watch as it becomes the trend."

"I couldn't have put it better," Wuya stated.

"Well," Mozenrath relented, "when you put it THAT way, I suppose that COULD be applicable to my situation…"

"Come on," Scarlet egged on, "say it. You're all about image…as much as the rest of us 'girls.'"

"I'm not saying that," Mozenrath spat.

"I want to hear this," Wuya said, scooting slightly forward in her chair in mock anticipation.

"We're not leaving this table unless you say it," Yzma resolved, "or something better comes along to divert our attention."

Mozenrath grit his teeth, quite averse to just admitting that Yzma, Wuya, and Scarlet had a point about him. Before he could say anything else, Snatcher strode into the room.

"There you are, Mrs. Overkill!" he greeted. "I've been seeking you all over. I had so wanted to resolve our little debate, which we never did get the chance to settle when we met."

"What debate?" Scarlet was confused.

"Why, which of us is truly the more skilled on the dancefloor," Snatcher said slyly.

Yzma looked to Wuya. "I think this counts as a better diversion."

"You're not wrong," Wuya responded. Then, to Snatcher and Scarlet, "If you're going to have a proper dance-off, you'll need a DJ."

"And that's where you come in?" Snatcher asked.

"Precisely." Wuya grinned toothily. "Meet you in the karaoke room?"

"There's a karaoke room?" Scarlet realized.

"An informal one," Wuya told her. "We set up one of the larger halls with a sound system for any music-related performance art you can name."

"And it's far enough away from my room that I actually can't hear the noise when I'm trying to concentrate!" Mozenrath said gleefully.

"Are you just a killjoy about everything?" Scarlet asked snidely.

"I'm not a killjoy," Mozenrath grunted.

"You think fashion is 'girl talk,' you want to shut yourself away from karaoke…" Scarlet ticked off. "That's pretty killjoy to me."

"I am NOT a killjoy and I'll PROVE it," Mozenrath snarled. "I'll be the judge of which of you is the better dancer. Killjoys wouldn't do that."

"He'll be ONE judge," Yzma broke in. "I'll be another."

"I can judge and DJ at the same time," Wuya volunteered.

Scarlet stood and stared Snatcher down. "Let's do this."

"I must warn you, Mrs. Overkill," Snatcher replied, "I only suggested this challenge so you would know exactly how much you were playing with fire when you first proposed the idea."

The quintet made their way to the karaoke room: a spacious hallway with a speaker-laden stage at one end and a scattering of tables at the other, with space cleared to dance in between. Garfield, Roman, and Demyx were already there, comparing the results of their heists at one of the back tables.

"I'm wearing it right now," Roman said as he held out one of Wuya's precious eyeliner pencils, "and she doesn't even know."

"You still think THAT was hard?" Garfield sniffed, twirling a small flask idly on the tabletop. "If Iceman had been a little less focused on what he was doing, I'd have frostbite in all four limbs right now."

"So, yeah, here's the thing," Demyx offered. "I thought about the challenge you gave me, and I didn't feel like doing it, so I didn't."

"Seriously?" Roman snapped. "I might get it if you were chicken, but you ASKED for an impossible challenge."

"I wanted one," Demyx related, "but then I thought about it, and…nah. Too much work."

"Did you steal ANYTHING that belonged to Righty?" Roman urged.

"No," Demyx replied. "Didn't feel like it."

"I guess we split the title," Garfield told Roman.

"Yeah," Roman agreed. Then, to Demyx: "You kinda suck."

"Hey!" Demyx snapped.

Once Mozenrath, Wuya, Yzma, Scarlet, and Snatcher entered the room, Roman quickly pocketed the eyeliner pencil to keep it from being recognized. "What's all this?" he asked.

"Mr. Snatcher and I are settling which one of us is the better dancer," Scarlet informed the thieving trio.

"Oof," Roman replied. "I hate to tell ya, Strawberry Punch, but you already lost this competition."

"You don't know that yet!" Scarlet argued.

Wuya took her place up on the stage, settling in behind a turntable. "I think I have the perfect song for this occasion," she announced over a microphone settled over her head.

She flicked a switch. The song from the juice bar began to blast loudly from the speakers.

"NO," Scarlet and Snatcher barked in unison.

Wuya cackled to herself at her little joke; Scarlet had informed her of how Roman, Herb, and Neo had made a complete nuisance of that song. She briefly contemplated switching it to "Cruel World" to get a reaction out of Mozenrath, but ultimately settled on playing a song with a better beat and a more mellow tone.

Mozenrath and Yzma backed off, letting Scarlet and Snatcher stride into the center of the floor, locking eyes with each other to visually dare each other to outperform. At the same moment, they both synchronized their movements to the beat, sliding across the floor with grace, swaying and spinning as their improvisational instincts took them.

It wasn't easy to declare a clear victor. While Snatcher and Scarlet's styles differed, having been tempered by the trends of the times they grew up in, they shared a common grace and energy. As they danced, they flashed each other coy looks, each believing to be leagues ahead of the other.

"Have I mentioned how sexy he is?" Roman asked as he, Demyx, and Garfield moved up next to Mozenrath and Yzma to better observe the competition.

"At least twenty times too many," Mozenrath replied dryly.

"This needs to be immortalized," Roman realized. "Hang on. I'm recording this." He reached into his pocket for his scroll only to find it gone. He patted down every inch of his clothing, searching for the device. "Hey, Gar," he said, figuring he had left the scroll in his room. "Let me borrow your scroll."

"Sure thing." Garfield began to rummage through his own pockets. "Just…give me a minute to find it. I know I had it on me earlier…"

"Hey, guys?" Demyx broke in. "I didn't really feel like taking anything from the new boss, but you know what I did feel like doing?"

Garfield and Roman turned to see Demyx holding their scrolls out to them.

"Making you guys look like chumps," Demyx said with a grin.

"You REALLY suck," Roman grunted as he swiped his scroll back in hand.

"No arguments here," Garfield added as he reclaimed his own device.

"What, no brownie points for being creative?" Demyx asked. He was ignored.

Roman filmed Snatcher and Scarlet's dance for a while as Mozenrath and Yzma observed carefully, waiting for the defining criterion that would set one above the other. After about thirty seconds, Roman pocketed the scroll. "Fuck it," he said. "I'm getting in on this."

He jaunted onto the dancefloor, catching Snatcher's eye. Snatcher paused to extend a hand; as soon as Roman took it, the two began to move in symbiosis.

"Looks like fun," Demyx remarked. He stepped out onto the floor himself, offering a hand to Scarlet; "Can I cut in?"

"Sure!" Scarlet answered, seizing his hand and pulling him into her dance. It soon became apparent that Demyx was quite skilled at dancing himself, and he was easily able to keep up with Scarlet's pace.

Wuya, reading the mood, snapped her fingers, letting a disco ball appear on the ceiling. All the lights in the room were doused but for a pair of strobes and a line of multicolored spotlights that flickered back and forth across the floor.

"NOW we're talkin'!" Demyx cried as he dipped Scarlet low; when she stood, she spun him and returned the favor.

"Eh, might as well." Yzma began to stroll onto the dancefloor with a shrug.

"We're supposed to be judging, remember?" Mozenrath told her.

"Well, I'm judging that I'm every bit as good as those four, and I need to show it off!" Yzma called back to him. "You can join me when you're done being a killjoy."

"I AM NOT A KILLJOY!"

"THEN DANCE WITH ME!"

"I DON'T WANT TO!"

Wuya levitated down from the stage, settling gently in front of Yzma. "I heard you were looking for a non-killjoy to dance with," she said coyly.

"I was also looking for someone who can keep up with me," Yzma teased.

"Try me," Wuya dared.

They stepped around each other, bouncing to the beat. Their footwork became more intricate as Wuya's bare toes teased around Yzma's high-heeled shoes.

Watching the three couples out on the floor, Mozenrath felt a surge of energy bubble up within him. The lighting and the music worked together to create an atmosphere that gave him the feeling he should be doing something about it. He had very good reasons for refusing the dance, but perhaps, just this once, it would be all right. After all, he had a lot to celebrate. He had his memory back, he had the Huntsman back (where had that man been all this time, anyway?), and he was close to completing the spell that would give him universal domination. He wanted to abandon his inhibitions. There was the matter of the other six dancers, but they were in pairs, and each half of the pair was focused on the other half. No one would notice him.

He took a tentative step out onto the dancefloor, then another. Staying at the edge of the lights, he began to move, kicking and bouncing.

Garfield, whom Mozenrath had completely forgotten about, gaped as he watched. He slowly put up his scroll to record the scene.

The lights reflected rainbow flecks off the disco ball, painting the entirety of the dancers in half-shadow and half-brilliance. If he hadn't found Roman handsome before, Snatcher thought, he would most certainly be completely won over now, watching him groove beneath the lights. Roman was starstruck by his own dance partner, watching Snatcher absolutely exude energy in a way he couldn't tear his eyes away from. This was Scarlet's first introduction to Demyx, but she couldn't see how anyone who danced with her the way he did could be any less than a good friend. Demyx was awed by Scarlet's skill as well; he was having more than enough fun with her to take his mind off the resentment that had been festering deep down at the people who'd forced him into this alliance and done nothing but mock him. Yzma was wonderstruck by Wuya's grace, noticing things about her, the curve of her smile, the flip of her hair, that Yzma hadn't really seen before. And likewise, Wuya found a new appreciation for the way Yzma moved in this light, thinking not just of the way she danced, but the way she carried herself on a daily basis.

But on one spin, Roman caught a glimpse of Mozenrath, and he halted dead in his tracks. Snatcher was forced to stop as well to see why Roman had done so. Once she noticed Snatcher had stopped, Scarlet brought her own dance to an end, causing Demyx to nearly trip over his own feet when she was no longer moving. Yzma turned to see what all the fuss was about, and her jaw dropped as her feet slowed. Wuya was the last to stop, all too entertained by what she was looking at.

Mozenrath was an incredibly terrible dancer. He had only the most basic grasp of the rhythm of the song and no idea of how to move gracefully to it. To say he looked awkward would be putting it mildly. He swung his limbs in a way he thought felt right, but even he knew he wasn't sure. His feet barely left the same three-foot radius, but when they moved, he stumbled slightly before catching himself and continuing once more. He kept going for about a minute more after being noticed, having too much fun with himself to pay attention to his surroundings. He then realized that he was the only one still moving at all, and he brought himself to a sudden halt, looking to Scarlet, Snatcher, Demyx, Roman, Yzma, and Wuya in a panic.

And those six, with the addition of Garfield, broke out into loud, raucous laughter.

"THIS is why you don't dance?" Yzma crowed.

"You're TERRIBLE!" Roman guffawed. "You fucking SUCK!"

Mozenrath flushed, embarrassment washing over him as his friends lobbied insults. He was ready to let it explode in the form of anger. But the music was still playing, the lights were still flashing, and with the exception of Demyx, these people were still his friends. A sudden and unexpected calm washed over Mozenrath, and he said coolly, "I don't know what you're talking about. I can dance. Just about as well as Roman can sing."

"Was…that a JOKE?" Roman said in awe. "Did you just make a JOKE?"

"He finally grew a sense of humor," Wuya commented.

"Well, it was either make a joke or throw you all in the dungeons for laughing at me," Mozenrath said with a shrug, "and I went with the one that was less work."

"Forget about it!" Scarlet encouraged. "Everyone's having fun! Let's just keep dancing!" She beckoned to Garfield. "Get out here and dance with us!"

"Nah," Garfield replied. "I actually DON'T dance. Besides, SOMEBODY needs to record this to show off to everyone else later." What he didn't want to admit was that as objectively bad as he knew Mozenrath to be at dancing, Garfield himself was even worse at the art. The moment he attempted to work the floor, he would become everyone's new target.

The others shrugged him off and returned to their dance, letting Mozenrath continue to flail as bizarrely as made his heart content.

After a while, Mozenrath tired out, moving back to sit at one of the tables. Demyx ran out of energy not long after. Scarlet only went on for a little bit without her partner. Yzma, Snatcher, Roman, and Wuya felt the drain in sequence, making their departure one by one. Wuya flicked her wrist, turning on the main lights, dousing the strobes, and shutting off the music.

"Well?" Snatcher asked once the group was seated around the same table. "Is there a verdict?"

"I'm voting for myself," Yzma announced.

"I was better than you," Wuya argued, "and you know it."

"Oh, no, you weren't!" Yzma retorted.

"Archie totally had this in the bag," Roman tossed in.

"I dunno," Demyx replied. "Scarlet was actually able to keep up with me, and…actually, I'm voting for me."

"I still think I dominated," Scarlet boasted.

"Far less than I," Snatcher countered. "And I'm the only one who currently has multiple votes."

All eyes went to Mozenrath and Garfield.

"You've got moves," Garfield admitted. "All of you. But if Peter were here, he'd want me to give my vote to Scarlet just to even it out and make trouble. So that's what I'm doing."

"Lord Mozenrath," Snatcher pleaded, "think of all we've been through together. We broke loose of the Underworld together! We're Penelope Frou Frou and Brandisia Black!"

"He has a point," Mozenrath said with a smirk. "He also has my vote."

"And that settles that!" Snatcher declared, pounding his fist on the table. "I reign supreme!"

"Though I think we can ALL agree that Mozenrath is the WORST dancer here," Demyx laughed.

Garfield giggled nervously, drawing stares. Everyone shrugged it off.

"Well, it's been fun…" Mozenrath stated. "No, really, it's been strangely fun. But I think we all have work to do."

"Quite so," Snatcher affirmed. "I actually had a favor to ask of Torchwick and Mr. Lynns."

"Yeah?" Garfield and Roman said as one.

"I shall explain the details later," Snatcher clarified.

Mozenrath rose. "I'll see you later to talk business," he said before stalking out of the room.

Most everyone else went their separate ways. Mozenrath was, however, made aware of quick footsteps rushing to catch up with him.

"Hey!" Demyx greeted as he fell in step next to Mozenrath.

"…Hello?" Mozenrath replied, confused and already a little miffed.

"So I'm curious," Demyx said. "I know we got off on the wrong foot."

Not that we ever got onto the right one, each thought to himself.

"And I didn't really take you seriously," Demyx went on. "But is that something that happens to you a lot? That people don't take you seriously because of how young you are? Or how bad of a dancer? Though I'm sure that second one doesn't come up a lot."

"Admittedly, yes," Mozenrath answered. "By most people outside my circle, in fact. My brother, who is YOUNGER THAN ME, didn't believe I was the lord of my own empire. And if I'd cut a more impressive figure with a few more years under my belt, I'm sure my interruption of Maleficent would have gone a little differently. Not that I'm not glad it went the way it did. I have it better than she ever will. But the only reason my current most persistent nemesis gives me any respect at all is because he's around twelve." No, he didn't know how old Sora really was, nor did he care.

"Gotcha," Demyx said with a nod. "See, I kinda get it. Nobody ever took me seriously either. Not in life before the Organization, not in the Organization…and I didn't really talk to people between the Organization and you, but I still don't think anybody would have taken me seriously. I know you still don't."

"Well, your powers are fairly impressive," Mozenrath replied. "Your general attitude makes me want to throw you into interspace without a lifeline, but you are magically strong. Were I less powerful and intelligent, I might fear you. But I'm not, so I don't."

"Trust me," Demyx said, "I know there's a good reason you're in charge around here. I'm not here to pick a fight. I was just curious, that's all. If you got it. Because I get it."

"Maybe there is something about you I can understand," Mozenrath admitted.

"Same."

They walked together in silence before Demyx, realizing he'd worn out his only discussion topic once he'd gotten his curiosity satisfied, groaned, "Okay, this is awkward."

"And I have somewhere to be where I would really rather not be followed," Mozenrath grunted.

"I follow!" Demyx said with a nod. "Which is why I'm not going to follow!" He darted down a side hallway.

Mozenrath watched his departure for a moment before shrugging it off and turning his thoughts toward other things. Namely, the fact that he was thoroughly bamboozled by the Huntsman's disappearance, and he wanted to pay him a visit under the new context of their rekindled relationship.

...

Within the deepest forest of Terra Gruesomeus, Dilan ran a stone along the blade of his lance, keeping it sharp. Sparks flew up as the metal roughly kissed the rock.

One lance would not be enough, Dilan thought to himself. It hadn't been so ever since he had taken it up in the service of Radiant Garden. His first order of business now that he was operating on his own was to obtain five more. That would be the proper amount.

...

Rémington laid the last of the blueprints out over Terminus' counter as Terminus and Hoagy looked on in awe. "And this is for a gun that shoots actual lava," Rémington explained.

No, they weren't the originals. Rémington had found a copier on the warship and made duplicates of each print so the originals could make their way back to Herb's table later. There would be less suspicion that way.

"A thermal marvel!" Terminus remarked. "Where did you come by such things?"

"You've never needed to know before," Rémington answered, "and you don't need to know now. So about my payment…?"

"Of course!" Terminus said enthusiastically. "Hoagy, I'd say he deserves a little bonus for this, wouldn't you?"

"Well," Hoagy said tentatively, "the Hypno-Hat is a little silly. But the lava gun is something special!"

The pair rummaged about and dug up a fat purse to hand over to Rémington.

"When can we expect your next delivery?" Terminus asked.

"Don't worry about that," Rémington commanded. "Just worry about putting together the things in the blueprints."

He turned and stalked away from the counter and out of the shop. His next destination was whatever town had a good shop for purchasing long, black capes.

Once Rémington had gone, Terminus spread out the blueprints across the counter. "Which shall we begin production on first?" he wondered out loud. "Oh, like it's going to be anything but the lava gun."

"I'll start pullin' stuff together!" Hoagy said with enthusiasm.

The back door opened and shut, and given the timing, Terminus and Hoagy knew exactly who it was. "There you are, Harley!" Terminus greeted without looking up. "We've just gotten a new shipment of schematics in, and there's much work to be done! You'd better be up for a challenge today."

He just received a weak "Okay" and a sniffle in response.

Terminus and Hoagy looked, curiously, toward Harley. She was out of costume, out of makeup, just clad in a loose pink shirt and jeans, blonde hair flowing long. A deep, dark black eye stood out starkly against the rest of her pale face, and it was the only one of her multitude of bruises that Terminus and Hoagy could see. As she met their gazes, she tried to hold back, act as though everything were normal, but she found the task impossible, and soon the tears streamed down her face.

"…Actually," Terminus said softly, "forget the schematics. Come on, sit." He pulled a chair over toward Harley. "Hoagy, get her a cup of tea." As Hoagy followed the command, Terminus lightly brushed his hands over Harley's upper arms, physically directing her down into the chair. "There, that's it, sit down. Now tell us all about it."

...

The Huntsman had contemplated reading, or drinking, or doing anything at all, but instead had passed the time by simply letting his emotions percolate. When Mozenrath appeared in his kitchen, he was hunched over the counter, cape and helmet set aside for the sake of comfort.

"Knock first," he growled at Mozenrath.

"And here I thought you'd be happy to see me," Mozenrath said coyly, leaning over the counter, elbows on the hard surface. "I haven't seen you since we got back, after all, and it's about now that we should probably be deciding whether we're going to stay in your quarters or mine."

"We will each stay in our own quarters," the Huntsman said with a deadly edge.

"All right, we're taking it slow," Mozenrath interpreted. "I can respect that. After all, we're a cut above the likes of Mim and Aghoul – "

"You don't understand, do you?" The Huntsman slammed his hands onto the table and stood up. "This was a mistake."

Mozenrath flinched. "You had better not mean what I think you mean," he said, his own tone suddenly growing cold.

"Do you realize what happened?" the Huntsman reminded him. "It was due to your carelessness that I was unable to slay both of the dragons of the Sun Warrior civilization. And this is not the first time. I also lost the Grimm of Vale because of you."

"So I need to step up my dragon-slaying skills," Mozenrath said casually. "You still got to kill the red one."

"It was not enough," the Huntsman snarled. "I lost both the Grimm and the blue dragon because I chose you instead. It is exactly as Vexen warned, and I did not listen."

"What does VEXEN have to do with this?" Mozenrath asked, taken aback.

"Vexen warned that should I grow romantically attached to you," the Huntsman explained, "I would lose sight of my own self and what was truly important to me. I am a dragon slayer. I was raised from birth to be a dragon slayer. And only now am I coming to realize that Vexen's warning has come true. I continue to choose you over the very goal I was bred to achieve. Slaying dragons is what I was meant for, and I routinely fail at it BECAUSE I CHOOSE YOU!"

"I'm sorry," Mozenrath snapped, "but are you seriously blaming me because you took something VEXEN said to heart? You know you're only repeating HIS words. When can I talk to the actual George Liu?"

"Just because the words did not come from me does not mean they are not true," the Huntsman clarified. "It took his words to awaken me. No, it took losing the blue dragon to awaken me. If I am to continue, I cannot hold onto the bond I have had with you. When the moment of truth arrives, I must not choose you again. I must make the correct choice."

"Are you saying you'd let me DIE?" Mozenrath said in awe and anger.

"If that is what it takes," the Huntsman said in a low, grating tone, his crimson eyes fixed directly upon Mozenrath's. "In order for me to make the right choice, I must redefine our relationship. We cannot exchange romantic favors. No more revelations. No more kisses. At least it did not get any more intimate."

Mozenrath felt as though he had only just become immersed in something that felt wonderful as it soaked into his skin, but all of a sudden, he was forcibly dried of it. As a result, a deluge of emotion rushed in to replace it. "You're BREAKING UP WITH ME? You can't DO THIS!"

"You may command my actions on the field," the Huntsman told Mozenrath coldly, "but you cannot command me to rescind my decision about this. And to the point, I am doing more than breaking up with you. I am your ally and I shall fight alongside you in our quest for domination. But I am no longer your friend. You will recall, of course, that the last time I put my trust in someone, it led to my demise."

"And you'll recall that said demise wasn't permanent because of ME," Mozenrath argued. "Besides, she was a pawn! You never trusted her with what you trusted me with! Or am I just a tool to you too?"

"Not a tool," the Huntsman clarified. "An associate."

Mozenrath slammed his right fist into the counter, charged with magic; it cracked the surface. "We were in this together! Do you know how many walls I brought down to let you in? Do you know what you DID to me? You changed me in a way I can never come back from, and now you're taking it all back! I was ECSTATIC to be able to be close to you again! I forgot all about what I felt for you, and the moment I feel it again, you decide to take it away from me! I would have chosen to save you a THOUSAND times – "

"If it came down to being between me and your dream of conquest?" the Huntsman prodded.

"I could have both," Mozenrath insisted. "I could ALWAYS have both."

"If you believe that, then you're more short-sighted than I thought!" the Huntsman argued. "There will come a day when you will have to choose!"

"I'm not short-sighted," Mozenrath growled. "I'm determined. I've come this far on raw determination, and I don't think it's going to start failing me now. The only thing that's failing me is you. For the last time, stop telling me Vexen's words. Tell me yours."

"These are my words," the Huntsman insisted.

"And stop comparing me to the girl."

"Even factoring her out of the equation," the Huntsman emphasized, "the path I must take is clear. Our relationship, as of now, is strictly professional."

"After all you did," Mozenrath said in awe, shaking his head. "After you turned me into the kind of person who would actually care. I can never forgive you for that."

"Then change back into the kind of person who wouldn't," the Huntsman advised.

Mozenrath grit his teeth. "It's not that easy."

"It will be for me."

"What are you going to tell the others? Are you going to stop being friends with them too?"

"I am," the Huntsman confirmed. "I had planned to tell you all at once, but you intruded upon me after I requested to be alone."

"I won't speak for them," Mozenrath said, "but I think you know how they're going to take this."

"They will take this like adults," the Huntsman stated. "I had thought you would have the good sense to, but I was wrong."

Mozenrath shuddered. "You…you…I COULD HAVE YOU PUNISHED FOR THIS! I COULD HAVE YOU THROWN IN THE DUNGEON AND FIND A NEW WAY TO TORTURE YOU EVERY DAY!"

"But will you?" the Huntsman asked, his gaze piercing right through Mozenrath.

He had Mozenrath's wings pinned, and Mozenrath knew it. "…No."

"I suggest you leave and work out the remainder of your emotions in private," the Huntsman told him. "You will get no more from me."

Mozenrath simply stood still, his entire body trembling.

The Huntsman was grateful the young sorcerer had waited, for he had one more thing to say. "Also, you are no longer to refer to me by my given name. I am the Huntsman to you. That should properly define my position in regards to you."

Without any further word, Mozenrath vanished. He had no desire for the Huntsman to see his further reaction.

The Huntsman told himself he had done the right thing. It would take some time for his heart to resign itself, he knew, but it was for the best.


	54. Bad Breakups

54\. Bad Breakups

When Vexen became aware of the presence of another living being at the opposite end of his lab table, he considered actively ignoring it. But, figuring it was one of his more respectable colleagues or superiors, he lifted his head to look the person in the eye.

Which turned out to be a mistake, as it was Demyx.

"What do YOU want?" Vexen snapped.

"I was just curious," Demyx began.

"If you're expecting me to explain to you everything you don't know," Vexen sighed, "you should be aware that there are some tasks even beyond my ability."

"How about you just explain ONE thing," Demyx proposed, "and we'll call it square?"

Vexen sighed. "What can I tell you?"

"Well," Demyx recalled, "back in Organization XIII, nobody ever seemed to like me. And nobody ever seemed to like you, either. So why weren't you nicer to me? We were both kinda the outcasts of the group. Shouldn't losers stick together?"

"The difference is that I was disliked because the others could not comprehend me or accept that I was right," Vexen told Demyx. "You were disliked because you are insufferable by nature. If you are looking to ally yourself with outcasts and incompetents, I suggest you turn away from me and look within these walls. You are bound to find at least one who will suit you for company."

"I just thought that maybe, since we both actually understood where we came from before this, we might have some kind of, I dunno, brotherhood thing," Demyx suggested.

"Your reasoning has led you false," Vexen said sharply.

Demyx shrugged. "Thought I'd try, anyway." He set a small flask on the table. "By the way, I have it on very good authority that Garfield Lynns took this from you."

Vexen wasn't sure whether or not to believe him; Demyx had a tendency to pass the blame onto other people to cover for his wrongdoings. Then again, Garfield was the sort who would swipe something from Vexen for fun. Vexen simply clutched the flask, bringing it closer to himself protectively.

"See ya," Demyx said as he turned and strode away.

"Man, that was cold," Herb said from his own table, where he was tightening screws on an incomprehensible device.

"Certain elements are not meant to mix," Vexen said haughtily. "Such as that which composes me and that which composes him."

"Do you actually like anyone here?" Herb wondered out loud.

"I have no heart," Vexen reminded him. "It is impossible for me to truly 'like.' I respect a great many people here. Mr. Snatcher, Mozenrath, the Huntsman, Xayide, Neopolitan…" The obvious answer lingered on his tongue for a moment.

"I heard through the grapevine you have a complicated relationship with the violin woman," Herb brought up.

Herb had been the one to say it out loud, Vexen thought, not Vexen himself. "She committed an error that caused me to reconsider my judgment. But before that, she was among those I respected most."

"What'd she do?"

"I would rather not discuss it."

"No, seriously. You brought it up, and now I gotta know."

Vexen sighed. "She undertook a mission she should not have. She interfered in a process I had completely under control."

"Yikes. Did she mess you up?"

"Technically, no…"

"Then what's the problem?"

"I don't think I need to explain further," Vexen said sharply before immersing himself once more in his work.

He was hiding something, Herb thought. A motivation he didn't want anyone to know. And as someone who'd only been his lab-mate for a short time, Herb knew he wasn't going to be the one to coax the answer out. He hoped Ravess could figure it out. He felt rather bad for her, knowing what he knew of her and Vexen's tiff.

Come to think of it, he felt a little bad for Demyx, too. No one in the WHAM ARMY seemed to have connected with him yet, and he seemed relatively harmless. Hopefully, Herb thought, Demyx could make some good friends soon.

Hopefully he would also find the blueprints for his old gadgets, which seemed to have disappeared. He moved a few tools aside and found them neatly stacked up on the side of the table, where he was sure he had looked several times already, but he shrugged it off.

...

When Sora, Riku, and Kairi reconvened in the Radiant Garden library, they needed quite some time to swap stories. Once they finished, all were rather awestruck.

"I'm glad everyone came out of your mission okay," Sora said in concern. "So Dilan's back to his old ways too."

"More and more of the Organization seem to be showing up," Riku observed. "Hopefully, we won't have to deal with the return of any more."

"Not Ienzo!" Kairi insisted. "Or Lea or Aeleus!"

"We have no reason not to trust any of them," Riku said firmly. "I'm more concerned about the ones we haven't heard from since their defeat. If Demyx showed up again, there might not be anything stopping Marluxia from coming back."

"That was one of the guys I forgot, right?" Sora inquired.

"Be glad you did," Riku told him. "Anyway, we're glad to hear you made it through your mission okay."

"It was nothing I couldn't handle!" Sora bragged. "Well, except for the endless parade of Heartless. But the rest of it? Piece of cake!"

"I'd love to be able to meet the other friends you made there someday," Kairi said.

Riku nodded. "Me too. Any friend of yours is a friend of mine."

"That makes almost everyone in existence your friend," Kairi laughed.

"Well, at least Xander, Ren, and Cadance had a good time," Sora said wistfully. "Things have been kinda hard on the rest of us. I know we're supposed to be going after Cinder Fall next, but I think we all just need to take a long break."

"I wouldn't mind a longer break than usual," Riku agreed. "There's danger all around, but if we don't take some time to lift our spirits, we'll be worse off."

"We'll run it by everyone else," Kairi agreed, "but I think we can stand to wait a little bit before we ask the hourglass for anything else."

"Sooooooo," Sora said, "what should we do in the meantime? Something fun?"

"I could go for some fun," Riku said with a nod.

"I think there's an old board for Command Capture somewhere around here," Kairi suggested, "if you're up for a game. Ienzo and I used to play all the time when we were younger."

"I think that's a great idea," Riku told her.

"We should see if anyone else wants in," Sora suggested. "I think I know just who to ask."

"You go do that," Kairi told Sora and Riku, "and I'll find that board."

Sora and Riku managed to round up three more players, one of whom insisted upon making unhealthy snacks for the occasion. Kairi located the board game, spreading it out on the floor of the library's lower level. When the six players arranged themselves around the board, Kairi took some time to explain how the game was played; the others caught on fast.

After a half hour had passed, Stork and Papyrus entered the library, in the midst of a conversation. "That would make being boiled alive my…thirty-second least favorite way I would ever want to be tortured," Stork mused.

"IT CERTAINLY DOESN'T SOUND PLEASANT," Papyrus agreed. "THOUGH I RATHER THOUGHT THAT – WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?"

He and Stork stopped in their tracks. Sora, Riku, Kairi, Ruby, Chip, and Vida lay sprawled around the game board. Several plates held the remains of the chocolate chip cookies Ruby had made, which had been mostly reduced to crumbs in the carpet and chocolate stains on napkins that were strewn about. Chip had thought to remove his shoes and socks for comfort, and the other five had followed suit, leaving said articles splayed across the room.

"I move forward two spaces," Kairi announced, "land on the prize cube, ride it for two more spaces, and collect the points from it!"

"All right, my roll," Chip said as he took the dice. As he tossed them onto the board, he considered his next move. "Okay. I think I'm going to move onto this space Sora's holding – "

"Heyyyyy!" Sora complained. "I'm in last place! Can you let me keep just one?"

"I'll think about it," Chip teased. "Hmm…no. I'm going to take over your space and complete my chain of three."

"HA!" Ruby cried as she pointed at Sora.

"You're ruthless," Sora said jokingly.

"That's what they call me!" Chip replied. "Ruthless Chip!"

"No one calls you that," Vida laughed. "You're the opposite of ruthless."

"Maybe when board games aren't involved!" Chip retorted.

"EXCUSE ME?" Stork broke in, bringing all eyes to him and Papyrus. "Do you have any idea how big of a MESS YOU'RE MAKING?"

"YOU'VE GOTTEN COOKIE CRUMBS ALL OVER THE CARPET!" Papyrus observed. "YOUR SHOES AND SOCKS ARE EVERYWHERE, AND THOSE NAPKINS ARE GOING TO GET THE CARPET EVEN MORE DIRTY! YOU SHOULD MOVE THAT GAME UP ONTO THE TABLE AND CLEAN UP THAT MESS!"

"And at LEAST put your shoes and socks under the table," Stork contributed.

"Come on, guys," Vida protested, "it's just for a little bit. We'll clean up later."

"THAT'S WHAT THEY ALL SAY!" Papyrus accused. "BUT THAT'S GENERALLY SANS-SPEAK FOR 'I REFUSE TO CLEAN UP AT ALL'!"

"Please?" Ruby begged. "We're in the middle of stress relief!"

"You can have stress relief in an actual CLEAN environment," Stork argued.

"I don't see why it bugs you so much," Vida went on. "You can just pretend we're not here."

"Pretend you're not here," Stork repeated. A sly smirk spread over his face as he turned to Papyrus. "Did you hear that, Papyrus? We should pretend they're not here."

"I DID HEAR THAT!" Papyrus affirmed. "AND I THINK IT'S A WONDERFUL IDEA! LET'S GO START PRETENDING THEY'RE NOT HERE AT ONCE!"

Exchanging a suspicious glance, the pair of neat freaks left the room.

"Okay," Riku said once they were gone, "my roll." He tossed the dice. "That puts me on Ruby's space – "

"NOOOOOOOOOO!" Ruby howled.

"And I think I want it," Riku said with a smirk.

The thrumming sound of a vacuum cleaner became apparent in the distance; then Stork and Papyrus burst through the door with the device, letting it whine loudly. "SHOULD WE MAYBE WAIT FOR ANOTHER TIME TO VACUUM THE LIBRARY?" Stork called out over the noise.

"I DON'T SEE WHY WE SHOULD!" Papyrus replied. "THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NO ONE HERE TO BE BOTHERED!"

Stork began sucking up the cookie crumbs with the vacuum hose, making deliberately sure to get it close to the faces of everyone playing the game.

"HEY!" Ruby swiped her piece off the board before it could disappear into the vacuum.

"Okay, okay!" Sora grumbled, standing up. "We'll clean up!"

"I'M SORRY?" Stork replied. "I COULDN'T HEAR ANYTHING!"

"IT MUST BE BECAUSE THERE'S NO ONE THERE!" Papyrus insisted.

Riku, Kairi, Ruby, Chip, and Vida all stood up along with Sora. "WE'LL CLEAN UP!" the six yelled as one.

Stork switched off the vacuum. "Perfect," he said with a grin that was positively evil.

Riku took ahold of the vacuum. "I can finish getting the crumbs out of the carpet," he said decisively. "Kairi, Vida, can you move the board on top of the table? Ruby, you should pick up all the napkins. Chip, you can help move the shoes. Just be sure to keep the pairs together."

"Okay, you totally didn't give Sora anything to do because he's your boyfriend," Vida pointed out.

Riku grinned. "Not entirely wrong."

"I'll help move the socks," Sora volunteered. He gently nudged Riku's upper arm; "Thanks for trying."

The group worked away at their cleanup as Papyrus and Stork observed. "Was that SO hard for them?" Stork sighed.

"IT ALMOST FEELS A LITTLE UNFAIR THAT WE ARE JUST STANDING AND WATCHING WHILE THEY DO THE WORK," Papyrus commented.

"Well, there's no shortage of things that need cleaning in this castle," Stork pointed out. "If it makes you feel better, we could team up on one of the bathrooms. We could even do an entire floor of bathrooms, but that's nobody's idea of fun…heheh…"

"AN ENTIRE FLOOR'S WORTH OF BATHROOMS?" Papyrus repeated. "THAT IS A TASK FOR ONLY THE BRAVEST OF MONSTERS! AND AS ONE OF THE VERY BRAVEST MONSTERS OF THEM ALL, I GLADLY ACCEPT!"

"As neither a monster nor very brave," Stork chimed in, "I think I'm gonna join you on that one anyway."

...

An insistent rap came on the door of the apartment that had been assigned to the Overkills. "Just a minute!" Scarlet yelled before finally reaching and opening the door to find Snatcher on the other side, his hands behind his back.

"Mrs. Overkill," he greeted.

"Mr. Snatcher," she replied.

"I had simply wanted to wrap up a loose end," Snatcher told her. "Now, don't go reading all into this. It was purely Torchwick's idea. But since our acquisition of the meteorite ended up playing into the grand scheme, we thought it only fair to let you personally keep the other half of our spoils. That being said, Torchwick, Mr. Lynns, and I have been working on a little…project involving the objects in question."

"A project," Scarlet repeated, dubious. "Does this have anything to do with what you're hiding behind your back?"

"It most certainly does," Snatcher confirmed. "The three of us managed to create this, which I thought might be of interest to you."

He brought the object he had been holding out into Scarlet's view. The starting point had been the emerald, ruby, and sapphire medallions; the gold from around them had been melted down and reforged into the frame of a tiara. This tiara sported the emerald, the ruby, and the sapphire on its front, forming the base of a pyramid that was topped off by the massive diamond.

"You had a particular affinity for crowns, if I recall correctly," Snatcher said casually.

Scarlet's hands flew to her mouth. "This…is for me?" she said around her gloved fingers. "I don't believe this. I…"

"Just take it," Snatcher urged. "As I said, it was Torchwick's idea."

Scarlet swiped the crown, settling it on her head beneath the hair heaped upon it. "I'M A PRINCESS!" she squealed. "Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!"

"Mrs. Overkill," Snatcher sighed, "please do not make a spectacle of – "

She surged forward and pulled Snatcher into a tight hug.

"AND DON'T DO THAT," he growled. Still, he made no move to push her away, simply rolling his eyes and bearing it. He should have expected this and he knew it.

The Huntsman's voice broke in over the intercom: "Mozenrath. Archibald Snatcher. Roman Torchwick. Yzma. Wuya. Madam Mim. Ayam Aghoul. Report to the lower meeting room. NOW."

"That would be me," Snatcher informed Scarlet. "The Huntsman will be most displeased if I am not punctual, so kindly LET ME GO."

Scarlet backed off. "Okay." Then, in a loud whisper: "Thank youuuu."

Snatcher gave her another eyeroll in response before shutting her door and making his way down to where he'd been called.

The lower meeting room was the one where all but Mozenrath had conspired to ordain a leader when Mozenrath's memory had been erased; having never seen the room before, Mozenrath had to be shown the location by Yzma, but once there, he acted as if he'd known about the room all along. Once all eight were gathered, the Huntsman fixed them all with a venomous glare from the depths of his helmet.

"I have come here to discuss the nature of our relationship," he announced in a low tone.

Mozenrath knew what was coming, and he found it difficult to accurately describe the emotion that was rising within him. He just knew it was ugly and full of sharp edges.

"Whoa," Roman commented. "What's with the tone? Did one of us break your favorite vase or something?"

"I'm sure we are all aware that for the majority of our employment together," the Huntsman went on, "we have considered each other friends. The seven of you may define your relationships with one another however you like, but I am here to inform you that such a label shall no longer apply to me. I am your ally and your co-worker. I am not your friend. I do not wish for you to address me as such, to invite me to gatherings that do not pertain to business, or to interact with me in any way that is anything but professional. Those of you who know my legal name are not to use it."

"Wait," Yzma interrupted. "Who knows your NAME?"

"It's George," Wuya answered. "We found that out in the Four Nations."

"George?" Mim repeated. "Well, that's a letdown."

"You don't perchance have a surname, do you?" Snatcher asked.

"I AM 'THE HUNTSMAN' TO YOU ALL," the Huntsman insisted. "I request to hold my authority as a founding member of this faction if I am so allowed. However, as of now, my friendship with each and every one of you is dissolved."

"You're breaking UP with us?" Wuya seethed.

"What have we ever done to you?" Snatcher asked coldly. "I'd thought we were of quite like minds!"

"I have been putting my priorities in the wrong place," the Huntsman asserted. "I have lost sight of my goals and who I am. I intend to right this wrong by cutting out all unnecessary diversions."

"UNNECESSARY DIVERSIONS?" Yzma repeated. "Is THAT what we are to you?"

"Well, fine!" Mim folded her arms. "Maybe we don't want you for a friend anyway!"

"Um, yeah, we do," Roman contradicted. "This ain't gonna fly, Skullface."

"I would prefer the elimination of nicknames as well," the Huntsman told Roman stonily.

"Too bad, Skullface," Roman countered. "You don't just get to call off our friendship whenever you feel like it because…because of whatever the FUCK reason this is!"

"It's because he didn't get to kill TWO dragons," Mozenrath explained coldly. "He thinks if he didn't care about us, he would have managed to bag them both."

"I am certain I would have," the Huntsman insisted.

"THAT'S what this is about?" Wuya said, flabbergasted. "Dragon slaying as a career, I get, but throwing us aside because you missed one or two? You still killed one on our watch!"

"Are you THAT obsessed?" Yzma added.

"You know what this is?" Snatcher hypothesized. "You're out of your comfort zone, and are blaming us for the fact that you know care about things other than all you knew."

"Hypocritical words, coming from one who eschewed all bonds in pursuit of a white hat," the Huntsman pointed out.

"And that's what makes the two of us so similar!" Snatcher insisted.

"So that's it?" Aghoul asked. "No more karaoke nights?"

"It isn't as though I was ever a contributing part of your frivolities to begin with," the Huntsman pointed out.

"And whose fault is that?" Yzma asked. "We've accepted you so far as an even bigger killjoy than Mozenrath. It's just who you are. But at some point, you're just going out of your way to avoid caring about any of us!"

"As is the plan!" the Huntsman reminded her. "As should have been the plan from the very beginning!"

"Well, we like you now," Aghoul said aggressively, "and there's no coming back from that!"

"Are you saying you don't like any of US?" Mim asked.

"I respect your accomplishments and powers," the Huntsman replied.

"Starting to sound like Iceman a tiny bit," Roman pointed out.

"That's no coincidence," Mozenrath told him. "Guess who put these thoughts in his head?"

"THE WORDS WERE TRUE," the Huntsman insisted, "AND THEY ARE NOW MY OWN!"

"How do you KNOW all of this?" Yzma asked. "Did you two discuss this beforehand?"

"Of course they did," Wuya realized. "They're dating."

"Of COURSE!" Yzma remembered. "Now that Mozenrath has his memories back – "

"We WERE involved," the Huntsman corrected. "We are no longer."

"Well, Mozenrath?" Aghoul asked. "Are you going to let him just cut us off?"

"I've already told him all I have to say on the subject," Mozenrath grumbled. He was riding a fine line between anger and a more melodramatic breakdown, and he was doing his best to tilt toward the side of anger in front of the others.

"And what happens next, hm?" Snatcher asked. "Do you abandon us in favor of someone who will treat you more PROFESSIONALLY?"

"That is not my intent," the Huntsman said calmly. "Then again, should this arrangement continue to result in failure, my departure is not out of the cards."

"WHAT?" the others cried as one – except for Mozenrath, who remained silent, giving the impression of stoicism.

"You can't walk out on us!" Yzma insisted. "Not after all we've been through together!"

"As I told Mozenrath," the Huntsman declared, "one day, you will all realize that you have to make the same choice. Either your friendship with each other, or the goals you have devoted your lives to realizing. You cannot have it all."

"Yes, we can!" Mim argued. "We can have whatever we want, and we won't give up until we get it!"

"I cannot believe you are arguing in favor of friendship," the Huntsman told Mim in disbelief.

"Normal friendships are disgustingly sweet affairs," Mim explained. "What we have is deliciously despicable! Eight evil minds coming together to produce even more evil!"

"That is the general result," Wuya agreed. "The only reason we work is because we work TOGETHER."

"I disagree," the Huntsman stated. "I can see there is no convincing you to accept this change of status. You shall simply have to become used to it. If you have not understood me thus far, I have no more to say to you." He turned and stalked from the room, cape billowing behind him.

"DON'T YOU FUCKING WALK OUT ON US!" Roman yelled, but to no avail.

Once the eight had become seven, six of them turned to look at Mozenrath, all thinking the same thing: the Huntsman's change of heart must have hit him hardest of all. "What do you make of this?" Wuya asked.

"If he wants to stop being our friend," Mozenrath said dryly, "then he made his choice. Who am I to stop him?"

"You're taking this pretty well, all considered," Yzma observed.

"I don't have any choice but to take it well," Mozenrath told her. "Besides, what does it even matter? It probably did make us weaker anyway."

"You're NOT taking this well, are you?" Snatcher realized.

He could have lied. But Mozenrath knew perfectly well the company he was in. "N…no…no, I'm not." He closed his eyes, shaking. "But I don't have any CHOICE."

Aghoul threw an arm around Mozenrath, casually pulling him close. "I've seen this before," he said flippantly. "You want them, but they don't want you. Thankfully, there are solutions. I have any number of ways to force the Huntsman to marry you against his will. Then he'll HAVE to treat you as more than a co-worker."

Mozenrath's eyes snapped open at this prospect, and Wuya saw the interest spark within them. She shoved herself between Mozenrath and Aghoul, forcing them apart with her outstretched arms. "We are NOT doing that," she insisted. "You'll just…have to get over him." She withdrew her arms for a shrug. "It won't be as hard as you think it is. I've gotten over plenty of men and women in my life. Granted, most of them I was just using as idle distractions before I disposed of them, but there were some sparks. I had a little bit of difficulty breaking up with…well, you don't need to hear my story. Soon, he'll be like a broken sword. You throw it out and you forget it was ever that useful. Then you get a new sword. It's the cycle of evil."

"I…will…move on," Mozenrath insisted between deep breaths. His quivering voice righted itself into his usual flippant tone: "If he thinks he can throw us out so easily, he wasn't worth my time anyway. He wasn't worth OUR time."

"Forget him!" Mim grunted. "We don't need him!"

"I'm not so sure about that," Snatcher muttered, looking at the door through which the Huntsman had left.

"We need to figure out what we're doing next," Mozenrath stated. "We need to find the next element and acquire it. Without him."

"You realize that will involve talking to Vexen," Yzma reminded Mozenrath. "Who I am to understand is…somehow involved in all of this?"

"I don't mind talking to him," Mozenrath said casually. "In fact…" He clenched both fists. "I have some choice words set aside for him."

...

Kairi stood on tiptoe to replace the Command Capture board in the storage closet where she'd found it. It was part of a stack of many board games, some of which she had vague memories of playing with Ienzo and their grandmother when she was but a child. They perhaps deserved revisiting. She wondered about inviting Ienzo to the next game.

The thought made her shudder. Up until recently, she had felt safe rekindling her relationship with her brother. But Dilan's defection had given her cause for concern. Could Ienzo also be harboring secret thoughts of betrayal? According to Riku, he had been a mastermind of the Castle Oblivion scheme. It was all too possible that he could want to reclaim that life.

As Kairi's heart sank, she knew what this situation called for. If the Atmos debacle had taught her anything, it was not to refrain from communication when the dynamic between oneself and someone else was unsure. She became determined to find Ienzo and ask him about the subject point-blank.

He was slightly difficult to find, but eventually located in a lounge, taking tea with Lea and Aeleus. All three of them, Kairi realized, were suspect now. She wondered if perhaps it would be more appropriate to return at a later time, when she could catch one of them alone rather than bringing up the subject in front of all three.

But she'd been noticed. "Kairi?" Ienzo greeted, glimpsing her in the door frame. "Did you want something?"

"I…" Kairi swallowed hard, flushing with nerves. "I'm not sure if it's a good time to talk about it."

"What, you've got something to say to him you can't say in front of me?" Lea teased. "I thought we were better friends than that."

"If she wants her privacy, we should respect that," Aeleus chimed in. "But I am willing to halt our conversation for this."

"Well, it kind of does involve all three of you," Kairi admitted.

"Come on in," Lea said with a beckoning gesture.

Kairi tentatively moved into the room.

"Sit," Aeleus told her, and the tone of his voice was such that she found herself quickly scrambling into a chair.

"Now," Ienzo said as he leaned in toward Kairi, "what did you wish to discuss with us?"

"Well…" Kairi knotted her fingers together in her lap. "I was just thinking about how Dilan turned on us on Atmos, and…" She didn't want to accuse any of them outright, so she turned her gaze down to her laced hands.

"Ah," Ienzo realized. "You are afraid one or more of us will return to our old ways as well."

"It's not that I think you will," Kairi said hastily. "It's just…I trusted Dilan."

"Yeah," Lea replied. "So did we."

"We were actually discussing a relatively similar subject ourselves," Ienzo admitted. "Hence the reason the three of us gathered. First we lost Even to the temptations of the Darkness, and now Dilan. It is concerning to say the least."

"He said he missed the thrill of manipulating people and ruining their lives." Kairi's head snapped upward. "You don't feel that way, do you?"

"No," Ienzo assured her. "To this day I am plagued by regrets. I am very thankful that you have all forgiven me after what I have done."

"You wanna talk about forgiveness?" Lea chimed in, looking to Ienzo. "I still can't believe you let it go that I made the replica murder you."

"We were both different then," Ienzo stated. "You were corrupted by a multitude of influences, and I daresay I deserved what was coming to me."

"We were all different," Aeleus added.

"Well, I don't miss it one bit," Lea said as he leaned back in his seat, crossing one ankle over the opposite knee. "If there's anything I still miss, it's Roxas. Y'know, sitting on the tower with him and sharing an ice cream. But I know THAT ship's sailed. The rest of the Organization's icky business? I'm through with that."

"I'm sorry you had to lose Roxas," Kairi said sympathetically.

"Hey, I've had enough time to get over it," Lea told her.

"I can only imagine doing the things I did if I truly had no heart to regret them," Aeleus broke in, "and even then, looking back now, I should know much better. There was no thrill to be had in such pursuits."

"I know there probably isn't anything we can say to ease your mind permanently," Ienzo told Kairi. "As time passes, our trust will build with each other. But for what it is worth, I couldn't take pleasure in manipulation or harm anymore. There are still deeds I feel as though I need to make up for."

"Thank you for telling me," Kairi replied. "I'm sorry if I made you feel…accused."

"Hey, after Even and Dilan, anyone would suspect us," Lea told her. "I'm surprised more people haven't come forward about it."

"I worry of who may suspect us in silence," Aeleus added.

"I could talk to them," Kairi suggested. "I could ask anyone who suspects you to come forward."

"I appreciate the thought," Ienzo told her, "but the three of us need to fight our own battles. We should know better than to get away with no consequences after pledging our service to Xemnas and all that entails."

"Well, it's like you just said," Kairi replied. "Trust will build after we've spent more time together."

"Perhaps the more worrisome thought is what other ghosts from the past will reappear," Aeleus said somberly. "Sora has also reported the return of Demyx."

"What do you think that guy's real name was, anyway?" Lea wondered out loud.

"I always had the feeling you knew," Ienzo said in surprise. "Were you and Demyx not close?"

"Not really," Lea said. "He and Xigbar always seemed to be the dream team."

"Braig and loyalty hardly seem to be sensible mates," Ienzo reminded Lea. "I doubt any alliance with him was beneficial to Demyx. I always got the feeling Xigbar never liked him."

"I never liked him either," Lea confessed. "Kinda hard to when you get teamed up on a mission and the guy leaves you to die at the hands of a giant Heartless…three different times. It was always run, run away whenever things got dangerous."

"He had no heart," Kairi reminded the others. "Of course he couldn't care about you."

"Well, now we have an even better reason not to like him," Lea pointed out. "If he's in with this Mozenrath guy, we gotta be careful. He'd do anything to get out of a tough fight, but if you somehow miraculously got him to stick around and put up the fight, he was no pushover. Which makes it all the more weird that he tried to abandon so many fights."

"Maybe he just didn't believe in himself," Kairi suggested.

"Or perhaps he was lazy," Aeleus offered.

"I'm gonna go with 'lazy,'" Lea agreed.

"Whatever the case, he and Even have both allied with our newest enemy," Ienzo reiterated.

"Now THAT'S a duo," Lea commented. "How long before they drive each other nuts?"

"I would not be surprised if one did not come out of the arrangement alive," Aeleus suggested.

"We now can't help but wonder where the others are," Ienzo stated. "There's been no word from Xehanort all this time, and we know Isa and Braig are working with him to this day. That leaves the questions of Marluxia, Luxord, and Larxene…potentially the most dangerous wild cards."

"It never ends," Kairi realized, "does it? There's always a new evil. Or an old evil coming back."

"There's always something to fight," Lea concurred. "But it beats letting 'em win."

Kairi nodded. "And we will fight. No matter how many of them try to tear us apart."

...

After a long time spent in the Liminal Space, multiple cups of tea drank and many tears shed, Harley Quinn stood. "I should leave you guys alone to get some work done," she resolved, trying to put fire back in her voice. "Thanks for bein' here, you guys. It means so much to me."

"Well, we like ya, Harley," Hoagy reminded her. "We don't wanna see ya hurt."

Harley set her teacup down on the shop counter. "But really, I'm takin' up your time, and I gotta…I gotta figure out what I'm doin' next."

"At the risk of saying what you've probably heard before," Terminus ventured, "have you thought about disassociating yourself with, well…him?"  
Harley shook her head. "I love him. You'd understand if you loved somebody. Especially somebody bad. You gotta forgive 'em when they mess up. That's just how it is."

"But I know how it is to love somebody who's a bad guy," Hoagy informed her. "And maybe he might send me into a dragon's lair once in a while – "

"Oh, for goodness' sake," Terminus groaned, "you and I both know that dragon wouldn't have hurt you!"

"He wouldn't do anythin' to actually hurt me," Hoagy concluded. "And I wouldn't do anythin' to hurt him."

"He's right, you know," Terminus confirmed. "I wouldn't."

"Oh, you guys…?" Harley pointed to each in turn. She smiled; "I really shoulda guessed. It's obvious now that I think about it."

"You can have a life of cons and crime without the black eyes," Hoagy insisted.

"From him, anyway," Terminus added. "You might pick up a few from the enemies you make along the way. But there are solutions for that, too. Aliases, retaliation…"

"But without him," Harley asked, "then who am I?"  
"You're Harley Quinn," Terminus stated, almost derisively. "It's plainly obvious. You're the one who's been whipping this shop into shape, and you've been doing so without any Joker looming over your shoulder. Don't bring him around, by the way. He's the last thing we need mucking up business."

"You'd really be somethin' without him," Hoagy insisted.

"But we're in this together with Maleficent," Harley argued. "How would I even say goodbye to him?"

"How should I know?" Terminus said in mild frustration. "I just know the preferable outcome, not the details!"

"I just don't know," Harley sighed. "He's got ahold of my heart pretty bad. But you guys ain't the first person to tell me I'm better off without a Mr. J. It wasn't this Mr. J., but I ain't sure how all this parallel world stuff works. Maybe deep down, they're just the same. I…I gotta give this some thought."

As she turned for the door, Hoagy asked, "You're not going back to stay with him in the castle, are ya?"

"I think I'll find a spare room to sleep in tonight," Harley replied. "Maybe I'll set up a few blankets in one of the dungeon cells. It couldn't be that hard to bring a mattress down there. I'll be fine! Don't worry about me!"

Then she was through the door and gone, leaving behind a pair who immediately disobeyed her last command and worried.

Harley, in the meantime, began to truly think it over. Was Joker worth all this? Had he crossed a line she couldn't forgive?

Her love for him – was it love after all? – was wrapped up intricately with her loyalty to Maleficent for giving her a purpose and a place to call home when her friends from Gotham had failed her. Joker and Maleficent's destinies were intertwined, and so long as Harley shared space with Maleficent, she could never escape Joker. Did she need to escape him? She hoped not.

For if she hoped to rid herself of him, as it seemed may have been the correct course of action after all, she would have to run away from Villain's Vale altogether.

...

The breeze softly tugged at Moana's hair as she stood out on the ridge of the Radiant Garden castle's outer edges, her eyes drinking in the horizon. The sun had gone down some time ago, leaving a sky with stars scattered throughout. Lamps winked on in the town below.

A rustle of movement alerted Moana to someone else's presence; she turned to behold Katara. "Uh…hi," Katara greeted, waving awkwardly. "I didn't know anyone was still up."

"Hi," Moana replied with a confident wave and a smile. "You're…Katara, right?"

"Right!" Katara nodded. "And I'm sorry, but I forgot your name."

"I'm Moana," Moana reminded her. "What are you up to?"

"Just exploring," Katara stated. "It looks like I'm going to be calling this place home base for a while, so I thought I'd get familiar with it. It's a lot bigger than I expected."

"It's enormous," Moana agreed. "I still get lost sometimes. I didn't go too far away from my room, just in case. You'd think a master wayfinder wouldn't get lost in a castle, but it's harder when you can't map out your course on the stars." A thought crossed her mind; "You know where your room is, right?"

"I think so," Katara replied. "I'll find my way. So what are you doing out here so late?"  
"Just looking around," Moana answered. "I think the ocean used to be here, once. There's a lot of empty space outside the town. Like it just dried up. How could that even happen? I just feel like she was here, but now she's lost."

"She?" Katara noticed.

"I have kind of a special relationship with the ocean," Moana explained. "She's my friend. She guides me when I'm lost."

"That's amazing!" Katara gushed. "Can you communicate with it? Her?"

"Yes." Moana nodded.

"The ocean has given so much to me and my people," Katara stated. "If you do meet up with her again, can you tell her I say thank you?"

"I will," Moana promised. "Actually, I was wondering about you. I saw you in the kitchen earlier doing…things with the water that came out of the sink. So I wondered if maybe you had a relationship with the water too."

"Not like you have," Katara answered. "I can't talk to water, and it doesn't guide me. I just bend it. I guide it, really. Which kind of feels weird to think about now that I know the ocean is alive."

"I'm sure she doesn't mind," Moana reassured. She turned back to look at the horizon. "I miss her."

"Well, maybe you can find her on this world," Katara suggested. "There has to be ocean somewhere out there. You just need to figure out where."

"Maybe," Moana agreed. "When things calm down, and if I can get someone to come with me who knows more about this world."

"It could be an adventure!" Katara asserted.

"It would be!" Moana agreed. She began to walk back to the castle's interior, yawning and stretching. "I think I have to get some sleep, though."

"Yeah," Katara agreed. "Me, too."

"I think the room next to mine is empty. If you can't find yours…"

"I'll keep it in mind," Katara said. "Thanks."

They entered the castle together. It took Katara another few minutes, but she eventually arrived back at the room she'd been assigned.

...

After the last noises headed Vexen's way had turned out to be Demyx, he didn't particularly want to acknowledge the next ones, no matter how insistently those footsteps were storming his way. Thus he was caught completely off guard when he was seized by telekinesis and lifted up away from his table, stretched out like a rope.

Mozenrath held his right hand high, indicating it was what was keeping Vexen in place. "YOU," he growled.

"What have I done?" Vexen groaned.

"YOU convinced the Huntsman his friendship with us was holding him back!" Mozenrath insisted as Yzma, Wuya, Snatcher, Roman, Mim, and Aghoul filed in behind him. "YOU'RE the reason he reduced our relationship to professional!"

"I only warned him about the path he was taking by having a romantic relationship with you," Vexen said calmly. "I said nothing about the others. Though it was probably to his benefit to take the extra step."

"YOU RUINED US!" Mozenrath accused.

Yzma could sense Mozenrath was on the verge of doing something nastier to Vexen than simply holding him in place in the air. "Careful," she warned. "We still need him."

"That you do," Vexen reminded. "I am surprised you are taking this so badly. Am I to understand that you had the same feelings for him that he did for you? Because if so, I would have thought to warn you as well."

"WARN ME ABOUT WHAT?" Mozenrath yelled.

"The dangers of becoming attached," Vexen explained. "As I told the Huntsman, I have observed a great man become reduced to barely anything because of the bonds he held. Love, friends, family…it will all tear you apart and lead you to a swift stab in the back. Look, already, how you are reacting to the Huntsman's treatment of you. You're unstable. This is an instability you could avoid if you took the step to redefine what he means to you. If an enemy caught you off guard at this very moment, could you win the fight? What if that enemy were the Huntsman all along? How close would you have let him get?"

"The worst part is there's a time when I would have believed you," Mozenrath admitted. "But you had to throw a rock in the mechanism NOW. AFTER I already let them all in! After I let YOU in!"

"If you have changed to become less sensible," Vexen stated, "that is no one's fault but your own. Just as I do not dictate the Huntsman's actions. I may have warned him, but I forced him to take no action against you. I, for one, believed he would outright ignore me until the end of time. Were I capable of fear, I would fear for you. If the loss of a friendship brings you all to such anger, how easily can our enemies exploit the seven of you from now on?"

Mozenrath growled, "I have half a mind to – "

"PUT him down," Snatcher broke in, shoving himself in front of Mozenrath, "and set this debate aside for another day. It is quite obvious where both of you are coming from, and we could go round and round for hours upon end discussing it. It is clear that Mr. Vexen is acting out of what is to him good intent, whilst Lord Mozenrath is rightly disappointed, as are the rest of us. But Mr. Vexen is right about one thing. The Huntsman is his own man, and made his own decision." He gave Mozenrath a meaningful look.

Mozenrath wasn't quite sure he read exactly everything in Snatcher's gaze that the latter wanted to express, but he got the basic gist. He slowly lowered Vexen back to the floor.

"I'd banish you," Mozenrath threatened Vexen, "but we do still need you."

"And I would refuse to offer my help," Vexen retorted, arms folded, "but as it is, I still need the rest of you. Our professional relationship is, at the moment, symbiotic. Once our goal has been achieved, we can perhaps revisit the matter."

Vexen and Mozenrath stared each other down for a good minute before Wuya cleared her throat and asked, "So. Darkness, Life, or Fire?"

"Right," Mozenrath grumbled. "We came down here to find the location of the next element, and we'll need you to decode the location. I suppose you're going to give us false information and send us on a wild phoenix chase."

"Do you believe I am truly that petty?" Vexen scoffed. "As I mentioned, the completion of this spell is as much my goal as it is yours."

The compass was rounded up and placed into the base of its accompanying map. "Show us where we can find a pure concentration of Darkness," Mozenrath commanded the object.

The map shifted, fixing a world in its sights. However, it was clear to all involved that the world was slightly off-center. A faded presence seemed to shimmer beside it.

"Interesting," Vexen muttered. "Quite interesting."

"Well?" Yzma urged. "Tell us what we're looking at!"

"The world just out of focus in the map is Hyrule," Vexen began.

"THAT'S HYRULE?" Wuya barked suddenly.

"You know the place?" Mim asked.

"Do I KNOW the place?" Wuya repeated. "Hyrule and I have a history."

"Well, we're not going to let you get away with just saying that," Aghoul told her. "Explain this…history."

"You'll recall I ruled my own world with an iron fist and a cloak of Darkness," Wuya reiterated. "I also liked to visit other worlds from time to time and see how they were doing in the Darkness department. That's how I first met Ganondorf. Now, there was a tyrant! He was capable of oh, so horrible things. Our similar taste in destruction and malice drew us to each other, and our competitive streaks made it a competition. We were always trying to out-evil each other with our new schemes. I would bring him reports of things I'd done and compare them to deeds he did. And, as you can expect, we eventually became lovers."

"I'm not sure that was as predictable as you made it out to be," Yzma said in surprise.

Wuya shrugged. "We had similarly twisted minds. We made quite a pair for a while, and we shared a fiery passion…until he decided he actually hated me and I realized I hated him."

"This story is just a ride that you never get off," Roman commented.

"He claimed I was too showy," Wuya groaned. "That having all the frivolities that come with ruling the world wasn't necessary so long as you kept people in line. He was one of those austere types. All business and very little pleasure. Sure, he'd slaughtered thousands, but I didn't realize just how boring he was about it until he started complaining about me and saying I was growing fat resting on my laurels. And may the gods help any man who calls me fat."

"For what it's worth," Mim chimed in, "I always thought you were too skinny and bony."

"I thought you liked skinny and bony," Aghoul brought up.

"Well, you and Rémy both make it work," Mim said with a shrug.

"So I tried to kill him, but he was too strong for that," Wuya continued. "And he tried to kill me, but I was too strong for that. We decided to keep our distance, but I could never stop thinking about how I wanted the last word. So I started devising a plan to show Ganondorf up once and for all while simultaneously killing him. But before I could carry it out, Dashi, Guan, and Chase showed up with their little box, and then it was millennia of solitude and boredom. I never did get the last laugh against Ganondorf. You know, I tried to give him everything when we were together. Riches, jewelry, thrones, carriages. And he didn't want a single bit of it. Of course, this was over a thousand years ago. I suppose he's long dead by now. I wonder what did him in. I'm already jealous of it."

"If you are done telling your sob story about your romantic life," Vexen broke in, "I haven't explained the complications surrounding the depiction on this map. Hyrule is visible, yes, but it is not the location of the item you asked for. The real location is the Twilight Realm: a world cloaked in shadows, only accessible through Hyrule. Many have tried to travel to it through the Darkness or by using a Gummi ship, but all attempts have failed. It is simply as though the world is not there unless it is reached from the access point in Hyrule. And there is only one access point. A mirror in the Gerudo Desert, used to banish war criminals to the Twilight Realm. You will, of course, require a map in order to properly locate it. I shall set about creating one at once. You, in the meantime, may want to assemble a proper team for the extraction of this item." A sudden thought hit him. "And I believe I know exactly what this item is. The fabled Fused Shadow: magic forged from invaders upon godly realms.

"To be more precise, the Twilight Realm is a dimension of punishment forged by the Hylian goddesses to contain those that claimed dominion over the goddesses. The interlopers were banished and their magic distilled into the Fused Shadow. The goddesses of Hyrule wished so badly to keep the interlopers from returning to the realm of light that they left only one link – this mirror I spoke of – connecting the Twilight Realm to any other. I had thought the Shadow was broken and scattered throughout Hyrule, but perhaps I was mistaken. It only makes sense that it should be returned to the Twili. That would be the people that populate the Twilight Realm, of course. Yes, it must be the Shadow you seek. I shall complete the map posthaste." Muttering to himself about twilight and shadows, Vexen sat down and pulled a large sheet of paper toward himself, beginning to sketch.

"The Gerudo Desert, is it?" Wuya repeated. "That was HIS homeland." A sour look crossed her face.

"He really left an impression on you, didn't he?" Yzma realized.

"It was over a thousand years ago," Wuya reminded her. "I've had plenty of time to get over it."

"But did you?"

Wuya sniffed derisively. "Being reminded is more annoying than anything. He was never really worth my time at all."

Her companions all suspected that was not the case, but no one dared challenge her on the point.

"And wasn't 'Shadow' the name of your father?" Mim suddenly recalled.

"This just seems to be a parade of reminders of the people who tried to hold me back," Wuya growled.

"We could schedule a little time for revenge while we're in the neighborhood," Yzma suggested.

"Who is there to get revenge on?" Wuya asked. "Ganondorf and my father are both dead. Reminders are all I have. Let's just focus on getting that Shadow and leaving."

"Well, I doubt the Huntsman wants any part of this," Mozenrath sighed. "Looks like it's just the seven of us."

"Six," Mim corrected. "I've had enough adventuring! You think I want to get captured by another Shadow Man? No, I'm staying here, and any trouble that happens will be caused by my own two hands!"

"Make that five," Aghoul told the group. "Mimsie and I need some time to…catch up."

"That we do!" Mim seized Aghoul by wrapping an arm around his neck and drawing him in close; her grip was too hard, and that was how Aghoul wanted it. She pecked him on the forehead.

"Spare me the details," Mozenrath sighed. "All right. We should round up some candidates to fill in for our missing – "

"Four," Snatcher stated.

"You're not going either," Mozenrath groaned.

"I've a very good reason," Snatcher insisted. "One I shall inform you of when we have a moment of privacy. Torchwick, I do hope this does not hamper your plans."

Roman shrugged. "I'm going with or without you. But do you mind filling me in?"  
"Yes," Snatcher said, "after I've spoken with Lord Mozenrath about it. It is a…personal matter."

"Okay," Roman replied. "I'll go pick somebody to fill in. Actually, I have a pretty good idea of who should come with us. It'll be an experiment more than anything, but I wanna see how the guy stacks up."

"There's someone I simply MUST invite on this mission!" Yzma added.

"I have a little experiment in mind, too," Wuya said cryptically. "Someone I don't think we've had the chance to truly see the raw evil power of."

"Then we'll meet in the control room in half an hour," Mozenrath decided.

As Mim, Aghoul, Roman, Yzma, and Wuya departed the lab, Mozenrath turned to Snatcher. "So you want privacy. My quarters should offer that."

"Then let us be off," Snatcher said with a glance askance at Vexen. Vexen was too enraptured by his work to notice.

...

Demyx adjusted his sitar against his body as he stood upon the stage of the karaoke room. The entire chamber was empty; the spacious dance floor would serve his purpose perfectly.

It was partly to practice and partly to have fun. Demyx plucked a string, letting the sound reverberate off the walls.

"Perfect," he muttered.

He set fingers to strings and played; as the notes mingled in harmony, water flowed over the dancefloor, contorting to Demyx's command. It stood up in the form of a hundred clones of himself, which then shifted to the shapes of sitars similar to his own, then musical notes. They flowed together into one body, shooting fountains upward at the edges of the room and slightly shorter fountains adjacent, going inward until they met in a V. The columns of water collapsed, and the entire mass lifted itself off the floor and formed a spiral in midair, curling inward and inward, spinning round and round.

"BOO!"

The sudden noise startled Demyx; he plucked a sour chord, and the water splashed to the floor in a single splat, utterly lacking in grace. "WHAT WAS THAT FOR?" Demyx whined as he spun to stare down a giggling Roman Torchwick.

"That was priceless," Roman replied. "Come on, even you have to admit it was funny!"

"No, it wasn't!" Demyx moaned.

"Aw, did I huwt you' feewings?" Roman teased. "Well, get over it! We're going on a road trip!"

"WHAT?" Demyx flinched. "We just got BACK from an adventure! You wanna take me on another one?"

"I wanna see what you're made of," Roman told him. "I know the basic gist, but not the details. Apparently, you have wicked awesome powers with that water guitar – "

"It's a sitar," Demyx said flatly. He plucked a string, letting the sound linger on the air. "Can a GUITAR make a sound that pure? Also, its name is Arpeggio."

"…So you're pretty good with that water guitar," Roman insisted; Demyx rolled his eyes. "You're also apparently a stellar thief, as you have NOT yet proven, and you're good at noticing things. But you know what everybody, including me, seems to agree on? You're a little shit. There's GOTTA be more to you than the guy who picks his buddies' pockets because he didn't wanna do hard work. Or the guy who looked at our dying boss and said 'Ew.' I'm just giving you a chance to prove yourself."

"And what if I don't wanna go?" Demyx groaned.

"Then you'll just have to admit that Gar and I are the superior thieves forever," Roman told him.

"But that's not – you're not!" Demyx sputtered.

"You wanna take the title?" Roman challenged. "Then come with us and help us steal a Fused Shadow."

"A WHAT?"

"I don't know. It was something Iceman told us about. All I know is it's gonna help us. Look, it's going to be a pretty easy job. We walk in, we beat up whoever has the Shadow, and we leave."

"This is going to blow up in our faces somehow," Demyx told Roman. "I just know it."

"Well, it usually does," Roman admitted. "Those are the breaks. You wanna be part of the WHAM ARMY – "

"I was FORCED to join the WHAM ARMY!"

" – You prepare for disaster," Roman concluded. "So. Are you in?"

"You're not going to stop bugging me unless I say yes, are you?"

Roman just winked.

"Fine," Demyx sighed. "I'll come on your heist."

"That's the spirit!" Roman clapped Demyx on the back a little too roughly. "Meet us in the control room on the half hour. Be there or be an object of ridicule for the rest of your natural life."

As Roman turned and left, Demyx muttered several rude comments to himself about the redhead. He only had a few more minutes left to practice his craft, so he might as well make the most of it.

...

Irmaplotz lay sprawled out on her stomach on the floor of the reading room, poring over a book as usual. It was just getting to the bad part, which always made her heart beat faster in anticipation. The unfortunate part was that she was beginning to come to the end of the books available in that reading room. Hopefully, there were more libraries scattered throughout the warship; it was the size of a small kingdom, so the prospect was likely. Irmaplotz was prepared to seek out a new haunting ground.

For now, she still had a few novels to go, and the one she was neck-deep in was of extremely poor quality; therefore, it was riveting. Her eyes darted over the page in anticipation. The twist that was coming was predictable, more than foreshadowed, and it would turn the entire narrative into an incredible cliché. Anticipating the inevitable, she flipped the page.

A bare foot slipped under the back cover of the book and slammed it shut, effectively losing Irmaplotz's place.

"Okay, why?" Irmaplotz asked as she looked up at Wuya, who towered over her.

"That's enough reading," Wuya commanded. "You're actually going to go outside and do something."

"Are you criticizing my reading habits," Irmaplotz asked, "or inviting me on a mission?"

"Both," Wuya told her. "We're after powerful Dark magic, and we need extra hands on deck. You seem like a lot of wasted potential that needs to be turned into something useful."

Irmaplotz scrambled to her feet. Her book could wait. "Oh, I'll get you Dark magic," she promised. "I'll show you the true might of Princess Irmaplotz!" She threw up her hands and let out a hearty "BWOHOHOHOHOHO!"

Wuya flinched. "Tell me that's not your actual evil laugh."

"First mother, and now you!" Irmaplotz folded her arms. "Why does EVERYONE always pick on the laugh?"

"Because it's terrible," Wuya said flatly. "Finish up what you were doing and be in the control room on the half hour."

"I will," Irmaplotz promised.

Wuya exited the room, and Irmaplotz scrambled for her book; perhaps she could make it to that twist before –

Wuya zoomed back in and shut the book again. "Oh, no, you don't!" she scolded. "I know how THAT goes! You promise yourself one chapter, and then you're up all night until you've finished it, and you've missed twelve scheduled torture sessions and a blight!"

With a heavy sigh, Irmaplotz shelved the book.

...

Yzma burst into Zevon's apartment without knocking. "ZEVON!" she announced.

Zevon had set up a minor collection of chemistry equipment in his living room for the times when he wanted to work on potions without going all the way to the laboratory to do it. He finished filling up and corking a bottle before addressing Yzma; "Mother!"

"Get your things together!" Yzma demanded. "We're going on a mission!"

"A mission?" Zevon repeated. "A real mission? FINALLY! I get to be a part of your nefarioso schemes!"

"That you do!" Yzma promised.

...

Snatcher shut Mozenrath's apartment door solidly behind him, fairly certain there were no prying ears about yet still wary.

"Sooooooo…you're going to tell me the real reason you're skipping out on this mission?" Mozenrath prompted.

"Someone needs to talk some sense into the Huntsman and Mr. Vexen," Snatcher explained. "Perhaps find the root of their motivations. If the Huntsman thinks he's to cut himself off from us that easily, he's about to be met with resistance. You must admit if anyone can reach him in this dire hour, it is myself."

"And I know you won't make things worse because…?" Mozenrath replied.

"Oh, come now, Lord Mozenrath!" Snatcher feigned hurt at the statement. "Surely you've more faith in me than that!"

"You do have a way with people," Mozenrath admitted.

"I can't promise you'll have the Huntsman's affections back when you return," Snatcher said, "but you'll at least know I will have tried."

"I get you wanting him back as a friend," Mozenrath said. "You two did have a certain chemistry when it came to subduing magical creatures. Why you care about him and me is another matter."

"As disgusted as you may be with public displays of affection," Snatcher told Mozenrath, "I've no doubt you'd do the same to reunite Torchwick and myself, or Madam Mim with Mr. Aghoul. I'll save you a response, as I know you're not about to admit to it. And furthermore, you and the Huntsman simply seem to belong together. The way I'm seeing it, I'm returning the natural order of things."

"Well…" Mozenrath was unsure how to respond. He was somewhat flattered, but he wasn't about to let himself move into the territory of gratitude.

"Say no more," Snatcher told him. "I've already been embraced once today and I don't intend to go through it again unless it comes from Torchwick."

"I don't hug people."

"Then we're on the same page!" Snatcher grinned. "I simply wanted to inform you of my intentions. I'll be telling Torchwick next, but I thought it more appropriate to relay the information to you personally first."

Mozenrath nodded. "It was."

"Just you wait," Snatcher promised. "I'm not about to let him get away with this. And if I can tear down Mr. Vexen's walls in the process, we'll call it a bonus."

...

After Snatcher had explained his absence from the Hyrule mission to Mozenrath, he made a point of seeking out Roman and explaining the same to him. Roman was impressed, expressing faith that Snatcher could accomplish the deed of breaking the Huntsman and Vexen down from their pedestals of emotionless stoicism. With that, Snatcher was bade farewell.

Mozenrath, Yzma, Wuya, Roman, Zevon, Irmaplotz, and Demyx – the latter of whom had considered not showing up but realized the consequences weren't worth it – gathered in the control room of the warship when the clock struck.

"So this is the team," Mozenrath sighed, looking over Irmaplotz, Zevon, and Demyx. "Well, at least this will give you a chance to finally impress me."

"Considerate yourself impressioned!" Zevon stated confidently.

"Don't write me off either," Irmaplotz added.

Yzma nudged Wuya. "Are you ready for this?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Wuya replied.

Yzma knew better than to retread the ground of Ganondorf. "Just making sure."

Mozenrath cast the Corridor, then held up the map Vexen had drawn of the Gerudo Desert. "One Fused Shadow, ready for the taking."

The seven strolled into the Corridor, already feeling the desert heat from the other side.

...

Cinder Fall bowed before Maleficent. "You wanted to see me."

"Indeed," Maleficent told Cinder. The only other person present in the audience chamber was Ursula, who Maleficent gave a nod toward; Ursula did not need to pay Maleficent such formalities as bowing. "I have a special task for both of you. You may rise."

Cinder stood to full height, and Ursula slid in alongside her.

Maleficent held out a sizeable, rounded bottle filled with sand of all colors, gripped within her clawlike fingers. "These are the sands collected from the Goab Desert in Fantastica," Maleficent explained, "each with its own unique magical property. When combined in the proper order and treated with the knowledge of the Witches of the Sand, this earth can change reality itself. It is through this sand that we are to achieve the retrieval of the Book of Prophecies."

"And how are we going to do that?" Cinder asked casually.

"We are going to alter reality in such a way that the only way to undo what has been done is to write the desired outcome in the Book of Prophecies and watch it come to pass," Maleficent explained. "We shall leave our young heroes no choice but to right the wrong with the use of the book. And when they find it, we shall follow in their footsteps and remove it from their possession."

"Sounds delicious," Ursula commented. "So what are we going to do? Put one of them to sleep with the fish and watch the others scramble to bring them back?"

"Their sort is at a strange peace with death," Maleficent explained. "They grieve when one of their number is lost, but do not seek to undo the damage, as they are aware of the grave cost. No, we must change something more vital to their way of life. A condition under which they cannot go on. But I am already getting ahead of myself. Before we enact such a plan, we must test to be sure it will work as expected. The sands I have selected are for use on such a testing ground. It so happens that I have an old ally I now see a need to bring back to his former glory. His native world shall be the grounds upon which we test the power of the sands. I shall grant him the authority to change that which he wills to change there, and we shall record the results of the experiment. However, there is a chance he may not be as loyal as I recall. I do believe he has had dalliances with forces in the past who are opposed to us now. That is why he will need two chaperones, at least."

"And we're those two chaperones," Cinder realized.

"You catch on quick, sweetie," Ursula said with a light pinch to Cinder's cheek. Cinder didn't react.

"Indeed," Maleficent confirmed. "Depending on the outcome of the experiment, you may also need to call others of our ranks. Or, for that matter, from yours." Maleficent looked directly to Cinder. "Salem and I have discussed the terms of an alliance. Now is your chance to prove to me that her cohorts are worth the trouble."

"I'll keep it in mind," Cinder said tranquilly.

"So who's the lucky man we get to play with?" Ursula asked.

"You shall meet him shortly," Maleficent said. "I shall first need to return him from his deceased state."

Ursula took the bottle of sand from Maleficent, knowing her master would need both hands free to perform such a resurrection. "Whenever you're ready."

Maleficent took up her staff, letting the Dragon's Eye sphere at its tip glow brightly. The entire room became devoid of light save for the green of the Dragon's Eye; its glow became ever more radiant.

Ursula had seen resurrections by Maleficent's hand time and time again. Cinder, on the other hand, was completely awed, though she didn't let it show. As lightning struck the stone floor before her and a thick green flame erupted upward, containing a silhouette within it, she stared raptly.

The silhouette was of a tall, muscular form. As he walked out from the fires, both Ursula and Cinder examined him from the ground up with their eyes. Before he so much as spoke a word, both women knew their new ally was to take them on a journey that would be interesting at the very least.

...

The Gerudo Desert stretched out for miles of bright golden sand beneath a bright golden sun. As Mozenrath walked out into the warmth, he took a deep breath of heated air, then exhaled it. "It feels just like home," he told his companions.

"Speak for yourself," Wuya said as she stepped out in front of him. "It's completely different from when I was here last. It doesn't feel right."

"It's too hot," Demyx complained.

"It is not snow," Roman chimed in, "so I'm good."

"According to Vexen," Mozenrath said as he consulted the map, "we're looking for the Arbiter's Grounds." He held the map up to the horizon, comparing a margin sketch to a visible structure in the distance, one that could have been confused for a castle if one didn't know it was an elaborate prison. Vexen's sketch didn't do it justice; his hand was blocky, logical, without artistic flourish. Even from far off, one could see that the real Arbiter's Grounds were a master work of architecture.

"Well, Wuya?" Mozenrath asked. "Been there before?"

"Stayed away from it," Wuya informed him. "It was Sage territory, and us evil types didn't want to cross the Sages unless we had to."

"So we should be braceted for a fight!" Zevon inferred.

"Perhaps," Wuya mused. "Or perhaps they've abandoned the place. There's only one way to find out."

"All right, team," Mozenrath declared. "Move out."

They began to cross the desert, stopping every now and again to dispose of toothy creatures that snaked beneath the sand and erupted out of the earth to bite. "I'm glad Mim didn't come," Mozenrath remarked. "All this sunshine would make her sick."

"It's making ME sick," Yzma complained. "Who said any place had the right to be this bright?"

"So, Wuya," Demyx attempted, "you have some kind of history with this place. What's the deal?"

"Old flame," Wuya answered. "Bad breakup."

"Geez," Demyx replied. "What did you DO?"

"Do?"

"Yeah, to make your partner break up with you."

"I vote he stops talking," Wuya growled.

"Give him a chance," Roman suggested. "After all, I did invite him, and he really wouldn't do anything to MAKE ME REGRET THAT."

Demyx didn't get the hint. "So where's the big guy with the skull helmet? He seems like he'd be a handy guy to have around in a place like this."

"We're not discussing it," Mozenrath said sharply.

"Why?" Demyx asked. "Wait. Did YOU guys break up? What did YOU do?"

"I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!" Mozenrath yelled, rounding on Demyx. "HE'S the one who abandoned ME!"

"Seriously," Wuya grumbled to Demyx, "stop talking."

Roman rubbed his already sweating forehead with a gloved hand. "I really am going to regret inviting him, aren't I?"  
"If you're having trouble with romancifiction," Zevon offered, "you have my condolation."

"Let's just forget about it," Mozenrath demanded. "And I mean it. We don't need him here. This team is better. Well, with one glaring exception, but otherwise, better."

"Ooh, ouch," Demyx said as he nudged Irmaplotz. "That has to be a blow to your ego."

"I'm sure he was talking about you," Irmaplotz retorted.

An awkward silence fell over the group as they continued their walk.

In an attempt to break it, Irmaplotz began, "So I'm reading this new book, and I think you all should too. It's about – "

"NO ONE CARES," Mozenrath, Wuya, Yzma, and Roman said in unison.

After that, the group let silence reign.

They were all slick with sweat by the time they grew close to the Arbiter's Grounds. "We probably should've brought water," Irmaplotz realized.

"We have potions," Zevon offered, "but they come with side effects."

Demyx took a bottle away from his face, licking stray drops of water off his lips. "Yeah, no thanks. I'll stick with this."

Mozenrath turned to give Demyx a good look-over and noticed the bottle in his hand. "You had water."

"Well, duh," Demyx replied. "My powers let me conjure it up wherever."

"And you didn't think maybe THE REST OF US COULD USE IT?" Mozenrath growled.

"Well…I…uh…"

"Okay, Dishwater," Roman sighed, "either you're going to hydrate all of us within the next five minutes or we bury you."

That ensured water was passed around to all the thirsty.

A small village, or perhaps something better defined as an encampment, came into view before the grounds. "This definitely wasn't here before," Wuya said as she glared at the small civilization.

"It's small," Mozenrath observed. "We should be able to make short work of this."

An arrow whistled through the air. Wuya snapped her hand outward and caught it before it could pierce Irmaplotz's chest. She turned her focus to see where it had come from, observing a small, green and horned man loading up his bow with another arrow at the top of a lookout pillar. Wuya quickly conjured up a bow into her own hands, sending the arrow flying right back at its host. The Bulblin man dropped, stone dead, from the pillar and impacted the sand.

"You weren't kidding," Irmaplotz said in slight awe. "This will be quick work."

Wuya kicked in the encampment gates, alerting a horde of Bulblins to the WHAM ARMY presence.

Not ten minutes later, the seven walked out of the other side of the encampment, which was now afire. "I really need to get out on missions with you more often," Irmaplotz realized.

They had reached the Arbiter's Grounds, which towered up to the sky. "Our mirror is on top of this complex," Mozenrath reminded everyone.

"This building better not be full of fucking puzzles to solve to get up there," Roman grumbled as the group marched into the gates.

...

When they finally reached the top of the grounds, walking out into open air, Roman's mumbled cursing about the puzzle-like obstacles they'd faced to get there were drowned out by Demyx's screams of "BUGS! BUGS ALL OVER ME! GET THEM OFF GET THEM OFF GET THEM OFF!"

"Should we help him?" Irmaplotz wondered out loud as Demyx scrambled to swat away every beetle he'd accumulated.

"Hmm, I don't know," Wuya replied. "Did he share his water when we were drying out in the desert?"  
"Point," Irmaplotz said decisively.

Once Demyx had rid himself of the beetles, the seven continued up the stairway that encircled the outer wall of the grounds' upper level. "This is it!" Zevon exclaimed. "We are about to reach the summith!"

"From here," Mozenrath stated, "it should be smooth sailing. All we need to do is activate the mirror, and from there, the compass should tell us which way to go." He retrieved the compass from his pocket; the needle spun constantly around, indicating that the Fused Shadow was technically nearby but undetectable on the current plane of existence.

"You just had to, didn't you?" Roman sighed.

"Had to do what?" Mozenrath answered.

"Make it sound like it would be easy," Roman groaned. "Every time someone says it's going to be easy, the world drops a bomb on the plan. It's the same principle as saying 'It can't get any worse.'"

"Exactly what is going to stop us?" Mozenrath asked.

"I don't know," Roman groaned. "Maybe these Sages Wuya was talking about?"

"We can handle them," Wuya insisted.

"I thought you avoided them for a reason," Roman reminded her.

"More out of convenience than anything," Wuya clarified.

"Stop worrying, Roman," Yzma commanded. "Everything is going to be just fine!"

They reached the summit, or perhaps the zenith, of the grounds. A long, flat arena awaited them. In the center was an enormous flat stone wall, and before that wall, on a raised platform with a stairway connecting it to the floor, was the frame of what had once been a round mirror.

A frame that had no glass in it.

...

A/N: The Hyrule in this story is taken from the Twilight Princess era, some time after Twilight Princess ends. On the greater Legend of Zelda timeline, it will be canon divergent from that point.


	55. Here Comes the Bride

55\. Here Comes the Bride

"This…is fine," Mozenrath said in a shaking voice. "It's fine." He forced stability tinto his tone. "So the only gateway to an otherwise inaccessible dimension is gone. This is fine. There is a way around this. We can get around this. It's FINE."

"How is this fine?" Demyx asked flatly.

"Working on it," Yzma muttered.

"There has to be some way to restore the mirror," Mozenrath muttered, beginning to pace back and forth. "It was built once in the first place. It can be built again."

"It was built by the goddesses," Wuya reminded him, "and as much as Yzma and I may look like goddesses, we actually aren't."

"Are you even TRYING to help?" Mozenrath barked at her. He returned to his pacing, refusing to look at anyone else; "It can't be more than a piece of glass infused with enchantments. All we have to do is figure out who in Hyrule has knowledge of how to forge it and force them to bend to our will."

"I've almost got a better plan!" Yzma announced.

"No," Roman said flatly. "You don't."

Mozenrath turned back to face Roman, Yzma, Wuya, Irmaplotz, Zevon, and Demyx. "Really, finding out the magical knowhow we need should be a simple affair," he announced. "Wuya, what is the traditional government of Hyrule? I'm hoping to hear monarchy."

"It was when I last left it," Wuya replied. "Of course, that was fifteen hundred years ago. But the kingdom was mostly in the hands of an absolutely intolerable princess."

"Princess," Mozenrath repeated. "Princess is good. If there is still a princess, then all we need to do is take her hostage. We can use these grounds as our base and send out our demands from here. Either someone tells us how to fix the mirror, or we dispose of the princess or adequately substituting royal figure permanently. Though really, my hopes are on princess."

"Why?" Irmaplotz asked, already sure she knew the answer and wasn't going to like it.

"Because princesses are always easier to keep under control," Mozenrath informed her. "They might kick and scream, but they're mostly defenseless, and once you have them confined, there's really nothing they can do to harm you."

"Okay, as a princess, I'm legitimately offended," Irmaplotz told him.

"Go ahead and zap him one for that," Wuya encouraged.

"No," Mozenrath attempted, "don't – "

Irmaplotz tapped him on the nose; "Boop!" A surge of magic flowed through her fingertip into his face and jolted his entire body.

Once Mozenrath had shaken it off, he sighed. "As I was saying, the princess should be relatively easy to control – "

"Hey, Righty?" Roman broke in. "Not to burst your bubble, but the only princess we know you had actual experience with has been on the team that kicked our ass every time we ran into them. I'm starting to think you're not a big authority on princesses."

"THAT DOESN'T MAKE KIDNAPPING ONE A BAD IDEA," Mozenrath asserted.

Wuya snorted.

"Is there a problem?" Mozenrath inquired.

"Oh, nothing," Wuya remarked. "Just that kidnapping the princess was always Ganondorf's mode of operation, and I was hoping to move in a more independent direction."

"Well, I don't hear anyone having a better plan," Mozenrath retorted.

"I HAVE A BETTER PLAN!" Yzma announced, holding one hand high, index finger extended.

"No, you don't!" Roman insisted.

"At least hear my mother out!" Zevon grumped.

"All right," Mozenrath sighed, turning to Yzma. "I'll humor you. But the minute it turns stupid, I'm not listening anymore."

Yzma clasped her hands together. "First, we acquire yard upon yard of tinfoil."

"Aaaaaaand we're back to kidnapping royalty," Mozenrath announced.

"I kinda wanted to know where she was going with the tinfoil thing," Irmaplotz admitted.

"Listen, Wuya," Mozenrath stated firmly. "Taking royal hostages may have been the calling card of your evil ex. But that's because it works. It's a time-tested plan that has always netted results for any villain worth his salt."

"You really don't read many fairy tales, do you?" Roman tried to interrupt.

He was ignored. "The bottom line is this," Mozenrath told Wuya. "You can either avoid doing what works because it reminds you of a bad breakup. Or you can take this opportunity to do it better than Ganondorf ever could. Be more efficient, put the stakes higher, and when it comes time to turn her in for the knowledge of the mirror, you can make the call as to how many pieces we send her back in. If you can't join 'em…beat 'em."

"I suppose you have a point," Wuya mused. "There's still no telling if there actually still is a princess to capture. But there should be SOME member of the ruling class who will be missed. All right. We'll do it."

"Just lead the way," Mozenrath told her, arms spread wide.

"Lead the way?" Demyx groaned. "Are we going to have to walk all the way across the desert again? Are we going to have to go through the BUGS again?" He plopped down into a sitting position, folding his legs into a pretzel. "If that's what's up, I'm staying right here."

"Not necessarily," Mozenrath told him. "Now that we've covered some ground, we can cut some corners." He cast a Corridor.

"Right," Demyx realized. "I almost forgot about that." He stood once more.

"TO ABDUCTATE A HOSTESSAGE!" Zevon cried as he bolted into the Corridor.

"TO ABDUCT A HOSTAGE, WITH PROPER GRAMMAR!" Irmaplotz yelled as she followed.

Soon, all seven were through, standing once more at the edge of the Gerudo Desert. Now they faced the opposite direction of the Arbiter's Grounds, noting how the land tapered off into a great basin below, offering a stunning view of the entire nation. Wuya pointed to a congregation of intricate structures, a castle surrounded by smaller businesses and abodes, nestled at the very heart of the land. "That's where we want to go," she announced. "Castle Town."

"Creative name," Irmaplotz mocked.

Wuya stalked off in the direction of the aptly named town, and her allies followed. Demyx muttered "We need some tunes" before summoning his sitar into hand, his walk turning into somewhat of a waddle as he balanced the instrument but still enough to keep pace with the others. He plucked at the strings, finding a suitable song to punctuate the journey.

When one travels the worlds as often as Demyx had done, one picks up a repertoire of music; one also discovers that some music is common across multiple worlds due to parallel natures. The song Demyx began to play just so happened to be one familiar to Roman. "You know, I can't believe I'm saying this," Roman told him, "but you actually have good taste."

"I know!" Demyx replied.

He and Roman began to sing the song together. While Demyx was apt at carrying tunes, Roman's voice, as per usual, was only barely in the range of the appropriate key.

"You sound absolutionally dissonancecordant!" Zevon groaned.

"Roman, stop," Mozenrath sighed.

Roman only took a quick break from his song to say "Fuck you" before picking up right where he'd left off.

The song, Mozenrath, Wuya, and Yzma realized, was one they'd heard many times before from Roman playing it around the base. Upon this knowledge, they all looked to each other.

"You're not thinking…" Mozenrath began.

"You said it yourself," Wuya told him. "If you can't join 'em, beat 'em."

"A-ONE!" Yzma counted in. "A-TWO! A-ONE-TWO-THREE-FOUR!"

Technically, it was joining rather than beating, but as Mozenrath, Wuya, and Yzma joined forces to sing the same song, they vocally drowned out Demyx and Roman.

All the while, Mozenrath was doing his best to ignore the part of his mind that the Huntsman had firmly planted a staff in. It still felt as though something was thrown out of balance; as though part of Mozenrath was absolutely empty. But that feeling had to pass, he thought. The Huntsman most likely didn't care about him, so he wasn't going to care about the Huntsman. He didn't need the Huntsman to pull off a proper hostage situation, and he was about to prove it.

In short, it was fine.

...

The Huntsman was trying to ignore an emptiness of his own creation. He felt he was doing a fair job at it. Upon hearing that Mozenrath, Yzma, Wuya, and Roman had left on an element collection mission without him, opting to take Zevon, Irmaplotz, and even Demyx, he told himself he didn't care. Had he been invited, he would have refused, and he knew they knew that. His severance from their friendship would soon set in fully, and he would no longer care.

For now, there was still a lingering sentiment he couldn't quite name, but if it couldn't be named, it obviously wasn't worth entertaining.

The sound of the intercom crackling throughout the base caught his attention. A familiar baritone became clearly audible: "…to the control room at once. Wait, no…ah, there we are! Now it's working! Infernal device…" There was the loud clearing of a throat. "Will the Huntsman and Mr. Vexen report to the control room at once? The Huntsman and Mr. Vexen are to report to the control room at once!"

Archibald Snatcher, the Huntsman thought. What did he want? He didn't much feel like obeying orders, but he had resolved to follow logic rather than his feelings, and logic dictated that he should at least hear his co-worker's proposition out.

Vexen obviously felt similarly, for the pair found themselves entering the control room, which seemed to be the usual point of departure for a mission nowadays, as Snatcher awaited them in the center. "Gentlemen!" Snatcher addressed. "Precisely the men I wished to see!"

"What do you want, Snatcher?" Vexen barked.

"I've a proposition," Snatcher announced. "As you well know, a faction of our forces has gone to collect the next required magical artifact for our purposes. However, it seems they've neglected perhaps the more important mission at hand. Something I'm sure you'll agree is vital to our operations."

"Out with it," the Huntsman snapped.

"Time and time again," Snatcher explained, "we've been foiled by mere children. True, yes, there have been adults among them. Yet their leader is but a youth with half a brain. There seems to be one small faction spearheading the missions that come into conflict with our own, and yet, at the same time, Mr. Vexen has reported back that there are in fact many more allies of theirs waiting in the wings. How much do we in fact know about our foes? How many of them can we expect to fight in days to come? What manner of sorcery and weaponry can they bring to combat our own? These are questions that cannot be neglected."

"You are suggesting reconnaissance upon their base of operations," Vexen realized. "Quite astute. I can provide you with somewhat adequate knowledge regarding the Radiant Garden Restoration Committee and the Keybearer's immediate friends, but these new additions to their ranks are a matter of concern. The party I met with upon the Balmera had only one recognizable face and a slew of warriors with variegated powers. We would do well to know what we are up against. And provided they have not abandoned Radiant Garden, which I highly doubt they would do, we know exactly where they all gather."

"This does seem a worthy pursuit," the Huntsman added. "However, I don't see how you expect us to be able to examine them. We lack a proper method of surveillance."

"I suggest infiltration," Snatcher stated with a confident smile.

"After the World of Twelve, they will be expecting Madame Frou Frou," the Huntsman reminded him.

"Which is why Madame Frou Frou won't be the one to knock upon their door," Snatcher explained. "It shall instead be a wandering hero by the name of…'Nikolai' sounds good at the moment…looking to join their ranks."

"You aren't taking on the guise of a woman," the Huntsman said with slight surprise.

Snatcher sighed. "Sacrifices will have to be made, and that is one. However, a male persona has its benefits. Now, I'm not suggesting the both of you follow suit. You could stake out a reasonable vantage point whilst I relay intelligence to you via scroll."

"You hardly know how to work a scroll," the Huntsman reminded him.

"I've gotten much better at it!" Snatcher said defensively. "In fact, I do believe I've mastered the art! As you two hide, and I'm certain Mr. Vexen knows the ins and outs of the town enough to choose a proper hiding place, I would contact you and let you know everything I discover. However, SHOULD one or more of you want to join me in observing from the inside…"

"That sounds absolutely unappealing," Vexen grunted.

"Quite a shame, that," Snatcher told him. "'Twas you I was thinking in particular to join me. As I cannot take the mantle of a woman, it would only make sense for you to do so."

"ME?" Vexen snapped. "What sense do I make as a female?"

"You've the long and glorious tresses of hair," Snatcher pointed out. "The slender waist, the proper shape of the hips…you'd be quite convincing, really. Wouldn't be hard to find a gown that would flatter you."

"Personal grievances aside," Vexen groaned, "my face would be instantly recognizable by anyone on the Committee. I absolutely refuse to dress as a woman for your scheme on those grounds."

"Hey, uh…I know I'm interrupting…"

The fourth voice pierced the conversation; Snatcher, Vexen, and the Huntsman all directed their attention to the doorway from which it had come. Garfield leaned against the frame, giving a casual wave.

"What are you doing here?" the Huntsman asked accusatorily.

"Wanted to see what was up," Garfield told him.

"So you were eavesdropping," Vexen sniffed.

"You are aware curiosity killed the cat," Snatcher added.

"Well, I'm no cat," Garfield responded. "I am one hundred percent firefly. And if you guys need somebody to dress in drag and figure out the scoop from the inside, I could be your man."

"Why do I have the feeling you just want to wear the skirt?" Vexen accused.

"Is that really so wrong?" Garfield responded. "Peter already got to. It's long past my turn. Besides, I think we all know Red Hat here can't really work a phone."

"I most certainly CAN!" Snatcher argued.

"Well, I've been using a cell way longer than you have," Garfield reminded him. "And whatever world you're going to, you already know they won't know me."

"You never did run into any of that faction on the Balmera," Vexen recalled. "And when you did encounter hostiles, you were masked."

"You do know the facial hair would have to go," Snatcher asserted.

"Sacrifices, right?" Garfield replied. "Just let me be Bridgit Pike and we'll call it good."

"Nikolai Pike," Snatcher muttered. "Doesn't quite roll off the tongue, but I can make it work."

"What, you wanna play us as a couple?" Garfield asked.

"Father and daughter," Snatcher clarified. "The dynamic just seems to be fitting."

"So Iceman and Skullface go hide," Garfield reiterated, "while you and I start rubbing elbows with the hero wannabes."

"This plan seems sound," the Huntsman admitted.

"I must agree," Vexen said with a nod.

Snatcher's smile widened. It was all going to plan. True, the current draft of the plot required him to be separated from the Huntsman and Vexen for quite some time, but in the end, he knew, he would find time to corner them and talk some sense into both of them. First, of course, came the matter of turning Garfield into a presentable woman.

"Before we do anything else," Snatcher announced, "we've got to get you fixed up for your debut, Mr. Lynns. Once preparations have been completed, shall the four of us depart?"

"Yes," the Huntsman said with a nod.

"I shall provide the Corridor," Vexen added.

"Very good," Snatcher said, mostly to himself, as he moved toward Garfield, gesturing to the other man to follow him down the hall. "Very, very good indeed."

...

Mozenrath's attempts to block out the lingering feelings the Huntsman had left him with were growing weaker and weaker. There were only so many miles you could walk while simultaneously having a sing-along, and eventually, even Demyx had gotten tired of playing the sitar, though that seemed to be the activity he could do for the longest period of time without complaining. Mozenrath was left to go over his thoughts again and again, replaying the conversations he'd had with the Huntsman – both alone and among the greater group – and trying to find some lick of sense within them. Did the Huntsman really put so little value on Mozenrath's life? Did he truly think all that had happened between them meant nothing? And what was going to happen next? Would he get tired of the WHAM ARMY and return to solo work?

As Mozenrath stewed over these questions, Irmaplotz retrieved a bundle of threads from a pocket and began to weave while walking.

"Is that macramation?" Zevon asked in interest, looking over her shoulder.

"Macramé," Irmaplotz corrected.

"That's what I said."

"Well, it is," Irmaplotz answered, her face lighting up once Zevon took the interest. "I'm making an owl."

"An owl!" Zevon repeated. "That's going to look adoratiable!"

"Really?" Roman sighed. "REALLY?"

"Are you bestoweathing a name upon this owl?" Zevon asked.

"I was thinking of 'Lady Hootella von Hootsworth!'" Irmaplotz said excitedly.

"I love that name!" Zevon complimented. "You know, I tried macramation myself a few times, but I could never get the hang of it."

"It's easy!" Irmaplotz insisted. "I'll show you!"

She put strands into Zevon's hands, teaching him how to weave the proper patterns.

The discussion of arts and crafts was growing too mundane for Mozenrath to stand when in fact, there were such serious matters to discuss as the Huntsman's complete and utter betrayal of his relationship to Mozenrath, and if the contingent hadn't crossed the gateway into Castle Town at that moment, Mozenrath would have made an outburst about the subject. But as it were, Yzma asked, "So, Wuya, is it like you remember?", and that changed the subject to the mission at hand, which was even higher priority and a sufficient distraction.

Wuya glanced upward at the towering architecture that framed the cobblestone streets. "It's changed," she remarked, "but not by much."

The entire city seemed to be in the throes of celebration; people scurried hastily from here to there with great smiles and outbursts of laughter rather than milling about or walking with the focus required for completion of errands. Everyone seemed to be dressed up in colorful and formal-looking attire, and most people ended up heading in the direction of the castle. Great banners bearing the Hylian royal crest, a complex winged symbol topped off with a triangle cut into three even parts with a fourth hollowed out, were stretched across the upper reaches of the buildings.

"Looks like there's some kind of party going on," Demyx observed. "How's that for recon?"

"I think any dumbass could tell you there's a party," Roman said flatly. "You really wanna impress us? Tell us what kind of party it is."

"You're on," Demyx said as he hurried to catch up to a gaggle of civilians all decked out in blue.

"Well, let's see if he actually wants to do his job for once," Mozenrath groaned.

"Hey!" Demyx said casually as he sidled up to his targets. "This sure is exciting, isn't it?"

"It sure is!" a young woman replied.

"You think they'll have cake?" Demyx asked, hoping to seem innocuous.

"Of course!" the young woman insisted. "What kind of wedding would it be without cake?"

"A pretty stupid one," Demyx told her, mentally filing the information he'd just gotten. "Anyway, hoping to dance with the bride."

The young woman gave him a wide-eyed stare. "You really think she'll dance with you?"

"Why wouldn't she?" Demyx replied, making sure to keep his tone light; he could always claim he was joking if he went down a road he shouldn't have. "I'm a pretty good dancer."

"But she's the PRINCESS," the young woman emphasized. "Everyone's going to want to dance with her!"

So there was a princess, Demyx thought. Mozenrath would be happy to hear that, though it sounded like he gravely underestimated what a woman of the blood royal was able to do to defend herself. Then again, Maleficent had apparently managed to capture seven of them with no trouble a year prior. Demyx then wanted names, and thought about how he could discreetly poke at the subject. "I dunno," he said. "I'm still gonna go for it. It's actually kinda too bad she's married off now."

"What, are you going to try to hit on Princess Zelda?" the young woman laughed.

There, Demyx thought. He'd gotten the name and hadn't even had to pry too much. Now to get the name of her betrothed. "I'm just kidding around," he said as he playfully elbowed the young woman's upper arm. "I'm more of a gentleman than that! Besides, the groom seems like a cool dude."

"He does!" the young woman agreed. "I've never seen him, but I hear he and Zelda are just perfect for each other. I also hear he's dreamy!"

Maybe Demyx should have led with a line about wanting to catch the groom's eye rather than the bride's, he thought. That was much more accurate to how he actually worked, anyhow. "Can't trust everything you hear," he said. "What if he's really a big ugly jerk?"

"Zelda would never marry a jerk," the young woman said teasingly.

A booming bell rang out from the city's center. "That means they're seating for the ceremony!" the young woman gasped. "We need to hurry!"

"Wait!" Demyx tried to call as the woman and her assorted group of friends broke into a run and sped away from him. He sighed, turning back to walk toward Mozenrath, Wuya, Yzma, Zevon, Roman, and Irmaplotz.

"Well?" Wuya asked, arms folded. "What did you get?"

"There's a princess, all right," Demyx answered. "And all this stuff is set up for her wedding. I got her name, but nothing on the groom. Looks like we're going after one Princess Zelda."

Wuya immediately bristled. "ZELDA?" she repeated.

"Something wrong?" Mozenrath asked.

"Zelda," Wuya repeated. "That was her name fifteen hundred years ago."

"Maybe it's a family name," Yzma dismissed.

"It had better be," Wuya growled. "Because if she's still around…"

"You can't seriously think HE'S around as well," Yzma told her. "It's been centuries!"

"You keep forgetting," Zevon broke in. "It was centuries on HER world. But time passes differently on every world!"

"Not by THAT much," Wuya corrected. She then shrugged; "But it's probably nothing."

"Though when you think about it," Roman pointed out, "YOU survived all those years imprisoned in a puzzle box limbo. So if there was any chance HE ended up getting trapped in the same kind of limbo – "

"We're not going there," Wuya said sharply as she clamped her hand over Roman's mouth. She sighed. "Kidnapping Princess Zelda, all over again."

"You might not want to say that in the middle of town," Irmaplotz warned.

"At least we get to crash a wedding," Wuya reminded herself.

"And I have confirmed there will be cake!" Demyx said with a nod.

...

The very same balcony that had played host to Moana and Katara's evening conversation now played host for Sora and Riku to stand upon it, looking out over the town as they leaned in close to each other.

"By the way, I wrote to Yen Sid," Riku brought up in the midst of their conversation. "I told him it might be a while before we can make it back to his tower for training. We'll see what he says."

"I'm sure he'll understand," Sora said reassuringly.

"I'm a little worried," Riku admitted. "He was afraid that Xehanort's time would be soon. And if he thinks that's the case, he's probably right. For all we know, Dilan will rejoin Xehanort."

"Just because we haven't been training with Yen Sid doesn't mean we haven't been getting stronger," Sora pointed out. "We've still been learning new things with each world we visit."

"That's true," Riku said with a smile.

"Wait…new worlds," Sora muttered. He straightened up with a start; "What time is it?"

"It's almost noon."

"We were going to meet up with Merlin at the hourglass at noon!" Sora cried.

"Who was?" Riku asked.

"Me, Ruby, Papyrus, Stork, Jasmine, and Katara," Sora answered.

"You're really becoming an anti-Mozenrath squad," Riku laughed.

"Well, sort of," Sora replied. "Now we're more of an anti-Cinder-Fall squad. We're helping Ruby finish what she started." He sighed. "Though I really have been missing you every time we go out. …Hey!" He broke into a smile. "Why don't you come with us this time? Or are you going to be looking for Maleficent?"

"This time, I'm going with you," Riku asserted. "We've been apart for too long. Being able to spend the time with you that I have recently made me happy, and this time, I'm not ready for that to end." He held out a hand. "Let's go together."

"Together!" Sora agreed as they clasped hands firmly.

Down in the streets of town, Aladdin and Jasmine strolled among the shoppers in the market district, taking a good look at everything they came across. "They sure do have interesting weapons here," Aladdin remarked as he took note of a display of large swords mounted on the wall of a shop.

"Anything you like?" Jasmine asked.

"Nah, I'm good," Aladdin told her. "What about you? See anything you want?"

"Nothing I need," Jasmine told him, "but the jewelry here is all so interesting. There doesn't seem to be a piece that isn't enchanted to protect from other spells."

"Really makes you wonder about the history of this place," Aladdin mused. "Sure, we know all about Ansem and how the Committee used to live here before it became a mess, but what happened before that? Were there magic wars?"

"What do you think the other kingdoms of this world are like, anyway?" Jasmine wondered. "What's outside Radiant Garden's walls?"

"I'm not sure we even know enough about Radiant Garden to start asking that question."

"I think you're right." Jasmine shielded her eyes as she turned her face skyward. "It's almost noon. I'm supposed to meet Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, Stork, and Katara at the hourglass to figure out our next move."

"Still chasing Mozenrath?" Aladdin asked.

"A different enemy this time," Jasmine corrected. "Someone Ruby set out to find."

"Hey," Aladdin suggested, "what if I come along with you this time?"

"That would be wonderful!" Jasmine told him. "I was just thinking we'd spent a little too much time apart."

"Same here. Come on; let's go!"

Aladdin grabbed Jasmine's hand, and in synchrony, the pair broke into a run across the town square to get back to the castle.

"So tell me about this enemy of Ruby's!" Aladdin asked as they bolted.

"Her name is Cinder Fall!" Jasmine began.

Merlin was already waiting in the hourglass chamber; one by one, Ruby, Stork, Katara, and Papyrus filtered in. Sora, Riku, Aladdin, and Jasmine were the last four to arrive, skidding in around the same time.

"Hey!" Sora greeted. "So, if nobody minds, Riku's coming with us on our next adventure."

"So am I," Aladdin broke in, "if that's cool with everyone else."

"THE MORE, THE MERRIER!" Papyrus said gleefully.

"Double date!" Ruby cheered. "Double date!"

"The more people we have on our team, the better to fend off enemy attacks," Stork pointed out.

"I think it's great that you're coming along," Katara said with a nod.

"Now let's figure out where this Cinder Fall is so we can show her what we're made of," Aladdin declared.

"It's about time we had justice for Remnant," Riku added.

"You ready?" Sora asked with a pointed look at Ruby.

Ruby nodded. "I'm ready."

"THEN LET'S ASK THE QUESTION!" Papyrus insisted.

"You should do it," Jasmine told Ruby. "This is your mission."

"Um…okay." Ruby stepped ahead of the crowd, looking up at the hourglass's top.

"Don't be nervous!" Merlin encouraged. "Knowledge should never be something to fear."

Ruby took a deep breath, then said in a loud, clear voice, "Where is Cinder Fall?"

The sands emptied from the upper chamber into the lower, swirling frenetically. An image of a symbol, a winged crest topped with a triangle pattern, stood out clearly in the foreground while a castle rose up behind it.

"Most unexpected!" Merlin cried.

"I don't like the way you said that," Stork told him.

"Where is it?" Katara asked.

"It can be none other than Hyrule," Merlin identified. "Talk about a mess. Three different timelines and more reincarnations than you can shake a stick at!"

"What's wrong with reincarnation?" Katara asked defensively.

"Nothing at all," Merlin told her. "It simply makes the history of this world somewhat difficult to track. If I recall, its present era should be after the great flood, when – oh, no, nonononono! That's not the right timeline! No, it should be after the vanquishing of Zant! Oh, you'll figure it out when you get there. I'll set you up with the proper directions."

"I can't believe it!" Katara clasped her hands together. "My first mission to another world! Well, okay, I came here, and here, it's been really exciting already. But this is a real mission! A chance to make a difference!"

"Provided we actually can make a difference," Stork sighed. So far, he thought, all they'd been able to do was follow the trails of destruction left by Mozenrath and Maleficent and sweep up the ashes.

"WE CAN AND WILL!" Papyrus asserted.

"Cinder," Ruby said somewhat distantly, looking directly at the glass. "It's time."

...

Princess Zelda had numerous handmaidens who were ready to prepare her for her wedding day. However, she had chosen to give them the day off, telling them to seat themselves in the audience being set up in the throne room. For she had a great many friends who had wanted to be part of her preparations, and she couldn't say no to their request. Much to the scandal of her court, she was dressed and coiffed by commoners, though to Zelda, they were quite the opposite of common people.

Telma finished brushing shadow onto the princess' eyes. "There you go, honey," she said softly. "You do look beautiful."

She stepped back so Zelda could open her eyes, beholding herself in the full-length mirror before her. Her wedding gown was snow-white with a voluminous skirt and glittering crystals sewn into anywhere they could make an accent. The makeup Telma had applied to Zelda's face made her eyes and lips stand out from afar, highlighting just how beautiful both were.

"Oh my gosh!" Agitha gasped. "You look just like a snowdrop!"

"I'm no judge of fashion," Ashei admitted, "but you look pretty good, yeah?"

"It just needs one finishing touch," Ilia said with a smile. She picked up a long, white garment from the nearby table.

Zelda knelt, letting Ilia place the veil over her head. Zelda drew the veil back to behold the entire picture. "Thank you so much," she said gratefully.

"You're so lucky," Ilia sighed.

"I wish I could find my perfect prince just like you!" Agitha pouted.

"You've got plenty of time for that, honey," Telma said knowingly as she flashed Agitha a smile. Looking back to Zelda, she said, "When he sees you walk down that aisle, he's gonna know just how lucky he really is."

"It's me who's lucky," Zelda replied. "I love him so much."

A knock came at the door. "Is everyone decent?" a male voice asked.

"Link!" Ilia gasped. "Get out of here! This is for women only!"

"No, it's fine," Zelda laughed. "We're decent. Come on in."

Link still shielded his eyes as he entered the room. "Just making sure," he teased.

Ilia pulled Link's hand down. "Well, you're already here," she sighed. "You might as well come all the way in."

"What brings you here?" Telma asked.

Link looked to Zelda with a broad smile. "I just wanted to check in with you before you walked down the aisle," he said earnestly. "How are you feeling?"

"Wonderful," Zelda sighed. "I can't believe this is really happening."

"Well, I'm glad it is," Link told her. "You deserve true love."

"Thank you," Zelda told him. "For being my friend through it all."

"No, thank YOU!" Link laughed.

"This is getting mushy," Ashei sighed.

"A woman is allowed to get mushy on her wedding day," Telma stated. "When it happens to you, you'll know."

"You're assuming I want to get married," Ashei teased.

"How is he?" Zelda asked Link.

"I didn't check in on him for that long," Link admitted. Zelda's groom, hailing from beyond Hyrule, was being dressed and prepared by royal footmen, having no real longstanding friends in the area. "But he seems to be just as happy to marry you as you are to marry him."

A page skidded past the door. "Princess Zelda!" he chirped. "You're ready! It's nearly time!"

Zelda nodded. "Everyone, go sit down," she commanded. "You'll see me again in no time."

She parted ways from Link, Telma, Ilia, Agitha, and Ashei, all of whom made their way to the throne room to join the audience.

...

The throne room had been converted into a wedding hall, with white banners emblazoned with the golden Hylian crest spanning the ceiling and row upon row of gilded and cushioned chairs set up for guests to fill. As the last straggled in, a small band of harpist and violinist, set up next to a cake-bearing table that would become the focus when the room was converted to reception hall later, began to fill the chamber with soft and pleasant music. The priestess of the goddesses entered the room, taking her place at the front, where a podium had been erected at the throne. Then came the prince, decked out in white and gold, his coat bearing long, flowing tails. His stride down the aisle was confident but soft in a way, conveying that he knew exactly what he was here for. He took his place up front at the podium and waited.

The harpist and the violinist changed their tune to something more regal as the doors opened to reveal Zelda. Her groom flinched, a smile breaking out over his face as his eyes traveled over her. He knew that beneath her veil, she was smiling to see him as she strode delicately down the aisle. The door was gently shut behind her by a pair of footmen.

She arrived next to him; he pulled back the veil over her chestnut hair to behold her tranquil eyes and blissful smile. He looked back at her as though he were looking at a sunset.

The priestess looked out over the sea of Hylians who had flocked from all corners of the nation to see their princess wed. "Dearly beloved," she began, "we have gathered here today – "

The doors were thrown open, and a clear voice rang out: "I OBJECT!"

A gasp rippled through the audience. All eyes turned to see Mozenrath entering the room, with Yzma, Wuya, Roman, Zevon, Demyx, and Irmaplotz in tow.

"Were we not at that part yet?" Mozenrath asked. He then gave a shrug; "Oh well; it doesn't really matter."

Immediately, the troupe of seven was surrounded by guards pointing sharp spears at them. "Is this how you treat all your guests?" Mozenrath asked sarcastically.

Zelda held up a hand. "Let them speak," she commanded.

"Your highness," Mozenrath said as he gave her the smuggest of expressions. "I'd like to invite you to a gathering of my own. Well, really, it's more like a hostage situation. The event is bargaining for the recomposition of the gateway to the Twilight Realm, and you're the guest of honor. Unfortunately, you won't be able to take a plus one, and refusing to attend is kind of off the table."

The guards' spears pressed in more closely. "Leave the princess alone!" one of them commanded.

"Oh, dear," Wuya mocked. "We certainly are surrounded by trained soldiers with deadly weapons. However shall we get out of this one?"

Completely in synchrony, she, Mozenrath, and Irmaplotz erupted in a wave of magic that sent the guards flying.

"GUARDS!" The groom withdrew his sword, flicking it at the intruders. "PROTECT ZELDA!"

Gasping, Link fumbled for his own blade, pulling forth an iron sword forged in the fires of Ordon Village. He had only come armed as a precaution, fairly certain he wouldn't need to use weaponry of any sort. He had unfortunately been proven wrong.

And he hadn't been the only one to tote a weapon into the hall.

A crowd of guards barreled down the aisle toward the seven intruders. Zevon brought forth a flask from his belt, lobbing it at them with a "BA-BAM!" Neon blue smoke enveloped the soldiers, and before they could process what was happening, they were all going backward, every step they took forward propelling them instead in the opposite direction.

As more guards fenced in from behind, Demyx gave the a grin. "Looks like it's time to rock out!" he declared as his sitar materialized. Plucking a jaunty tune, he summoned a host of watery forms that engaged in battle with the soldiers, throwing them back and battering them until they dropped their spears. Taking advantage of this, Mozenrath, Wuya, Irmaplotz, Zevon, Yzma, and Roman fanned out through the room.

Most of the civilians, at this point, were sufficiently frightened, and they rose to make a mass exodus toward the doorway. Demyx cut them off, dancing a little as he continued to play and formed a wall of water that slammed into the crowd head-on. Solid spheres of water dropped onto them from above, beleaguering them and forcing them to kneel on the ground.

The BOOM of a cannon caused Roman to jump, barely missing the blast that sailed past him from behind and briefly warmed him with far too much heat. "Oh, so you wanna play with fire?" he taunted as he beheld the perpetrator: an elderly man known as Auru, who knelt beside a sizeable weapon. Roman aimed the Cudgel and fired it at Auru; Auru had the good sense to abandon his post before the Cudgel's blast obliterated the other cannon.

A prickling on the back of Roman's neck alerted him to an incoming presence from behind. He spun to clang the shaft of the Cudgel against Ashei's sword. "Sorry, Pigtails," he taunted, "but you just took an obviously losing bet."

"I don't think so!" Ashei grunted as she attempted time and time again to cleave through Roman; he parried every blow with a smirk, slightly swaying in time to Demyx's tune.

A falcon soared overhead; an Ordon native known as Rusl whistled to direct it. The bird attempted to divebomb Yzma; Yzma retaliated by drawing her atlatl and launching a dart. The falcon pulled hastily up to avoid being impaled. Yzma trained her next dart upon the bird, letting another one fly and watching the falcon swerve to avoid it. With the loading of another dart, she had the bird on the run.

Thinking quickly, Link lay his sword on a chair, pulled a bow from his back, and fixed an arrow upon it, a bomb with a lit fuse skewered upon that arrow. He needed less than a second to put Mozenrath in his sights and let the arrow fly. Mozenrath held out a hand; the arrow froze in midflight. "So we have a wannabe hero," Mozenrath sighed as he twirled his finger in midair; the arrow, correspondingly, spun a 180 before launching back at Link. "Please at least last long enough for this to be entertaining."

Link quickly swept up the sword, batting the bomb away so that it exploded harmlessly in the corner of the room. He leapt over the chairs that stood between him and Mozenrath, blade held high. As he descended, Mozenrath reached up, an energy ball charged in his right hand to meet with the sword. Seeing this, Link quickly twisted the sword in a different direction; he landed firmly on the floor and stabbed at Mozenrath's midsection. Mozenrath was caught off guard, his dodge of the blade really more of a fall to the floor than anything. While he was down, Link stomped one foot on Mozenrath's chest.

"You're not laying a finger on her!" Link promised as he pointed his sword at Mozenrath's throat.

"Actually, you're not laying a foot on me," Mozenrath growled, clutching his right fist; the energy ball disappeared. It reformed as several small points of magic that surrounded Link from behind and on either side. The spots of blue caught Link's peripheral vision, and only just in time did Link dive forward, vaulting over Mozenrath and somersaulting on the floor before the spots fired searing beams. Mozenrath then created a whip of blue energy in his hand, cracking it toward Link; as Link stood, the thin rope of magic wound round and round him, locking up his legs and binding one arm to his side. He lifted his sword arm high up out of the way, bringing the blade down onto the whip only for it to connect a current of shocking energy to his body. Mozenrath stood, proud of his achievement; before he could rest on his laurels, Link hopped to close the distance between them, sword swinging. Caught off guard, Mozenrath reeled backward, the whip snapping and falling to pieces.

Wuya and Irmaplotz surged toward the not-yet-wedded couple. "You take care of the dreamboat," Wuya told Irmaplotz, "and I'll take the prize!"

Irmaplotz made a beeline for the prince, hands glowing with red energy. The prince backed away, looking for all the world like a prey animal facing its predator, holding his sword out as though its small sting would protect him. As Irmaplotz got closer, he attempted to swing the blade.

Irmaplotz twirled, catching the sword in her hands. As soon as the metal connected with the vermilion magic she bore, it fell to pieces.

"AGAIN?" the prince groaned.

As soon as he was left unarmed, Irmaplotz simply tackled him, bringing him to the ground as she jammed a fist into his face. She then stood tall over him, watching him try to struggle to his feet before surrounding him with magic that jolted his entire body and forced him to the ground again.

"Who da man?" she said smugly to herself. "I'm the man."

Zelda watched Wuya's approach; at first, she thought the woman's steps were slowing, but then she realized this phenomenon was happening to the entire room; it was time itself slowing down for Zelda. All she saw was enveloped in black. She knew, then, what force was coming to protect her.

"Please," she prayed. "Help me save them."

They flashed brightly before her eyes: the Light spirit Ordona, the great cattle beast holding a sphere of pure Light aloft in their horns. The spirit Faron, the monkey curled around their sphere while their tail encircled all. The spirit Eldin, whose great flapping wings obscured then revealed their eagle body. The spirit Lanayru, whose snakelike body surrounded Zelda in entirety. Round and round the princess they sailed until their spheres of light were let go and pierced her heart.

To Wuya's eyes, it only took a split second for the bow to materialize in Zelda's hands. The scene of the wedding hall snapped back into Zelda's vision; the princess hoisted up the bow, drew – an arrow burning with Light appeared nocked on the string – and let fly.

Wuya sailed over the arrow, but not without feeling it come close to grazing, burning with heat. She landed hard on the floor, casting a ball of virulent magic from her left hand before making a spin and launching a second from her right.

Zelda shot both spheres out of the air expertly before sending a bright arrow beaming directly at Wuya's chest. Wuya slid to the side; the arrow hit her shoulder, burning hot enough to actually bring a yelp forth from Wuya. She tried to grasp the shaft of the arrow to pull it free, but the Light burned her hand. It would just have to stay there. "You messed with the wrong villain, princess!" Wuya growled as she spun toward Zelda, aiming a kick at the princess' midsection.

Zelda raised the bow to block the foot, then using it as a lever to throw Wuya back. In no time, she'd drawn back again, thinking of all four Light spirits. Four arrows appeared on the string; when Zelda let fly, they arced in four directions around to connect at Wuya's location. Wuya backflipped twice to evade them; the arrows crashed into each other and fizzled out. Wuya's next move was to strike the ground, letting a wall of green flames erupt in a line from her point of impact toward Zelda; Zelda simply planted an arrow in the end of the fiery trail and extinguished it in one blow.

"Problems?" Irmaplotz asked as she sent another full-body shock through her captive prince.

"NO!" Wuya growled. "I refuse…to lose…to a Hylian PRINCESS!" She shoved her hands outward, and a whole shockwave rolled in toward Zelda.

Zelda pushed back, not even needing arrows this time. A wave of light met Wuya's fire, colliding with the magic in between the two combatants; both staggered from the resulting knockback.

"Okay, seriously, I have the prince, and he doesn't have any weird light arrows," Irmaplotz stated. "Let's just take him instead and go."

Wuya gritted her teeth before giving in. "WE'RE LEAVING!" she barked as she cast a Corridor of Darkness behind Irmaplotz. She rushed over to the prince, who was finally starting to stand, and seized his wrists from behind, locking them in a pair of shackles summoned from thin air.

Mozenrath and Roman didn't want to admit defeat; neither did they need to be told twice. They turned tail and bolted away from Ashei and Link. Zevon trotted along, carrying his own prize: a great plate piled high with dessert. "I'VE GOT THE CAKE!" he proclaimed.

Yzma's parting shot actually pierced the falcon, bringing it down in a bloody heap and transforming it into a chipmunk at the same time. Pumping a fist in victory, Yzma made for the Corridor at top speed.

Demyx lay down cover behind the group, still rocking to the beat as water fountains sprayed up behind himself and his allies, preventing anyone else from getting close. The only person they had left to worry about was Zelda.

Zelda wasn't going to let these intruders take her lover without a fight. As Wuya began to shove her prince into the Corridor, Zelda readied one more arrow, hoping to aim true.

Roman and Mozenrath shot at the same time; Zelda fumbled the bow as red-hot Dust exploded behind her and a crackle of bright blue energy blew up in her face. Then all seven were through the Corridor, taking her prince with them, and the Corridor snapped shut: gone.

There was a stunned silence among the chamber as guards and guests alike, thoroughly soaked by Demyx's barrage, watched the point where the intruders had exited with their captive. Then Zelda sank to her knees, dropping the Light spirits' bow, and buried her face in her hands, shaking.

...

An insistent knock came at the door of Peter and Garfield's apartment. Peter, the only one home at the time, gracefully rolled up to the door to answer it. In doing so, he looked upon the face of the last person he had ever expected to see on the WHAM ARMY base.

"I gotta hand it to you, Peter," Tony Zucco said with a sly grin. "You really knew how to get lost this time. But no matter how far you run, I'll always catch up, and you know it."

"You'll excuse me if this is in any way rude," Peter replied, trying to keep up his usual demeanor of whimsy despite the chill running through his limbs, "but I'm fairly sure the last time I saw you, you were dead."

It all came to him in flashes: memories of working, as a child, among the Zuccos in their circus. Ratting Tony out for the premeditated murder of his father in order to earn reward money and accolades. Keeping out of the Zuccos' sight for over thirty years. Tony tracking him as far as Gotham, cornering him and preparing to fillet him with those knives he did love so much. Harley and Garfield arriving just in time, preventing Peter from meeting an unsightly end. Harley herself being the one to do Tony in – and she never was one to get blood on her hands if the situation weren't dire – by bashing his head into unrecognizability with a baseball bat. And that had been the last of it, Peter had thought.

Apparently, he'd been wrong.

"Dead?" Tony repeated. "That ain't stopped nobody else around here, has it? Well, until now."

Peter didn't realize what he was driving at right away. "I suppose you've come to finish me off?"

"I don't like to leave loose ends, Peter. And you've been dangling on your own for much, much longer than I'm comfortable with."

"You'll have to catch me," Peter said before leaping into a backflip.

He had intended to pick up a makeshift weapon and launch it at Tony before making a break for the ventilation system, but Tony flicked his wrist, throwing what seemed at first to be a knife until it became a shackle, locking around Peter's ankle and immediately lodging to the nearest wall, holding Peter in place upside-down. Tony threw three more, bonding all of Peter's limbs to the same wall.

No amount of struggling could break the shackles. Peter didn't think to wonder where they'd come from or how they were sticking so tightly to the wall; at the time, it all seemed to make a horrific sort of sense to him. "Hm," he remarked, growing truly nervous. "This is a bit of a tight spot."

Tony withdrew an implement from beneath his jacket; this actually was a knife, long and wicked with a brilliant sheen. "Now, where should I start?" he mused. "Where, oh, where could I cause you the most pain before you end up performing at the great big top down below?"

"You've really made a mistake this time," Peter pointed out, hoping he was on the right track. "You see, I've made some quite powerful friends. If you thought Team Penguin was bad, wait until you get an eyeful of them."

"Ohhhh, you mean Mad Madam Mim?" Tony replied teasingly, his eyes glittering with malice. "Ayam Aghoul? Little miss Neopolitan?"

"I don't want to know how you know their names, do I?" Peter asked, his smile downturning.

"Why don't you see what happened to 'em for yourself?" Tony suggested.

In an instant, Peter was chained not to the wall of his own living room, but to the wall of the karaoke hall, where bodies lay strewn about, leaking crimson blood. Aghoul's body was splayed over Mim's. Neo's head was separated a far distance from the rest of her. Xayide was cleaved completely in half. Grany was impaled upon his own sword while Rémington lay slashed to ribbons in front of his body, having perished trying to protect his brother. Snipe had tried to utilize his mace, but his arms had been detached expertly and the remainder of him laid to rest. Tears of blood poured from Ravess' eyes as she lay face-up. Scarlet was drenched in liquid the color of her namesake; Herb's bones were set at odd angles, having been broken in a scuffle before his throat was slit.

"No one left to save you now," Tony boasted.

It was then that Garfield wandered into the room, in the midst of an explanatory monologue: "Okay, so we hit a snag in the mission, and Iceman sent me back here to – WHAT THE – "

The knife arced through the air, piercing him directly in the throat.

"NO!" Peter cried.

Tony watched Garfield fall with a smirk. He then walked toward the fallen corpse, plucking the knife from his neck. "That was my last clean knife," he said with a shake of the head and a click of the tongue. "Oh, well. Makes it more poetic, don't you think? You'll die by a blade soaked in his blood."

He then began to advance upon Peter, far too slowly, drawing out the fear inside, making the anticipation of the torture to come simply unbearable, and there was no one left Peter could cry out to for help as his final fate closed in –

That was when the door to the washing machine opened.

...

Mim gestured to the wide room filled with implements of pain designed to target every part of the body. "And this is the torture chamber!" she introduced to Scarlet.

Scarlet gasped as she darted into the room, flitting from this machine to that one. "You have EVERYTHING!" she gushed. "Ooh, Herb is gonna love this!" She stopped to think about a crucial factor. "So, uh, is this strictly for actual literal torture, or can it be used for, well…kinkier things?"

"It was designed for the former," Mim said with a wink, "but there's no saying you can't use it for the latter!"

"I like your style!" Scarlet complimented.

They then proceeded to the laundry room. "This is the communal laundry," Mim introduced. "It was originally more of a washing tub situation, but Wuya fixed the place up with these newfangled machines. I warn you, Mozenrath gets testy if you don't take your laundry out on time!"

"Looks like somebody left theirs in this one," Scarlet muttered as she opened the door to a front-loading washing machine.

What she found was not leftover wet clothes, but a human being, curled up inside the machine. Furthermore, she had just startled that human being awake from a nap.

"Sorry!" Scarlet squeaked as she backed away.

Getting his bearings, Peter uncurled himself from the machine's interior and slid out into the room. "So it was a dream," he said cryptically. "That does admittedly make more sense. After all, Aghoul can't die, and nothing can touch Neo."

"What are you talking about?" Mim asked.

"And why were you asleep in the washing machine?" Scarlet added.

"Oh, just a nightmare," Peter said casually, though he was shaken. He'd had his share of nightmares, but that one had seemed especially vivid in comparison to past fare. "As for why I was asleep in the washing machine…it looked comfortable."

"Was it?" Scarlet asked doubtfully.

"Yes," Peter told her, "though I don't think you'd agree if you tried it yourself."

Scarlet eyed up the machine, wondering if it was even feasible for her to fit inside in any position. She resolved that it wasn't, nor was the idea worth entertaining.

"I do love having a good nightmare!" Mim squealed. "Was there gore?"

"Oh, yes, lots," Peter answered.

"Were there spiders?"

"None of those, I'm afraid."

"Were you about to die just before you awoke?"

"As a matter of fact, I was!" Peter said proudly; Mim's enthusiasm for the subject was infectious. "I don't think you would have enjoyed this one, though. You were killed off by a mere mobster."

"Now, that's just not accurate," Mim huffed.

"What were you ladies in the midst of?" Peter asked.

"Scarlet was getting the grander tour of the facilities," Mim explained.

"Wanna come along?" Scarlet asked. "I'm sure there's a lot around here you can show me. I have a feeling you in particular have a lot of secret hideaways."

"If I told you about them, they wouldn't be secret," Peter said with a wink. "You two go on and have fun. But not too much fun!"

"We'll have as much fun as we please!" Mim insisted as she stomped out of the laundry room.

Scarlet began to follow, but she had only taken a few steps when she realized that behind her, Peter was standing stock-still, folding his arms around himself and casting his gaze to the floor. "Hey," she asked, "you okay?"

Peter's head snapped up, and a broad smile crossed his face. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Just checking," Scarlet told him.

She hurried to catch up with Mim, saying in a low voice, "I think that nightmare really messed with him."

"Peter Merkel, afraid of a little nightmare?" Mim reiterated. "Preposterous!"

Scarlet didn't know Peter well enough to say, so she let the subject drop.

...

A Corridor of Darkness opened in the midst of Hyrule Field.

The world had thought to finally see peace from the bane that had plagued it for hundreds upon hundreds of years. His last stand was supposed to have been against Link, his death met at the end of the Master Sword. But Maleficent had been quite deliberate in her selection of associate to dispatch to Hyrule, and had she been able to feel the despair of the goddesses upon his return, she would have been all too pleased.

Ganondorf breathed in the air of his former homeworld. It was as vapid as he'd ever found it.

Behind him, Ursula exited the Corridor, her tentacles crawling along. "Good to be home, isn't it?" she said coyly.

"If ever this was my home," Ganondorf grunted.

Cinder Fall strode out after them, and the Corridor closed behind her. "It's the place whose people will fear you most," she remarked. "I can't think of a better definition of 'home' than that."

"So," Ursula said with a playful nudge to Ganondorf's upper arm, "thought about what you're gonna change?" The arm she had touched ended in a fist that clutched the bottle of sand Maleficent had mixed into the power to contort reality itself.

"Yes," Ganondorf confirmed. "I know exactly what must be done."

"Just let me slip a little something on first." Ursula held her own bottle, this one full of a sparkling powder that resembled ground-up diamond but was so much finer, less harsh. She uncorked it before pouring the pixie dust liberally upon herself; her tentacles lifted off the ground, and she hovered at just the right height to be on eye level with the tall Ganondorf. Then she gave an experimental swim around him, satisfied with her ability to manipulate the air as if it were water. "Much more comfortable," she remarked. "Now tell us what the big plan is."

"Hyrule is a land guarded by four spirits of Light," Ganondorf explained. "Ordona. Faron. Eldin. Lanayru. It is they who keep the Twilight at bay and prevent the land from falling to powers on the edge of Darkness. It is they who provide the comfortable lives the citizens of this land enjoy. And it is they who must be twisted. For if they no longer guard Light, this world will fall."

"Four spirits, huh?" Ursula reiterated. "That would explain the four you had us pick out back home."

"A precautionary measure," Ganondorf said, "should someone figure out how to undo what has been done. They can be dismissed once time has proven the change irreversible."

"And if they like their positions?" Cinder asked.

"They may do as they wish," Ganondorf replied. "They will be given the means to live as mortals when none but the bearers of the Triforce will withstand. As I granted power to Zant before, so shall they be granted power. I understand them, however, to be far more deserving."

"One should hope they are," Cinder said with a nod.

"Well, don't keep us waiting!" Ursula urged.

Ganondorf held the bottle of sand at arm's length, eyeing it up. A very subtle smile crossed his face as he let the glass container drop, willing it to do his bidding.

When the bottle hit the ground, the glass shattered. A rainbow of sand erupted into the air, crashing like a splash of water before dispersing on a sudden gust of wind.

And all at once, everything changed.

...

Wuya gave the captured prince a hard shove as she, Mozenrath, Yzma, Zevon, Roman, Irmaplotz, and Demyx returned victorious to the zenith of the Arbiter's grounds; the hostage fell flat on his face with a grunt.

"You're making a big mistake," he grumbled.

"That's what they all say," Wuya sighed. Turning back to the others, she asked, "So how long until we make our demand?"

"You…" Yzma pointed at Wuya. "You've got a little something in your…right there…"

Wuya glanced at where the arrow of light was still sunken into her shoulder. She poked the shaft with a finger; it seared painfully.

"Here," Yzma offered. "Let me – " She seized the arrow with both bare hands, then recoiled with an "OUCH!"

"I should probably get that," Mozenrath told her, holding up his right hand. "The nice thing about the gauntlet, other than the immeasurable magical power it provides, is that it will shield from – "

"No, I have it!" Yzma insisted, grasping the arrow once more. Gripping through the pain, she wrenched it out of Wuya's shouder; Wuya stumbled forward slightly from the jolt, looking at Yzma in awe for what she'd just done.

Yzma dropped the arrow like it was hotter than hot – which, to her touch, it was – and the moment it hit the floor, it dissolved.

"Well, that was stupid," Mozenrath remarked.

Yzma simply held out her hand and said "Potion."

Mozenrath pressed a bottle of regenerative potion into Yzma's hand, and Yzma presented it to Wuya. "You'll only need about half the bottle," Yzma explained. "Leave the rest for me."

Wuya gratefully downed her half of the potion, feeling the torn-open space in her shoulder close up as if it were never there. Yzma dribbled the rest of the potion over her hands, rubbing it in like moisturizer to counteract the light arrow's burn.

"You really didn't have to do that," Wuya said, still in slight surprise.

"Of course I did," Yzma replied without a second thought as she cast the empty bottle over her shoulder, throwing it hard enough to launch it right off the edge of the building. "Now. Back to business."

The prince had managed to get to his feet; Wuya snapped her fingers and a shackle appeared around his ankles, binding them together and causing him to lose his balance and tip over again. "You're not going anywhere," she told him. "You may not have been the bargaining chip we had in mind, but we can still play you at the table."

"What EXACTLY are you planning to do to me?" the prince groaned.

Mozenrath rolled him over with a foot so he could look at the man's face. It was quite a handsome face, he had to admit, framed delicately with neatly groomed auburn hair and a pair of prominent sideburns. "I can see why the princess wanted to marry you," he observed.

"Was that supposed to be a compliment?" the prince responded. "And for clarification, she was going to marry me because she loved me, and she thought I loved her."

"Love," Wuya spat. "Love is for idiots."

"Did I say I loved her?" the prince reiterated. "I said she THOUGHT I loved her. And that's the secondary reason you just made a huge mistake. The PRIMARY reason is that if you want what I think you want, you're not going to get it."

"What we want is for someone to rebuild the mirror that opens the gateway to the Twilight Realm," Mozenrath explained.

Wuya lightly backhanded his arm; "Don't give the entire plan away to the hostage!"

"And see, right there, that's where you messed up," the prince sighed.

"I don't see how we did," Mozenrath explained. "We wait a sufficient amount of time to get everybody nervous, then we make a dramatic re-entry to the kingdom somewhere public enough to be seen and make it clear that if we can't get that mirror within three days – "

"Make it one day?" Roman suggested. "I'm sick of this desert."

"Seconded," Yzma grunted.

"If we can't get our mirror in one day," Mozenrath amended, "you'll be destroyed painfully and creatively."

"Guess I'll die, then," the prince sighed.

Wuya smacked Mozenrath's arm once more; "What did I JUST say about telling him the plan?"

"I think we're all forgettorating the prioritizy here," Zevon reminded the group, lowering his plate to the ground. "We also have the CAKE."

"CAKE!" Irmaplotz yelled before digging into it with her bare hands and shoving it into her mouth. "Mmm," she said with delight, "vanilla with a hint of lemon!"

"Move over, Bookworm," Roman said as he shoved Irmaplotz aside to get his own hands into the cake – after delicately removing his gloves, of course. "You KNOW I don't get to eat this stuff when Archie's around, so I'm calling dibs." He dug out a hunk of pastry and stuffed it into his own mouth.

"Save some for me!" Demyx cried as he tore into the cake; Zevon followed suit. Yzma, Wuya, and Mozenrath gave them a rather flabbergasted look before turning back to the prince, who'd managed to work himself into a sitting position.

"So," the prince offered, "do you want me to tell you why your plan is ten kinds of wrong?"

"I can't wait to hear what flimsy excuse you come up with so that we'll spare your life," Wuya scoffed.

"It's not a flimsy excuse," the prince said sharply. "I did my research before I got here. I always do. And that mirror was made by the goddesses and shattered by one of the Twili. There isn't a smith on this world or any other who can fix it. If you're asking for that, you could hold out for eternity and come up empty-handed. The only other thing that could break you into the Twilight Realm is if you had part of the Triforce of Power, but the problem with THAT is that the last known guy to have it is deceased."

"Good," Wuya snorted.

"Good?" the prince repeated. "And how is it GOOD that you don't have any other way into the Twilight Realm?"

"Because if the wielder of the Triforce of Power is dead," Wuya remarked, "I won't have to worry about running into my ex."

"Good for you," the prince droned. "Anyway, now you know why you can't get what you want. But you're obviously making some kind of power play, and from what I saw back at the castle, you're the ones with the power. I'm trying to bet on the fastest horse here. I thought that was Zelda, but now I'm starting to think you're already halfway to the finish line."

"What are you trying to say?" Yzma asked skeptically. "That you want in?"

"Believe me," the prince asserted, "I'm one of you. Well, okay, I'm not one of your little team here. But let's just say we have a lot in common."

"And what's THAT supposed to mean?" Yzma groaned.

"I'm apparently not getting back to Zelda alive anyway," the prince stated, "so I might as well drop the act. That wedding was a sham. Well, she thought it was real. And we were going to be legally married. She was only going to survive about a week before a tragic 'accident' befell her, leaving the entirety of Hyrule to me. And of course, by 'accident,' I mean I was going to get rid of her. I don't know why you want into the Twilight Realm so badly, but I'm guessing it's something to do with power. Now you know the kind of power I was looking for. You're the bad guys, and so am I."

"What a lovely story," Wuya sniffed. "And exactly what someone trying to get us not to kill him would say. We'll see how much of that was true." She approached the prince, pressing a hand to the side of his head.

After reading what she could, Wuya backed away in shock. "…He's telling the truth," she said, surprised.

"Murdering the royal family in order to take over the throne," Yzma recounted. "A classic plan, if I do say so myself."

"All right, I'll humor you," Mozenrath said. "The reason we want to enter the Twilight Realm is to collect the Fused Shadow. That particular embodiment of Darkness is part of a spell we need to take over not just one kingdom, not just one world, but the heart of all worlds, and all the worlds connected to it. How does that strike your fancy?"

"Consider my fancy struck," the prince said with a smirk. "So you're from off-world too."

"Then so are you," Yzma realized.

"We're after the same thing," the prince insisted. "Just in different ways. If you scratch my back, I could scratch yours. You have to be able to use someone like me. A pretty face with a silver tongue for lies."

"We already have that," Roman said around a mouthful of cake.

"And her name is Xayide," Yzma clarified.

"Actually, I was talking about Archie," Roman clarified after a swallow.

"He said PRETTY face," Demyx said without missing a beat.

Roman shoved a handful of cake into Demyx's face, smearing it over his eyes.

"Trust me," the prince insisted. "I could help you."

Mozenrath regarded the prince with doubt. "I don't exactly see what you're bringing to the table that we don't already have," he admitted. "On the other hand, I do have to admit we wouldn't have gotten this far without taking advantage of opportunity like yours. Let's say we put you on probation. You'll work with us on obtaining the Fused Shadow. If we like your performance, you're hired. If we don't, it's back to a creatively painful death."

"That's fair," the prince said with a decisive nod.

"And if you try lying to us," Mozenrath went on, "Wuya will see right through it."

"Oh, and I'll have fun coming up with punishments for you if that happens," Wuya cackled.

"Still fair," the prince said casually. "So. Do I get to know the names of my new employers?"

"I am Mozenrath," Mozenrath introduced. "Lord of the – "

"Former," Roman threw in.

Mozenrath bristled. "FORMER Lord of the Black Sands."

"Wuya," Wuya added. "Heylin witch, and more powerful than you know."

"Not more powerful than a princess with a fancy bow and arrows," Demyx chimed in.

"Do you want more cake in your face?" Roman sighed.

"It's actually delicious," Demyx told him, "so yes."

Roman whacked Demyx on the back of the head with the Cudgel.

"I am Yzma!" Yzma announced. "You can call me an evil genius."

"And I am Zevon!" Zevon added. "Son of Yzma, and a geniosity myself!"

"Roman Torchwick," Roman introduced. "Liar, cheater, thief, survivor."

"Princess Irmaplotz of Hierogoth," Irmaplotz added. "Currently on hiatus from ruling Hierogoth."

"And I guess my name is 'Demyx' now," Demyx sighed.

"And you?" Wuya asked, fixing the prince with a stern glare.

"Hans," the prince replied with a smile. "Prince Hans Westergard of the Southern Isles." He squirmed a bit; "Now are you going to let me out or not?"

Wuya snapped her fingers, and the shackles holding Hans' wrists and legs popped open. Hans stood up, massaging one wrist with the opposite hand. "That's better," he sighed.

"No mirror," Wuya reiterated. "No Triforce. We're going to have to come up with a third plan."

"Working on it," Yzma muttered.

"Oh, this should be good," Roman remarked.

All eight were suddenly made aware of a great shift in the atmosphere. Their skin prickled. Something fundamental in their surroundings had just warped, though it wasn't immediately visibly obvious.

"Did…anyone else feel that?" Roman asked.

"Magic," Wuya identified. "It was magic."

"What KIND of magic?" Zevon asked.

"Magic I don't have a good feeling about," Wuya muttered.

"Um…guys?" Demyx pointed a shaking hand out to the horizon, in the direction of Castle Town.

All eight turned to see a dark wave of magic – not true Darkness, but still a dimming of the skies and clouding the air – blanketing the land, rolling in over them like a tidal wave.

They barely had enough time to utter oaths before they were enveloped.

...

A/N: Pixie dust Ursula is a creation of GAvillain's that he let me borrow.


	56. Twilight Falls

56\. Twilight Falls

After the abduction of Hans, the Hyrule castle mobilized. Troops picked up weapons. Advisors scuttled back and forth, issuing orders. Zelda had changed out of her wedding gown into her more usual attire of white and purple; the skirt offered her greater mobility, and there was no way she was staying behind while the others sought Hans.

She caught up to Link as he spoke to Rusl, Ashei, Auru, and Shad in the throne room. "So they think they can just swoop in here and take one of our friends, yeah?" Ashei was saying. "We'll make them think again."

"We have no idea where they've gone," Shad pointed out.

"We'll find them," Link insisted. He faced Zelda; "You're going?"

"I must," Zelda insisted.

"I was hoping you would," Link said with a smile and a nod. "He'll need to see your face again after all the danger he's been in."

"We'll have him back again in no time," Rusl insisted.

One moment, they were in agreement, standing together in a chamber brightly lit by the carved-away segments in its walls that opened it up to the sunlit landscape outside. But the very next, darkness covered the entire room; in fact, it covered everything the eye could see outside. Link and Zelda flinched as they realized they stood alone in the throne room, with only four blue lights resembling flames flickering in the air before them.

"What…what happened?" Zelda gasped.

"No…" Link gaped at the blue lights. "It can't be…Zelda, the last time I saw anything like this…"

"The Twilight?" Zelda filled in. "But why? How?"

"I don't know," Link admitted, beginning to panic. When the land had been covered in Twilight magic, in a time that seemed longer ago than it was, it had transformed every living being into an intangible spirit, unable to be sensed by the ordinary human eye. Link and Zelda had always been safe, relatively. Link had, in the past, undergone a rather intense transformation into the body of a wolf, and that didn't seem to be the case this time. They each wielded part of the Triforce within their spirits, hers of Wisdom and his of Courage: gifts from the goddesses. This mighty force protected them from the warp of the Twilight, and it seemed to be what was keeping them in human form at that moment. That much, they didn't need to say out loud.

A low chuckle broke into the air; Link and Zelda both gasped as they looked up at the door to the throne room. Storming in upon heavy footsteps was the last person they had thought they would see again.

Ganondorf gave them both a smirk as he surveyed his work. Behind him, to one side, Ursula flitted in, circling Ganondorf once before settling down on clouds of Darkness she formed in midair with her bare hands, tossing a sphere of it up and down like she was about to toss a simple snowball. At Ganondorf's other flank, Cinder Fall's glass heels clinked against the stone of the castle floors.

"The Triforce still protects you," Ganondorf observed.

"Are these two going to be a problem, honey?" Ursula asked, catching the sphere of Darkness repeatedly.

Cinder gave a single "hmph" of smug laughter. "They don't look like much."

"They were responsible for the demise your master retrieved me from," Ganondorf explained, "but their victory was by a bare margin. Besides, we have already stripped them of one of their most powerful weapons."

"What do you want?" Zelda snapped.

"What do we want?" Cinder repeated mockingly. "What do you think, Princess?"

"That throne does look very comfortable," Ursula said gleefully. "It's too bad I won't be the one sitting on it."

"You are the last obstacle standing in my way," Ganondorf informed the pair, "and you shall learn this time not to defy the king of light and shadow. Unless, of course, you perish before the lesson sinks in."

Link had had enough talk. He withdrew his sword, flying at Ganondorf with a wild cry.

He was stopped when the floor between him and Ganondorf exploded upon contact with the sphere Ursula had finally stopped juggling and thrown. Link was thrown backward, sword dislodged from his hand as his back hit the throne. He struggled to stand, ready to draw another one of his tricks upon these invaders.

Zelda reached out with her spirit, expecting to contact the four spirits of Light. However, she recoiled, finding a sudden emptiness where her connection with each of them once had been. It was as if Ordona, Faron, Eldin, and Lanayru had disappeared.

"Is something wrong?" Ganondorf taunted as he advanced upon her. "Something missing? No, not missing. Changed. No longer do the spirits serve your Light. They are composed of pure Darkness, and they bow to our whims."

"You lie," Zelda accused.

"It is the truth," Ganondorf insisted. "Four generals of our choosing stand beside them, encouraging them to spread destruction."

"No one could withstand this Twilight!" Zelda cried. "No one but you!"

"And yet you see two others who do," Ganondorf told her. He raised his fist, clenching it so the back of his hand was in full view; the golden mark of the Triforce gleamed upon it. "Do you understand?"

"The Triforce of Power," Zelda realized. "You lent them the – "

Before she could say another word, Ganondorf had grown close enough to seize her by the neck with both fists. And Zelda, deprived of her connection to the spirits, had no Light magic with which to fight back.

While Zelda and Ganondorf had conversed, Link had withdrawn a heavy ball on a chain, twirling it above his head for a few rotations before lobbing it directly at Cinder. He was taken off guard when Cinder lifted off the ground, leaving only empty space where the ball had been thrown; her eyes glowed with bright fire.

"That's a cute trick," she taunted. "I think I'll borrow it." Shards of obsidian swirled around her, congealing into the shape of a large sphere the size of Link's new weapon, a chain trailing from its edge. Cinder hefted up the chain, spinning the ball once over her head before slamming it down upon Link's weapon; the heavy metal ball cracked upon impact with Cinder's projectile.

Link fumbled for his bow next, loading and loosing an arrow with a lit bomb attached. Ursula simply backhanded it, letting it explode against the ceiling. Link aimed again, but Cinder and Ursula were making figure eights in the air, not keeping stationary enough or moving slowly enough for him to make a solid choice in aim. Hoping for the best, Link let another arrow fly. It too hit the ceiling.

"This game of catfish and mouse is entertaining," Ursula remarked, "but I think it's time we get to the good part." She gathered two clouds of Darkness in her hands, molding them into projectiles.

Before Link could react, he had been blasted with both, his body wracked with pain as he was slammed against the floor. He was altogether surprised none of his bones had broken.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see tiny flames lighting up around him, sustaining themselves on the stone. But, more importantly, he saw Ganondorf's fists wrap around Zelda's neck. She was punching and kicking for all she was worth, striking Ganondorf's midsection again and again, but the Triforce of Power lent him enough strength that her efforts were equivalent to beating up a stone statue.

It happened almost by instinct. Link withdrew a grappling clawshot, aiming it carefully.

While Ganondorf had strength that far surpassed that of mortals, he still was not prepared to receive a grappling hook directly to the face. Reeling and shaking his head so as not to have its blades dug into his eyes, Ganondorf loosened his grip on Zelda.

Link gave that clawshot up for dead, just as he had done with the heavy ball and his iron sword. He always did prefer to travel with a pair of clawshots, however, having discovered both on his last adventure. And it was this second he pointed at the edge of one of the cutaway windows. It hooked on; Link engaged the chain to pull him toward it.

He sped away from the ring of fire Cinder created just before it flared up, engulfing what was now empty space. Cinder gritted her teeth and growled.

Link extended an arm as he sped toward the window; it wrapped around Zelda's waist. Ganondorf, still off guard from the grappling hook to the face, let go of her; Link clutched her tightly as they careened to the window together. Once they reached it, the pair, working in tandem, positioned themselves on the other side of the clawshot without moving the tool, extending its chain to rappel down the side of the castle.

"NO!" Cinder seethed as she soared toward the same window.

Link let go of the clawshot once he'd reached a parapet below; he and Zelda broke into a run, disappearing in the labyrinthine gables of the castle.

As Cinder became more and more heated, this time in the metaphorical sense, Ursula floated up behind her to pat her condescendingly on the back. "There, there, sweetie. Everyone loses a nemesis every once in a while. Of course, few of them have as much power as you and still manage to waste it – "  
"YOU WERE THERE TOO!" Cinder rounded on Ursula. "THEY ESCAPED YOU TOO! AND WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"Please, angelfish," Ursula said coldly, "let's not start anything else we can't finish."

"I…HAD…THEM…"

"Forget about them," Ursula told her. "We'll catch up with them later. They're the only two people alive in this entire world who don't work with us. They won't be hard to find. For now, just relax!" She reclined in the air. "Enjoy the spoils!"

Ganondorf wasted no time planting himself upon the throne. "This is where I was meant to be," he announced.

"If you think small," Ursula told him.

"And what does that mean?" Ganondorf asked.

"This is still part of the test," Ursula reminded him. "If all goes well here, more thrones await."

"And how long before we move upon them?" Ganondorf asked.

"We have to prove ourselves," Ursula told him. "By which I mostly mean you have to prove yourself. Three days. If we can hold this position for three days, we'll call it a success. Though, really, the sand already worked, so no matter what, we've won."

"And those…that PAIR?" Cinder growled.

"Sweep the city for them all you want," Ursula told her. "Like I said, they won't be hard to find. Though I'll bet they're on their way outside the city limits. We'll need to get the word out to our four friends. I'm guessing one of them will have the honor of bringing them down."

"Three days," Ganondorf repeated. "Such a short span. It will pass quickly. Send word to our generals, Ursula. We shouldn't leave any loose ends."

"But really, what are they going to do?" Ursula teased. "Unbending reality isn't an easy task."

"That is true," Ganondorf agreed. "To transform the spirits back to their former state would be an impossible feat."

"It should at least be amusing to watch them try," Cinder said as she lowered herself to touch shoes to the floor with a clink. Her mood was still sour, but improving. "We'll have to have the generals report to us just how hard they tried."

"It's going to be a good three days," Ursula chuckled."

...

The Gerudo Desert was also suddenly shrouded in Twilight, leaving Mozenrath, Wuya, and Irmaplotz quite confused to what had just happened to everyone else standing with them atop the Arbiter's Grounds.

"Where…did…?" Mozenrath wondered out loud, properly confused.

Irmaplotz pressed a hand to her forehead. "They're hiding for a surprise party, aren't they? I can't take another surprise party. Not after last time."

"They're not planning a surprise party," Wuya said dryly. "Why would you think they were planning a surprise party?"

"BECAUSE I WAS TRAUMATIZED, SO MY MIND GOES TO THE WORST-CASE SCENARIO," Irmaplotz answered.

"The answer might actually be simpler," Wuya observed, looking around at the five blue lights that flickered in midair. "After all, you don't go looking for phoenixes if there are cranes around." She passed a hand through one of the spirits. "Hm. You know, I'm used to this being the other way around. But that's definitely him."

"Him who?" Mozenrath asked, growing suspicious.

"Torchwick," Wuya answered. "And judging by the number of spirits around him, we also have…" She paced around the collective, waving a hand through each spirit to read their thoughts. "Zevon…Demyx…Yzma…and Hans."

"What HAPPENED to them?" Mozenrath demanded angrily.

"What do the three of us have in common that they don't?" Wuya asked.

Irmaplotz opened her mouth -

"Don't answer; I'm being rhetorical."

Irmaplotz swallowed her words.

"The three of us are tied to the Darkness through magic," Wuya observed. "Be glad you're wearing that gauntlet, Mozenrath, or you'd end up like the rest of them. A large part of the world was just blanketed in pure Darkness – "

"No," Mozenrath realized, "it's not pure Darkness. It feels…different. Like a half-Darkness."

"Twilight, then," Wuya redefined. "Actually…given what I know about Hyrule, that makes more sense. Yes, Twilight. A large part of the world was just blanketed in Twilight, and anyone not used to bathing in Dark magic on a daily basis was deconstructed into spirit form. I'm almost jealous that I didn't get to join the party."

"They don't look like they're partying," Mozenrath observed.

"Can we STOP TALKING ABOUT PARTIES?" Irmaplotz begged.

"Well, right now, they can't interact with the physical world," Wuya pointed out. "Hence the 'almost.' I'm pretty sure the only reason they're hanging around is because they know we know they're there. Most people wouldn't."

"Are they dead?" Mozenrath asked.

"No," Wuya answered. "Well, not technically. So don't get all worked up about it."

"I'm not getting worked up about it," Mozenrath told her. "I'm just curious if necromancy would work on them."

Wuya shrugged. "Might as well try it."

Mozenrath held out his hand, palm up, before clenching it into a fist. Electric blue crackled around his curled fingers, splashing out into a pulsating burst with a crashing sound. Wuya and Irmaplotz instinctively backed off.

Pain shot through Mozenrath from the wrist backward, and he bit his lower lip almost hard enough to draw blood. The blue lights expanded, shaping themselves into more solid form before coming into full color.

" – NOW? CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?" Roman was shouting as he returned to the physical realm in human form.

"No," Irmaplotz replied. "Try again."

"Dammit," Roman muttered. He waved a hand in front of her face; "HEL-LO! CAN YOU…" It then sank in what she'd said. "Oh, ha ha. Hilarious."

"We've regenerized!" Zevon realized.

"Okay, can we take what just happened and never do it again?" Demyx asked.

"At least Mozenrath fixed it," Yzma sighed.

"Pretty talented, there," Hans remarked as he approached Mozenrath, who was lowering his hand. "Did you just perform five full-on resurrections by just using your mind?"

"And the gauntlet," Mozenrath said as he lowered his hand, letting himself breathe more evenly. His hand dropped to his side, and he let the magic dissipate.

The moment he did, he saw the change ripple through Hans, Roman, Yzma, Zevon, and Demyx; they winced, starting to lose solidity.

Mozenrath quickly sent a surge of magic back into his hand, and their expressions grew more comfortable. He couldn't let up, he realized. He had to keep his spell going in the background, or else they would collapse into spirit form again. There was no way he'd be able to concentrate on necromancy as well as doing and thinking other things, but he found a workaround: a way to phrase the spell in his mind to confine it to his hand and not move, as though locked in place by a barrier. That seemed to work.

"Are you all right?" Yzma asked worriedly.

"I'm fine," Mozenrath said through gritted teeth. The problem with keeping the spell that gave his friends human form in his hand meant there was always some degree of hurt in the background of his body, as though he had just the very ends of pins stuck into his skin, threatening to press deep. "Fine," he repeated, forcing his mouth to relax, putting the mild pain on the back burner. "A little constant pain never killed anyone."

"Is that from keeping us here?" Yzma asked.

"Yes," Mozenrath admitted. "Would you rather NOT be here?"

"Well, you COULD undo whatever did this Twilight, then come back for us," Yzma told him.

"NO!" Mozenrath snapped. "There are too many variables in that plan. We're doing this my way, and you're staying like that."

"Wow," Hans remarked. "You're pretty passionate about this. Especially since you're counting me, and ten minutes ago, you were ready to filet me over a mirror that can't be built."

"You haven't proven yourself yet," Mozenrath told Hans. The pain was getting easier to ignore the longer he put up with it. "I at least needed to give you a chance to fail miserably."

"Well, thank you," Hans replied coyly. "If that's really what you're expecting of me, I hope not to live up to your expectations."

Mozenrath found himself far too distracted by the smile upon Hans' face at that moment: so coy, so smug. Not unlike what he saw in the mirror on a good day. He felt that much more confident in his decision to keep the man around based on that smile alone, for it silently spoke of the ambitions of the man who bore it.

"Something wrong?" Hans asked, still smiling. Mozenrath realized Hans had become aware of how much he was holding Mozenrath's attention before Mozenrath himself had figured it out.

"Besides the shroud of Twilight covering as much of the known world that we can see?" Mozenrath retorted immediately.

"Well, obviously we've got to figure out who is behind this and how to reverse it," Yzma brought up.

"Yeah, that sounds like way too much work," Demyx sighed.

"Mozenrath is literally dying to keep you in the physical plane!" Yzma reminded him.

"I am FINE," Mozenrath urged. "What we NEED is to figure out how to get into the Twilight Realm from here. Though…Twilight Realm. Twilight magic. There could be a connection here."

"This better not be leading up to anything related to that unicorn," Wuya said teasingly.

"Can we all just collectively forget about the unicorn?" Mozenrath sighed with an upturn of the eyes. "If we figure out who had access to so much Twilight magic and where they got it, we could have a direct route to where we need to go."

"So where do we start looking?" Yzma wondered out loud.

Hans flinched, noticing something almost imperceptible in the distance as he looked back over Mozenrath's shoulder at the view over Hyrule. He raised an indicating finger. "That might be a start."

All others turned to take a look at Hans' sight of interest. A great polygonal wall of pure Darkness had erected itself around the Hyrule castle, large enough to be seen from the distance.

"Barriers like that go up for two reasons," Mozenrath related. "To keep things out and to keep things in. The timing can't be a coincidence. All right. The search begins."

"All of us?" Demyx groaned.

"Why NOT all of us?" Mozenrath demanded.

"Because, uh…" Demyx fumbled for a better reason than "I don't want to." He came up with "It might not be safe! The person that cast that spell is obviously powerful. They already wiped out all but three of us in one shot! Somebody should stay back in case something happens to the others."

"As much as I know you're just trying to get out of doing the dirty work," Mozenrath mused, "you do have a point. True, there's safety in numbers, but there's also safety in having a backup network. We'll start small. A team of two or three who are best suited to reconnaissance. If that team doesn't return in, say, three hours, we'll break out the rest of the search party."

"I can't find any flaws in this plan," Yzma said with a shrug.

"And if my mother approvalates of it," Zevon asserted, "then it must be a good plan!"

"No comment," Roman muttered.

"So who's the lucky team?" Irmaplotz asked.

"Well, it would have to include someone who knows the lay of the land," Mozenrath thought out loud. "That brings us down to Hans or Wuya, and only one of those has earned my trust AND proven herself in battle time after time. Wuya, you'll go."

"I'll snoop around," Wuya said with a nod. "See what I can find. Not to mention I'm the only one who can read the spirits that will be floating around town."

"As for the rest of the team," Mozenrath realized, "we'd need someone to accompany Wuya who knows how to break in and out of a dangerous area without being seen. Someone practiced at the art of gathering information and slinking about in the shadows. Someone who, maybe, just maybe, made a living out of that before coming to work with us. Given his résumé, I think Demyx is the EXACT person to send on this mission."

"WHAT?" Demyx sputtered. "You're…no, you're sending the wrong guy!"

"Didn't you once get on and off Mount Olympus without getting caught?" Mozenrath reminded him.

"Well, yeah, but – "

"And was Vexen exaggerating when he said you were suited for the Organization's recon missions?"

"No, but – "

"And do you honestly think," Mozenrath concluded, "that I could send anyone else here without them setting off a chain reaction of explosions that would draw attention?"

"Oh, come on," Demyx urged, "it's not like Roman would literally blow things up!"

"No, he kind of hit the nail on the head there," Roman admitted.

"But what about Yzma? Or Zevon?" Demyx begged.

"I…sometimes instigate the accidental explosion," Yzma confessed.

"I think I have two explosionate potions on my belt right now," Zevon added. "Or is it three…?"

"These are seriously your friends?" Hans asked Mozenrath.

"I ask myself the same question on a daily basis," Mozenrath replied. "And somehow, the answer is yes. Would you believe I don't have any regrets to date? Except maybe Demyx."

"Speaking of," Wuya broke in, "the sooner we gut Castle Town, the sooner we can solve our little mystery." She clapped Demyx on the back. "Come on, water boy. Let's get a move on."

"Are you KIDDING ME?" Demyx asked in a panic. "We're going to get slaughtered down there!"

"If you think anything is going to slaughter me," Wuya told him, "you haven't been paying attention. And you're my ticket in and out, so you're not getting slaughtered on my watch." She cast a Corridor that led into the thoroughfare of Castle Town. "Now move it or lose it."

Demyx pointed suspiciously at the Corridor. "Where does that lead?"

"Downtown – "

"Okay, no," Demyx sighed. "You're just going to walk right into a trap. Take us to the edge of town. Or, even better, outside it. If you're going to make me do this, you're going to do this my way."

"Now, that's more like it." Wuya dismissed the Corridor and raised another. "Lead the way."

"I may have gotten myself killed," Demyx grumbled as he stormed through, "but I only got myself killed ONCE, which was pretty impressive for everything they put me through!"

Wuya gave the others one last shrug before disappearing after him. The Corridor dissolved.

"And now we wait," Mozenrath summed, with a glance out toward Castle Town as if he could see Wuya and Demyx moving about in the streets, which, of course, he couldn't.

"Sooooooo," Roman brought up, already having a conversation topic in mind. "I was wondering about the clothes."

"What clothes?" Yzma asked.

"The clothes we were wearing before we went all…ghosty," Roman clarified. "Where did they go?"

"I don't know," Mozenrath groaned. "Is it important?"

"Well, yeah," Roman urged. "Do we get the same clothes back when you bring us back? This goes for in general."

"No," Mozenrath told him. "They're manifestations drawn from your last living memory. Which was not an easy part of the spell to master, but it does beat bringing everyone back naked."

"So you're saying Archie's coat is NOT the same one he died in," Roman concluded.

"No," Mozenrath confirmed. "That would be literally impossible."

"You don't know how attached he is to that coat," Roman emphasized. "If he knew about this…he's not going to know about this. Not unless he figures it out on his own. Which he probably will. And then you're going to pay for it."

"I'm ready," Mozenrath said casually.

"Though, more importantly," Roman went on, "this is not the same hat I died in. This is not the same hat I disappeared in. This is, twice over, NOT MY HAT."

"Is that going to be a problem?" Mozenrath asked.

"IS THAT GOING TO BE A PROBLEM?" Roman mocked. "You have no IDEA what my hat and I have been through together!"

"This really isn't my problem," Mozenrath sighed.

"Yeah, well, it's a problem you caused," Roman accused.

"And what do you want me to do?" Mozenrath asked. "Go find the exact Grimm that ate you, cut it open, and repair your hat from the damage done to it by its digestive fluids?"

"Well, you can bring PEOPLE back from the dead," Roman urged. "Why not hats?"

"Hats don't have souls."

"Can you scientifically prove that?"

"Yes."

Roman gave an exaggerated sigh. "Well, then. We're at an impasse."

"You have A hat," Mozenrath reminded him. "That's going to have to be good enough."

"It is a stylish hat," Yzma complimented.

Roman swiped the hat off his head, looking it over. After some deliberation, he said "You'll do" and settled it back over his hair.

...

"All right, everyone," Stork announced from the helm of the Gummi ship. "We're approaching Hyrule."

"OUR NEXT ADVENTURE BEGINS!" Papyrus said excitedly. "WERE I LESS COMPOSED, I WOULD BE READY TO BURST WITH ANTICIPATION! BUT I'M NOT, SO I'M NOT."

"Well, I'm excited!" Katara said outright. She sat next to Ruby, giving the girl in red a look of concern. Ruby was slumped in her seat, hands fiddling with Crescent Rose folded on her lap and her gaze fixed on her hands. "Hey…are you okay?" Katara asked.

"Yeah," Ruby said halfheartedly, "I'm fine."

"What's wrong, Ruby?" Jasmine asked. "You can tell us anything."

"I know," Ruby sighed. "It's just…things we all knew already. After all this time, I'm not sure I can face Cinder. I know last time I did, I won because of a power I still don't understand and don't even know how to control. That shouldn't even matter, because this time, I'm surrounded by friends who've helped me take down things that were probably worse. And I've always known we should keep moving forward for the sake of those we haven't lost yet. But then I think about actually looking Cinder in the eye, and it scares me."

"I sure don't blame you for being scared," Stork told her. "I would be too. Actually, scratch that. I already am. But…heheh…you probably all guessed that."

"You can do it, Ruby," Sora assured her. "I know you can. After everything I've seen you do, this is gonna be a piece of cake for you."

"It doesn't feel like cake," Ruby argued. "Unless you count the part where if you eat too much of it and it makes you nauseous. This is the person who killed Pyrrha right in front of my eyes."

"It's not about not being scared," Aladdin told her. "It's about getting in there anyway and making them think you're not scared. That always works for me."

"We all have demons to face," Riku added. "Sometimes they're on the inside, and sometimes they're on the outside. But the only way we can beat them is to do exactly what you said: look them in the eye."

"You'll all be there, right?" Ruby asked, lifting her head.

"OF COURSE!" Papyrus chirped.

"We're in it together until the end!" Sora added.

"You know," Katara suggested, "if it's really that hard for you to face…we could even do it without you. As long as we made sure you were somewhere safe, we could go find Cinder and take her in for you."

"And by 'take her in,'" Stork asked for clarification, "you mean…"

"Aang wouldn't want us to kill her," Katara said sternly. "We need to find a way to disable the powers you said she has and take her back to Radiant Garden. Or to your world. Wherever she can be locked up and looked after."

"Disabling her power is going to be difficult," Riku pointed out. "If the Fall Maiden really has as much power as you say she does, it won't be easy to just shut off."

"But we'll find a way," Aladdin said reassuringly. "There's ALWAYS a way."

"So what do you think?" Katara asked. "Should we just get you comfortable on the ship and bring Cinder back for you?"

"NO!" Ruby blurted. "It's really scary for sure. But it's something I HAVE to do. I HAVE to be there to stop her. I have to do it for Jaune and for Pyrrha and for all of Beacon. I don't want to fight her alone. But I know this is my fight."

"Then we're in it together," Jasmine asserted.

"Uhm…" Stork broke in from the helm. "We may have run into a slight problem."

"Problem?" Sora repeated.

Stork stepped back from the dashboard and gestured out the window. Before the ship, a world was visible, but with no discernible features. It was encased in a globe of dusky gray, swirling and writhing with traces of yellow. "I don't think Hyrule is supposed to look like that," Stork announced.

Riku gaped. "It's completely covered in Darkness." He strained to get a better look. "I…think it's Darkness, anyway."

"Is it safe to land?" Jasmine wondered out loud.

"I dunno," Sora replied. "I heard bad things happen to the people who just run into the realm of Darkness without magic to protect them. Riku and I were fine, but we were only there for a little while. Master Yen Sid said we were lucky it wasn't worse. A whole world covered in Darkness might not be the best idea to just land on."

"We're probably just safer turning around and going home," Stork suggested.

"STORK!" Papyrus scolded. "AFTER WE CAME ALL THE WAY HERE!"

"We're not giving up!" Ruby insisted.

"Look, I'm not even sure this is the right place anymore!" Stork argued. "This is the spot Merlin said Hyrule would be, but we can't even get close enough to tell if that's Hyrule! And if it is, no one said Cinder would still be there if it was covered in Darkness! She's probably in as much danger as we would be!"

"Not if she was tied to the Darkness," Riku mused, closing his eyes to think. After a pause, he gave a nod, then opened his eyes. "I was tied to the Darkness once. And Darkness still lingers within me. I never was able to leave it all behind. It might be safe for me to walk on that world. But only me."

"Are you sure that's safe?" Katara said worriedly.

"It's the only option we have right now," Riku reminded his cohorts. "I should go alone onto that world. If I find a safe way to bring the rest of you down, I'll come back. If I haven't found a way and it's been a while, I'll still come back. If it's been too long…then go back to Radiant Garden to ask for help."

"I don't really like this," Aladdin admitted.

"Well, I think it'll be fine," Sora insisted, reaching over to give Riku's hand a squeeze. "If Riku thinks he can do it, then I know he can do it!"

Riku responded by bestowing Sora with a look of affection. "I don't know for sure. But I have a good feeling. I'll be careful. I know I have a good reason to come back safe." He then faced forward; "Stork? Can you get the ship close enough to the atmosphere to drop me off?"  
"That's going to be a pretty long fall," Stork told him.

"I know how to handle long falls," Riku insisted. "You don't get to be a Keyblade Master without learning that."

"And how exactly are you going to get back up to us?" Stork asked.

"Well…" Riku turned around to look at Aladdin. "I'll just do what a certain good friend of mine would do: I'll improvise."

"Now, that's what I like to hear," Aladdin told him.

All the while, Riku hadn't let go of Sora's hand, nor vice versa, and neither wanted to be the one to disentangle fingers. They met each other's gaze, holding it before Riku flashed Sora a bright smile. "I'll be okay," he asserted.

"I know you will," Sora replied. "I just…don't want to let go."

"Then think about when I come back," Riku told him.

Sora finally removed his hand from Riku's to give him a salute and an "Aye-aye!"

"Preparing to get in position for dropoff," Stork announced, moving the ship closer to the Twilight-bound world.

Riku stood, crossing to the door. "I'm ready," he said decisively.

...

Lie Ren tucked himself away in one of the highest and smallest towers of the Radiant Garden castle, in a round room that was adorned only by some simple benches with cushions. It was a suitable aesthetic for his purpose. He cracked open the book he'd found in the library and began on the first page.

Twenty pages later, he became aware of the sound of approaching footsteps. His head snapped upward; he beheld the sight of Madison entering the same room. "Oh," she said softly when she took in the sight of Ren. "Hi."

"Hey," Ren replied, puzzled.

"I didn't think I'd find anyone else up here," Madison said shyly.

"I didn't think anyone else would find me up here," Ren replied, his tone hushed as though he were in a public reading space. His eyes flicked to Madison's hand, where a thick book with a blue cover stood out. "Did you come up here to read that?"

"Yeah," Madison admitted. "It gets kind of loud in the library."

"Tell me about it," Ren sighed. "It's great that we have the library to use as a meeting space for important discussions or a relaxation space for playing games. But so many people are using it for those things that we've pretty much forgotten that libraries are supposed to be quiet places for reading. When I was down there picking out this book, Leon was having some kind of strategy meeting with Cid and Merlin, and it was impossible to concentrate, so I just set out to find the quietest part of the castle there was."

"Me too," Madison admitted. "They're still having that meeting, except Kairi and Lea have joined up with them, and for some reason, this involved Lea showing off his new Keyblade and demonstrating battle moves in the middle of the room. I wanted someplace I wouldn't be disturbed. You don't mind if I join you, do you?"  
"I don't mind if you want a place to read," Ren told her, "but I'm really not in the mood to have a long chat or anything. I'm just getting into this book, and I want to focus on it."

"That's good," Madison told him. "This book looks really interesting, and I was hoping I could just concentrate on it. So how about you read and don't say anything, and I'll read and not say anything?"

"That actually sounds perfect," Ren told her.

She settled down on the bench opposite from Ren, pulling back the cover of her book. They spent the next half hour in total silence save for the turning of the pages, each disappearing into their own mental space prompted by the books.

They were both snapped out of it when a new set of footsteps, hurried and hard, approached at lightning speed, and both knew it wasn't another reader come to join the silence. "There you are!" Yuffie said when she came into view. "I've been trying to round everybody up, and you two were really hard to find!"

"That was on purpose," Ren told her, and Madison nodded agreement.

"Well, sorry to burst your bubble," Yuffie huffed, "but we have really, really important guests, and Leon and Kairi wanted them to meet everyone at once so they didn't have to go over their story five hundred times. Everyone's waiting in the library! Come on!"

Madison and Ren shut their books at last, standing to follow Yuffie. Yuffie started out with a run down the stairs, then doubled back when she realized Ren and Madison weren't keeping pace; the trio walked far too slow for Yuffie's liking.

"What were you reading?" Ren asked Madison, suddenly curious.

"Promise not to laugh?" she replied.

"I promise," Ren said sincerely.

"It's a romance novel," Madison told him. "I found it by chance in the library, and it looked really good from the first few pages. I know most romance novels are filled with gross subtext about relationships that would be dysfunctional in real life, but I still thought I'd give it a try in case this one was different, and so far, the way the main couple meets is really sweet."

"I'm glad you found something you like," Ren said with a nod. "I usually don't read romance myself, but that's mostly because of the problems you just mentioned. If this one is different, would you tell me by the time you finish it? I might want to read it."

"Of course," Madison said cheerily. "What about you? What were you reading?"

"Nonfiction, actually," Ren answered, "though it feels unbelievable. It's a basic textbook on the theory behind magic. I figured now that we're dealing with magic out in the open, I should know more about it. It's really fascinating. People really are capable of so much more than I thought was possible."

"Tell me about it," Madison replied. "Ever since I became a Mystic Ranger, magic has been my life, and everything just seems more unbelievable the longer we go on." Her face suddenly fell. "I wonder if I'll ever be able to use my magic like I used to again."

"I'm sure you will," Ren told her. "We'll find a way to get your wand back. And if we don't, there are probably plenty of other ways to amplify your powers. We are talking about an infinite number of worlds here with different magical rules and sources."

"That's true," Madison realized.

"Hey," Yuffie broke in, "are you two…?"

Ren and Madison waited for her to elaborate, but she left it there. "Are we bookworms?" Ren guessed. "I don't read nearly as much as a friend I knew back at Beacon…" He thought of Blake. "…but it's a pretty frequent hobby."

"No, no!" Yuffie corrected. "Are you two…YOU know?"

"Are we…introverts?" Madison filled in. "I know I've always felt more comfortable behind a camera than in front of it."

"No!" Yuffie shook her head. "Are you two a THING? Like, are you TOGETHER?"

This prompted a frantic chorus of "No, no!" from both Ren and Madison.

"We're just friends," Ren stated calmly. "We're still getting to know each other."

"I like someone else back in Briarwood, anyway," Madison added. Not that he would ever see her as more than a protégé, she added in her mind, but that didn't nullify her feelings.

"Well, I think you'd make a cute couple," Yuffie said enthusiastically.

"We're just going to have to disappoint you," Ren told her.

"Waaaiiiiit," Yuffie realized. "You…don't have a thing with NORA, do you?"  
"No," Ren said straightforwardly. "She's also just a friend. A lot of people make that mistake, though."

"GOOD," Yuffie said a little too energetically. "Well…good as in…I think you two have a great friendship, and I wouldn't want you to ruin it!"

Madison and Ren exchanged knowing looks, their mouths upturning into sly smiles. "I don't think you have to worry," Ren said, his words going to Yuffie as his eyes spoke to Madison of the knowledge they'd deduced about where Yuffie's feelings lay.

Everyone currently residing in or working out of the castle was gathering in the library, which Ren, Madison, and Yuffie entered through the upper door. Neither Ren nor Madison was prepared for the sight that awaited them in the room's center; from the second level, they could see down below that the esteemed guests were a short anthropomorphic mouse, a slightly taller duck, and a very tall dog.

"That's everyone!" Yuffie called out to Kairi, who waited below for Yuffie's signaling wave.

"Great!" Kairi said with a smile. "Everyone, this is King Mickey of Disney Town, royal knight Goofy, and court mage Donald Duck."

"Hi, everybody!" Mickey said with a wave and a look around the library.

"Pleased to meet ya!" Donald added.

"Sure is a lot of people here!" Goofy remarked.

"So." Kairi turned her attention back to Mickey. "You said you had a problem you wanted to talk about? Maybe we can help!"

"We sure do," Mickey affirmed. "A while ago, we were forced out of our own castle by a group of nasty villains. They were the ones who stole the Datascape."

"They're with Mozenrath," Kairi said in a sour tone.

"Exactly HOW much stuff going wrong was this guy responsible for?" Nora complained.

"Still not as much as Maleficent," Nick reminded her.

"The thing is, we expect Maleficent to be doing everything she's doing," Lea explained. "She's always been there from the start. These people with Mozenrath came out of nowhere."

"All save that confounded Mim," Merlin huffed. "I never would have thought she'd gain actual allies! But we're getting quite off track. Do continue, your majesty!"

"Well, they used your Claymores to chase us all out," Mickey explained. "We've been tryin' to work on a solution to get everybody back into the castle and make it safe again. The problem is as soon as any one of us gets near it, the Claymores go berserk and attack."

"That's not the only problem!" Donald huffed, folding his arms. "The Claymores don't target humans, so you'd think we could just send somebody human in to fix it! But nooooooo! We can't disable the Claymores without some kinda password!"

"Or figurin' out how to crack them," Goofy added.

"HACK them," Donald corrected.

"So we'd kinda just been stayin' in town and feelin' real down about it for a while," Mickey went on. "But then I remembered! Back when I visited Ansem, the REAL Ansem, he and I set up the central computer in his lab space to hook up to Disney Castle so we could keep in contact and share our discoveries! I just might be able to use that computer to link back to Disney Castle's system and turn off the Claymores!"

"Except we still don't have that password," Donald grumbled.

"But at least here," Kairi assured, "you'd have enough time to work it out without Claymores attacking you."

"So whaddaya say?" Mickey asked. "Can we give it a shot?"

"Of course!" Kairi said gladly. "And you can meet the rest of the team, too!"

"I'm sure we've got a lot of stories to swap!" Mickey laughed.

"Well," Kairi said, "just to start out…"

She began detailing brief introductions to everyone in the library. Once names had at least been traded, the majority of the group moved off to the laboratory to begin work on the mysterious password.

...

Demyx and Wuya crept stealthily into Castle Town, keeping to the alleys. "Stay in the shadows," Demyx whispered.

Wuya gave him a nod, and together, they darted through the shade.

Blue spirits flickered up throughout every street. Wuya flicked a hand through light after light, coming up with nothing. "They're just as confused as we are," she noted.

"There has to be somebody here who knows something," Demyx groaned. "And they better turn up fast, because this place is giving me the creeps!"

On and on they went, finding nothing. Wuya suggested searching the main roads, but Demyx pooh-poohed that idea, insisting it was safer to stay in the side streets.

"And if the ones who know what happened aren't staying to the side streets?" Wuya retorted.

"Well…I guess we could take some risks if it's been too long," Demyx relented.

As they continued, Demyx suddenly said, "Hey, can I ask a personal question?"

"You can ask," Wuya told him. "I can't guarantee you'll get an answer."

"Really, what's your story with the guy who used to be the boss of this place?" Demyx inquired.

"Does it really need that much explanation?" Wuya replied. "Simple story. Boy meets girl. Boy and girl try to outdo each other in progressively grander acts of evil. Boy and girl end up impressing each other instead, boy and girl end up in bed together, boy and girl fight like a married couple; one day, girl realizes boy isn't fighting fair anymore and decides to fight unfair right back. Boy calls girl too flamboyant, girl realizes she's bored with boy's austerity, boy and girl hate each other, and boy and girl break up."

"Well, there's your problem," Demyx pointed out. "Why would you get with somebody you hated?"

"Love and hate aren't opposites," Wuya told him. "Not that what we had was ever love. But rivalry means you have an interest in what each other is doing."

"Yeah, but it wasn't a good interest," Demyx observed. "Why wouldn't you just wait for somebody who was more like you? Somebody who was less boring and more flashy?"

"I suppose if I were to try and enter a real commitment again, that would be the sensible thing to look for, wouldn't it?" Wuya admitted. "But I've learned my lesson about commitments. Friends are fine. Lovers are more work than I need."

"I hear that," Demyx agreed.

"…You hear that?" Wuya said, suddenly alert.

"Yeah, I do," Demyx told her. "I just said so – "

"No!" Wuya hissed. "Do you HEAR that?"

It was a small sound: an insistent clink, clink, clink. A "clink" that couldn't possibly have been made by any lingering spirits.

"Hide!" Wuya snapped.

Demyx was already cowering behind a pile of crates. Wuya joined him, peering around the edge.

Cinder stalked down the street perpendicular to them both, gaze fixed forward rather than on the alley. Even if Demyx and Wuya had been standing in front of the crates, Cinder wouldn't have seen them. Wuya sized her up as she watched her pass, briefly contemplating starting a skirmish and then thinking better of it. They waited ten minutes after Cinder had passed the alley to creep out of hiding.

"Keeping to the side streets was a good move after all," Wuya remarked.

"I told you!" Demyx insisted. "So who was it?"

"Someone I fought before," Wuya answered.

"Was she better than you?"

"I could take her if I had to. But right now, it's better to keep a low profile." Wuya gave Demyx a pointed look. "You know, you remind me of one of my former co-workers."

"Oh yeah?" Demyx replied. "In a good way or in a bad way?"  
"Bad."

"Oh."

"He was just like you in a lot of ways," Wuya elaborated. "He was whiny, scared of his own shadow, and completely tactless. But you have a lot of advantages he doesn't."

"Really?"

"You're smarter than you let on," Wuya remarked. "More powerful, too. He had book smarts, but no head for the streets. You seem to be the other way around. You could actually make something of yourself if you wanted. Stick with us, and we could make you a bona fide evildoer. We could make your name one to be feared."

"Huh," Demyx replied. "You could really make something outta me? Nobody's ever even thought I had potential before. Xemnas just wanted me because I didn't have a heart and that's it."

"Well, you've got potential to spare," Wuya told him. "You could be a monster."

"I don't know if I wanna be a monster," Demyx admitted. "I just wanted a normal life where nobody bugged me."

"Who needs that?" Wuya urged him. "You could have infamy and fortune! You could rule your own country and strike fear into the hearts of goody-two-shoes! You could be respected!" She held up and clenched a hand for effect.

"Respect sounds nice," Demyx admitted. "Speaking of, this is the nicest any of you have been to me since I joined your army. I kinda thought you all hated me."

"Like I said, you're tactless and whiny," Wuya reminded Demyx. "But you're one of ours now, so we're taking responsibility for you. I'm personally making sure you don't die out here on this mission."

"So if that person with the clicky shoes from earlier tried to kill me," Demyx asked, "you'd protect me?"

"Of course. Don't be stupid. Assuming, of course, you'd do the same for me."

"…Yeah," Demyx said after far too long of a pause. "Totally."

Wuya was unconvinced, but shrugged it off. She didn't need him to defend her anyway. "Just keep moving."

They resolved it was safer to enter the main roads now that they'd seen Cinder pass by; she would probably assume that everything she'd passed was clear, so as long as they traveled down the direction from which she had come, they would be relatively protected. It was down that route that Wuya found the floating spirits of Shad, Ashei, Auru, and Rusl, who had all made it out of the castle and were aimlessly seeking help in every direction.

When she read their memory of recent events, she was frozen, eyes wide.

"What?" Demyx asked. "What did you find?"

Wuya began to laugh. A low chuckle at first, but it grew and grew.

"WHAT?" Demyx asked again, now very concerned.

"I see how it is," Wuya said cryptically. "He wants to play the game again. He's already set up the board, and he thinks he's winning. Well, I'm about to shuffle the deck."

"I think you mixed metaphors," Demyx informed her.

Wuya cast a Corridor. "We're going back to the desert."

"You know what's going on?"

"Oh, I know EXACTLY what's going on." Wuya punctuated this with a giggle. "Things are about to get interesting."

...

Radiant Garden's metropolitan area was practically littered with weapons shops, and they fared quite well, given the general clientele of the town. In one such weapons shop, located near the edge of the city, shopkeeper Groeb Bearman finished polishing the last sword hung up on the edge of a rack.

The deep clearing of a throat brought his attention to the front counter. Somehow, a pair of customers had arrived at the shop without Groeb even noticing. One was tall, bulky, a crooked black top hat balanced atop his head to offset his black ensemble and even blacker beard, contrasting his pale complexion. The other, female in appearance, had skin a shade more tan than her companion but long golden hair far lighter than his; she was clothed in gold and white, with an ankle-length skirt.

"Yes, yes," the bearded one said in a voice with a heavy accent that one from an Earth territory might have called Russian. "This is place. This will do."

"Can I help you?" Groeb asked.

"Yeah," the golden-haired one said in a soft tone, her accent identifiable to American by anyone who recognized the other as Russian. "Whaddaya got for weapons?"

"This…entire shop is weapons," Groeb offered up.

"Yes, yes, can see that," the bearded man said with a wave of his hand. "We are adventurers from far-off lands. Are looking for weapons to defend selves from Heartless." He let his eyes travel over the selection. "Yes…that." He pointed directly at a double-edged axe with blades of jet black. "That will do."

"Do you wanna hear any of the specs?" Groeb asked. "Attack, defense – "

"No, no, already know is what I want," the bearded man insisted.

"I like the looks of that one," the customer draped in gold said as she pointed to a broadsword with a glimmering golden sheen. "That's not real gold, is it?"

"Of course not," Groeb assured her. "Real gold would buckle in a fight. Not to mention be far too expensive for the average weaponry seeker. That's gold-plated mythril. It's heavy-duty. You know, that one actually amplifies any pre-existing fire magic – "

"Sold," the golden-haired customer said decisively.

Groeb wrapped up both weapons, then waved to the pair of customers as they took their purchases away. "You know where to go if you need more!" Groeb called out.

Once they were out of earshot, Snatcher, settling the sheath of his newly acquired axe upon his back, hissed, "You're going to give the game away."

"He didn't suspect a thing," Garfield said with a toss of his golden wig.

"I've told you a hundred times, you've got to pick a different accent!" Snatcher insisted.

"And I've told YOU a hundred times I can't actually do any accents!" Garfield snapped back. "My voice is fine. That guy bought it." He sheathed his new sword in his belt.

"I don't see why you were so concerned about the composition of your weapon's metal," Snatcher went on. "They're only for show. To sell the façade, so to speak."

"Yeah, well, try saying that again when we get caught up in a fight without our real gear," Garfield argued.

"Can you even wield a sword?"

"Can YOU wield an AXE?"

"Touché."

They entered the main square; the castle towered on the horizon. "Our foray begins," Snatcher announced.

"Lead the way, Dad," Garfield teased with a nudge to Snatcher's upper arm.

...

An insistent knock came at the door to Neo's quarters. Neo set the book she'd been reading aside to answer it, finding Scarlet on the other side.

"Neo!" Scarlet chirped. "I have a surprise for you!"

Neo cocked her head quizzically.

"Come on!" Scarlet seized Neo's arm and began to drag her down the hall. It was curiosity and affection for Scarlet that prompted Neo to let her do such a thing. "I know it's hard for you to dance around Snatcher's allergy," Scarlet explained on the way, "so, now that he's out of the base, Herb and I whipped up a little something we think you'll enjoy."

That heightened Neo's curiosity. She now actively walked to keep pace with Scarlet.

"Just a little bit further…" Scarlet pushed open a pair of imposing-looking doors, revealing a long room filled with a polished dining table on the other side. "TA-DAAAAA!"

Herb, standing to the side of the table, gestured to the table's head with an echoing "TA-DAAAAAA!"

Neo gasped. There, awaiting her, was an enormous mound of ice cream settled in a gargantuan bowl. Scoops of vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry dominated, but Neo could make out swirls of other flavors in the mix as well, based on the color. Speckles of chocolate, marshmallow, and fruit peppered the soft substance.

"It's all yours!" Scarlet announced as she backed off to stand on the other side of the table, across from Herb. "Dig in!"

Neo gestured to herself; for me? Really?

"REALLY!" Scarlet and Herb said as one.

Neo didn't need to be told again. She swiped a spoon from beside the ice cream dish and plunged it into the dessert, filling her mouth with it. It had been far too long since she'd been allowed such a frozen treat, and she doubted she'd get the chance to eat it again anytime soon, so she resolved to make the most of it. She hadn't even sat down, simply standing to shovel spoonful after spoonful into her mouth.

"Are you enjoying your treat, Neo?"

There was something off about Scarlet's voice when she asked. Neo couldn't quite place it at first. She looked up from the ice cream dish to gesture a response –

And gazed down the length of the table in Salem's hideout. Where she had been sure Herb was standing not a moment ago, Arthur Watts smirked proudly at her. And instead of Scarlet Overkill, Cinder Fall was positioned across from him, giving Neo the same look.

"Didn't you hear me?" Cinder asked coyly. "I asked if you were enjoying your treat."

Neo's body seized up, and not out of fear. What she wanted to do was grab the nearest object that could be used as a weapon and launch herself at Watts. He would be easier to take down; she would worry about Cinder later. But her limbs didn't obey. They dropped to her sides, freezing there. Her legs wobbled, and she lost her balance, collapsing onto her back, where she couldn't move a millimeter, staring up at the ceiling.

They'd poisoned the ice cream, she realized. Cinder and Watts had done something to the ice cream so that when she ingested it, she would be completely paralyzed.

"Not so tough now, are we?" Cinder mocked as she stepped into view, looking down upon Neo. Her eyes flared with flame; she held up a palm full of fire. "It's time we taught you what happens to traitors."

"Now, hold on." Watts extended an arm, placing a hand on the forearm connected to Cinder's handful of fire. "We could kill her straightaway. But then again, I designed this toxin to immobilize her for three hours. Would it not be more enjoyable to let her live most of it out in this room? We could spend the time finding a more…excruciating way to put her out of her misery. I'm sure Tyrian has a few ideas. But after spending two hours on the floor, she'll lose all sense of dread. She'll be internally begging for us to please, please get it over with. Think about it, Cinder."

"You know…" Cinder let the flame extinguish, her eyes returning to normal. "I like the way you think, Dr. Watts."

"Praise? From you? How unusual."

"I don't intend to make a habit of it."

The pair disappeared from Neo's view, and she could hear their footsteps, particularly the glassy clinks of Cinder's shoes, departing the room. She tried in vain to move, even just her little finger, but it was as if her mind had been implanted in a body made of stone.

The door shut, and all Neo was left with was the view of the ceiling. There was no further noise. There was no further disturbance. All Neo could do was wait and observe her own heart rate as it grew ever more quick.

...

Neo opened her eyes.

As soon as she realized where she was – in her bed on the WHAM ARMY warship, book sprawled on her stomach where she'd let it drop – she sat upright, feeling her heart pound.

Now she recalled. She'd simply been laying on top of her comforter and reading a book, and she'd drifted off to sleep from there. The ice cream, Cinder, Watts, the paralysis: all a nightmare.

She shuddered. Few things actually frightened her. But this nightmare seemed to have reached into her very subconscious and pulled out something she wasn't aware she could fear. She held up both hands, wiggling the fingers to prove that she still had a range of mobility.

Then she leapt off the bed, her book crashing to the ground. She needed to be near other people. The real Scarlet and Herb. Peter. Mim. Aghoul. Anybody. Of course, once she'd found company, she would play it cool. No one needed to know she'd been affected by something as trivial as a nightmare.

But for now, she worried that if she were alone, the dream would somehow find a way to seep back into her reality.

...

Riku landed hard on the street, crouching to absorb the shock. After taking a moment to collect himself, he stood tall, taking in his surroundings.

He appeared to be in a town of some sort: one that reminded him aesthetically of Radiant Garden, but seemed to be lower-tech, judging by the absence of any electrical lights. More importantly, the semi-Darkness he had seen from above hung thick in the air, giving everything a sickly shade. Flecks of black floated like ash. He could smell a faint background scent of Darkness, but it still was not true, pure Darkness; it was diluted. He'd never encountered anything quite like this before, and was unsure of what to call it.

He began to walk forward, contemplating calling out. Judging by sight alone, the town was deserted (though he gained an eerie vibe whenever he passed a cluster of the strange blue lights that bobbed about). But perhaps everyone was indoors, in hiding. Perhaps they were hiding from the quasi-Darkness. Or perhaps there was a greater threat on the loose.

Riku summoned his sword to hand, carrying it loosely at his side. He knew he was just as likely to run into enemy as he was into friend in this strange environment. With that in mind, he began his search for other signs of life.

The first twenty minutes proved fruitless, and Riku wondered if he'd begun his search in the wrong place. Then he heard the hustle of foosteps behind him. He turned; a figure darted around a corner before he had time to visually grasp what he was seeing. Raising his sword and keeping it at the ready for an attack, he slowly followed the path he'd seen the figure disappear down.

A narrow alleyway led to a recessed door, one that seemed almost impossible to find if you weren't specifically looking for it – or hadn't seen someone flee in this direction. Cautiously, Riku eased the door open, putting one foot into the room beyond.

He had entered a tavern, from the looks of it, with tables set up all around and a bar dominating one side of the space. No sooner had Riku taken in where he was than he realized that he wasn't alone.

"STAY BACK!"

The cry came from the far corner, where a young man in green stood at the ready with a bow drawn, arrow aimed directly for Riku's heart. A young woman clad in a gown of lavender and white stood behind this youth; her expression was of fear. And while it seemed the man with the bow was, at first, angry, Riku realized upon a second look that he was frightened too.

Tentatively, Riku lowered his sword. "I'm not here to hurt you," he stated.

"Then why are you carrying your sword like that?" the woman asked.

"In case I met someone who wanted to hurt me," Riku answered. He let the sword dissipate. "But I don't think you do."

The man in green accepted the truce Riku's gesture had begun, easing the arrow off his bow and laying both pieces of the weapon on the table.

"You're afraid," Riku stated. "I can tell. What…happened here?"

"You…don't know?" the woman replied.

"Who ARE you?" the man asked. "Why aren't you being affected by the Twilight?"

"Twilight," Riku repeated. "That's a fitting name. I was wondering what it was. I knew it wasn't pure Darkness." He snapped out of his reverie. "My name is Riku. I think…this Twilight isn't affecting me because I've been tied to the Darkness before, and it's still a part of me. Once you've been steeped in Darkness, then Twilight doesn't matter. I'm guessing the same is true for both of you."

"No," the woman said, shaking her head. "The Triforce protects us."

"Triforce?" Riku repeated.

"The force of the goddesses," the man clarified. "You must be from far away if you don't know."

"Far away is right," Riku confirmed. "I've come from another world."

He waited for the disbelief. Instead, the man said curiously, "Like the Twilight Realm?"

"I'm guessing it's something like that," Riku said with a smile, trying to see if he could ease his company into comfort. "My home is actually called the Destiny Islands, but I've been to a lot of different worlds lately."

"So you don't know about the Twilight," the woman realized.

"Not this kind of Twilight," Riku affirmed. "Can you tell me more about it?"

The man looked to the woman with curiosity and trepidation. "Can we trust him?" he said quietly.

"We have no choice," the woman responded. "We need help."

They turned back to Riku. "My name is Princess Zelda," the woman introduced.

Riku flinched. Immediately, he went down on one knee, bowing his head. "I didn't know – "

"You don't have to do that," Zelda said softly.

Riku rose. "It feels like every royal I talk to eventually says that to me," he teased.

"My name is Link," the man added. "It's…nice to see a friendly face."

"Same here," Riku said with a nod. "So what happened?"

"An enemy we thought was long dead reappeared," Zelda said worriedly. "He's somehow…changed the guardian spirits of Light into spirits of Darkness."

"That's what he said he did, at least," Link clarified. "He's not the kind of person you can trust to tell the truth."

"But I felt my connection to the spirits sever," Zelda emphasized. "I was no longer able to share in their Light. I was left defenseless."

"Wait," Riku said. "You might have to start from the beginning."

So they did. They told Riku how Hyrule was guarded by the four spirits: Ordona, Faron, Eldin, and Lanayru. How they protected the Light of that world, and lent it to Zelda to use in battle. How Ganondorf had used a pawn from the Twilight Realm to threaten them in the past, weakening them so Twilight could dominate the land. How the Twilight turned everyone it touched into spirits, save those marked by the Triforce. How Link had slain Ganondorf to bring peace to both realms. How Zelda had been about to be married, but her betrothed was stolen from her just before Twilight blanketed the land and Ganondorf stormed the throne room with his two cohorts.

Had Zelda gone into a little more detail about Hans' kidnappers rather than just naming them as people she assumed worked with Ganondorf, Riku might have put together some pieces of the puzzle then and there. As it was, Mozenrath's presence on that world was left undiscovered for the time being.

"He said he had four generals stationed with the spirits of Light," Link concluded. "They have to be surviving the Twilight by borrowing the Triforce of Power, just like the other two."

"Tell me more about the two that were with Ganondorf," Riku demanded. "I think I might know who he's working with."

"They were both women," Link explained. "They could both fly. One of them was only human from the waist up. She had the legs of an octopus."

"Ursula," Riku realized. "That means Ganondorf is working with Maleficent! What about the other woman? What was she like?"

"She was dressed in red," Link described. "She had magic like I've never seen before. She controlled fire, and she made black weapons out of thin air."

Riku was taken aback. He knew that description. "Cinder," he named. "Cinder and Maleficent are working together."

"You know them," Zelda said plainly.

"We've been fighting them for a long time," Riku explained.

"'We'?" Link and Zelda said as one.

It was then time for Riku to explain: how he was a Keybearer, trying to bring order to the worlds, even though he didn't have his Keyblade at the moment. How he and his friends had made many enemies on many worlds, but it seemed the majority of these enemies were now lining up under Maleficent's banner. How he had friends from so many other worlds, and a group of them had come seeking Cinder in particular. Ruby's story, and why Cinder was vital for her to pursue.

"I told them I'd get back to them," Riku finished. "I wanted to find some way to bring them down onto this world safely. But with the Twilight, I can't do that. The Darkness isn't part of them the way it's a part of me, and they haven't been blessed by your goddesses. Is there any other way they can enter this world without losing their forms?"

"No," Zelda said somberly. "Not that we know."

"The only one I can think of who would know is Midna," Link said wistfully.

Riku nodded; Midna had come up in Link and Zelda's story as the one who'd assisted Link in vanquishing Ganondorf.

"I wish she were here," Link went on. "Not just because she could help your friends, but…because she always knows what to do. She can look at any situation and see something I missed. Some kind of solution. She wouldn't be afraid…no. She would be afraid, but she would already have a plan to fix what went wrong, even if it took her years to carry it out. She'd smile, and she wouldn't give up. But I should be glad she isn't here, because that means she's safe."

"It sounds like you care a lot about her," Riku observed.

"I do," Link confirmed. "Sometimes, I feel like there are ways I'm closer to her than people I've known my whole life."

"She's strong," Zelda contributed, "and a loyal friend. If it weren't such a danger to her, I would wish her here too."

"If I could just see her smile again," Link lamented. "Just once."

All three were suddenly aware of a piercing white light sparking in the center of the tavern. It started out as a small globe, then expanded, becoming larger than a human being.

"What…is it?" Link gasped.

"I've heard of this before," Riku realized. "I've even seen it. The Light in our hearts opens up pathways to the ones we care about most when we need them most. It's rare, but…I think that Light will lead you to Midna."

"My heart…is connecting me to Midna?" Link repeated. "I…can't. Not when we're all in so much danger. I can't bring her into it."

"But that doesn't mean you can't see her," Riku urged. "If you really want to see her smile again, then go into that Light."

"Can I go with you?" Zelda asked. "I would like to see her again as well. Not only that, but I don't think it's safe to stay here. Those people…Ursula and Cinder…will come looking for us."

"If you go, I'd like to go too," Riku insisted. "You've got me curious about what this Midna is like. And I'm not too big on the idea of staying back here alone either."

"Yes!" Link insisted. "You should both come!"

He charged into the Light, his heart racing at the prospect of once more looking Midna in the eye. Zelda followed, and Riku brought up the rear. The Light sealed itself shut once all were through, leaving no trace that they had occupied the tavern.

But a moment after Link, Zelda, and Riku had disappeared, Cinder crashed into the tavern through the ceiling, tearing through the beams and rafters as an aura of flame engulfed her. Teeth gritted, she scanned the room while hovering above, hoping to catch a glimpse of the two blessed by the Triforce who had gotten away from her. Finding nothing, she zoomed directly upward and out of the building, continuing her search elsewhere in town.

...

At first glance, it would be difficult to believe that the Twilight Realm and Hyrule were so connected, for the Twilight Realm was different in almost every possible way. Its landmasses were composed of islands floating in an abyss; the sky was purple above and golden below, giving a dark cast over the land, though not without its brightness. And the sky remained that way permanently, always. The architecture of the city was dark and blocky, the palace tall and imposing. The Twili, the inhabitants of that realm, were often short, with skin of black or pale green marked with glowing green patterns of lines.

The royal family was taller, more humanoid; Princess Midna in particular towered above her subjects, with nearly luminous blue-green skin offset by bright orange hair that flowed down over her shoulders and broke into twin lengths that tied together in front. She had inherited this color scheme from her parents, King Selenos and Queen Soleanna, who had abdicated the throne to her only a year ago, leaving her a fresh ruler when Zant betrayed her and stole everything she had to her name, warping her realm and her people. Now that Zant and Ganondorf had been foiled in this realm, Selenos and Soleanna had been freed from their imprisonment in the bodies of wild, feral creatures. Once they were reunited with Midna, she never apologized for failing when faced with Zant, for letting her realm fall into the clutches of the wrong man. She knew she never had to, and Selenos and Soleanna never expected her to.

They spent the earlier part of the day strolling through the royal gardens out back of the palace, where even the plants differed vastly from those seen in the world of light, ranging from black, twisting vines to ballooning red flowers the color of a setting sun.

"You know," Midna said as she looked to the sky, "in Hyrule, the sky changes every hour. The sun gets higher in the sky in the middle of the day, and everything gets brighter. Then, after the brief twilight phase at the end of the day, everything goes dark except for the stars."

"How awful that must be," Soleanna said in disgust, "to be beneath a sky you can never rely on to be the same."

"It was awful," Midna sighed. "Sometimes I miss it."

"Better you had that adventure than us," Selenos joked. "I don't think I could have handled it."

"Do you want to go back?" Soleanna asked out of curiosity.

"That would mean leaving my entire home behind," Midna said instantly and sharply.

But it wasn't a "no," and Soleanna realized that immediately. It was a remark made to cover ambivalence.

A sudden yell rang out across the gardens: "MIDNA!"

Midna recognized the voice immediately, and a shot of adrenaline pulsated through her. How could it possibly be him? How could he possibly be here?

She turned. There he was, standing at the edge of the rows and rows of flowers: Link, with Zelda to his left and an unknown boy to his right.

"Who is that?" Soleanna asked.

"He isn't a Twili!" Selenos cried.

"No," Midna said breathlessly, a smile taking over her face. "He's a friend!"

Link broke into a run, careful to leap over each row of plants and avoid crushing any royal property, hurrying toward Midna. Instinctively, he put his arms out in front of his body, ready to embrace her. But certainly, he realized, that was no way to greet the ruler of the Twilight Realm. He hadn't interacted with her after she'd taken the throne once more, and he realized their dynamic might have changed; he might now have to pay more respect. So he slowed his steps, lowering his arms as he came to a halt before her.

He looked into her eyes, unable to find words. She looked back for but a moment, saying nothing as well. Then she remarked, "Do you think I'm too immaculate to touch? Is that it?"

She reached out, pulling Link close to herself. And once she'd broken down that barrier, he felt more free to wrap his own arms around her, returning the gesture in full force. He had also only known her true form for a short while, and was unused to her having such a tall body, thinking back to when she was a tiny imp the proper size to ride upon a wolf's back. He liked that she was now able to embrace him.

Riku and Zelda carefully made their way through the gardens to the reunion site, watching contentedly without saying a word.

"I missed you," Link said softly as he and Midna stepped apart.

"I thought about you every now and then," Midna teased. "How did you get here?"

"I can't really explain it," Link admitted. "Riku knows more about it than I do."

"Riku?" Midna repeated, looking to the strange silver-haired boy. Certainly this was who Link was referring to.

"That's me," Riku confirmed. "And you must be Midna." He bowed.

"Don't do that," Midna groaned.

As Riku straightened back up, Midna asked, "So what happened to Link to bring him here? Since you're apparently the expert."

"His heart opened up a pathway through the Light," Riku elaborated. "I've seen it before." He thought back to Beast carving his way to Radiant Garden, back when it was Hollow Bastion, just to find Belle, and of Phineas bringing the Mystic Rangers to the same town because of his connection to Leelee. "It only happens when one person cares about another a lot…" Thinking back, both Beast and Phineas had been in love with the respective people their hearts had drawn them to, hadn't they? It was an interesting thing to note. "…and when one person needs the other most." Though it had happened for Sora and Riku finding their way to Kairi as well, so the type of bond did vary. Still, it bore consideration to wonder what sort of bond Link and Midna truly had.

"You need me?" Midna repeated. "I should've known I couldn't leave you alone. You'd never get anywhere without me." She giggled.

"I wanted to see you," Link told her.

"There has to be more to it than that," Midna asserted. "Your friend just said you NEEDED me. Is there some kind of problem?"

"There is," Link admitted, "but I don't want to get you wrapped up in it."

"Maybe I want to get wrapped up in it," Midna argued. "Tell me what it is, and I'll decide for myself."

"Midna!" Selenos said in shock. "Are you suggesting you want to meddle in the affairs of the world of light again? You can't – "

"Oh, shhhh!" Soleanna told her husband, holding up a hand in front of him. Selenos halted his complaints, knowing much better than to defy Soleanna.

"I…" Link could only state it after taking a deep breath to clear his head. "Ganondorf has returned. He brought allies, and he somehow transformed the spirits of Light into spirits of Darkness. Hyrule is covered in Twilight again, and Zelda and I are the only ones who haven't been transformed into spirits."

"Then what's he?" Midna asked, indicating Riku.

"He's from another realm besides either of ours," Link told her. "He's been fighting evil in many realms, and he wants to help us."

"Another realm, is it?" Midna looked to Riku.

Riku nodded. "It's true."

"He came with several friends," Zelda added, "but he's the only one able to walk safely in the Twilight. Darkness is a part of him, and it keeps him safe."

"It's too bad I wasn't there," Midna related. "I could work a spell that would keep all your friends from coming to any harm, easily. Well, it's not too late to fix that."

"You can't!" Link argued. "Ganondorf's allies make him too strong! You'd be in danger!"

"I have the power of the Fused Shadow on my side," Midna reminded him. "Do you really think I'd be in danger? You must think very little of me."

"No, I don't!" Link insisted. "I don't think little of you at all! I just – "

Midna gave him a teasing smile. "I know. I was joking. But it sounds like you really do need my help."

"But we have no way to get back," Link realized.

Everyone was made aware of a piercing, shining light that started out as a mere orb and expanded into a gateway. "Looks like your heart is leading you home one last time," Riku realized.

"Then I'm going with you," Midna insisted.

"But then YOU'LL have no way to get back," Link told her.

"Is my realm the one in danger?" Midna retorted. "We can find a way after we've made sure your world is safe again."

"In all the worlds, there must be a way to put back the gateway between your realms just long enough for Midna to go home," Riku added.

"Just let me say goodbye," Midna demanded, turning to Selenos and Soleanna, who regarded her with a shocked expression.

"Mi…Midna," Selenos finally forced out. "You…you would…"

"I would help a world that needs me," Midna told her father. "I'm sorry it means having to leave you behind. But maybe, if Link's heart led him to me, mine will lead me to you when the time comes."

"We understand what you have to do," Soleanna told her daughter.

"We do?" Selenos said in disbelief.

"We once ruled this kingdom long before you were born and for quite some time after," Soleanna reminded her. "If you so decree it, we may take up the throne again."

Midna drew herself up tall. "It is my decree as the ruler of the Twilight Realm that you may take my place to rule as king and queen again. We can work out the details of what happens when I get back when that actually happens."

Soleanna moved forward to hug her daughter. "Do what you must," she said solemnly. "We will think of you every moment you are gone."

"You're not going to be so easy to forget yourself," Midna replied.

It was then Selenos' turn to embrace Midna goodbye. "I cannot believe you are doing this," he sighed. "But you always have been strong-willed, and you know the difference between right and wrong. If you believe this is the best path…then it must be true. I love you, my daughter."

"I love you too," Midna said. "Both of you."

Riku almost found the sight too much to bear, as he recalled not giving his own family the grace of goodbye the night he had given himself up to the Darkness: a memory that he knew would weigh heavy on him always.

Midna stepped away from her parents, toward Zelda, Link, and Riku. "Well?" she said. "Let's get moving before that thing closes."

She shoved ahead, reaching a hand out to touch the passage first, seeing if it would harm her. Light magic often burned her, and too much of it could prove fatal. But while this was uncomfortably warm, it merely forged itself into a container around her, the Light itself keeping a safe distance as the walls of the byway. Once she was confident that she would not be hurt, Midna strolled right into the passage. Link waited for Zelda and Riku to make it through safely as well before stepping in.

Then, as before, the corridor closed, sealing Hyrule and the Twilight Realm off from each other again.

...

The first thing Riku noticed upon the group's return to Hyrule was the hole in the roof of the tavern. "Someone came looking for us," he realized. "It's not safe to hide here anymore."

"Just take me to your friends," Midna insisted. "I want to see what kind of people came to us in our desperate hour."

...

The atmosphere in the Gummi ship was relaxed at first, but the longer Riku was gone, the tenser it grew.

"I hope he's okay," Jasmine said with concern.

"Urgh!" Katara grunted. "This would be so much easier if one of us could just get down there and LOOK FOR HIM!"

"Okay, you're not going to believe this," Stork said in his own state of incredulousness, "but I think I just found him."

Midna flew up toward the Gummi ship on a surge of magic, surfing on it with her bare feet; she held Riku's hand in her left and Link's hand in her right, with Zelda clinging to Link's spare hand. That contact made them able to ride along with her to where the ship hung in the sky.

"HE SEEMS TO HAVE MADE NEW FRIENDS," Papyrus observed.

Sora flung open the side door, letting Midna, Riku, Link, and Zelda enter. "Come on in!" he welcomed. Once all were settled and the door shut, Sora nearly tackled Riku in an embrace. "I KNEW you'd be okay!" he proclaimed.

"Like I could afford to get in trouble with you waiting on me," Riku replied, nearly crushing Sora in his own arms.

"Uh…hi," Ruby greeted the three guests. "Who are you?"

"My name is Midna," Midna said with a sly smile, "and I believe I'm your savior on this particular day."

"So you're Riku's friends," Link realized. "Riku met us down below. My name is Link."

"And I am Princess Zelda," Zelda added.

"So can you tell us what EXACTLY is going on down there?" Stork asked. "You know, why it's all…shadowy?"

"None of you really could survive down there without turning into spirits," Midna observed. "At least, not the way you are now. Just give me a second and I'll fix that."

She held her hands with palms together, creating a small sphere of dusky Twilight magic in between them. She opened up her hands, letting the orb grow and grow until it enveloped the whole ship. Stork and Katara winced, unsure at first whether to trust the spell.

"There," Midna resolved. "Now you'll be protected."

"This better not be a trick," Stork grunted. "Also, you didn't answer my question."

"I only know what they told me," Midna retorted.

"They have an old enemy named Ganondorf," Riku explained. "I think he's working with Maleficent. At least, he's working with Ursula for sure. Ganondorf came back with several of Maleficent's forces and covered the world in Twilight magic by corrupting the Light spirits that guarded it. Link and Zelda are the only ones who were able to withstand it because of a blessing from their goddesses. Midna comes from a world where everything is surrounded in Twilight magic, so she's fine."

"Sounds like we have another world to save," Sora resolved.

"Why does that not surprise me?" Stork groaned.

"But that's not even the part that will matter most to you," Riku went on. "Ganondorf isn't Maleficent's only new ally on this world." He looked directly to Ruby.

"No," Ruby breathed.

"They're working with Cinder Fall," Riku confirmed.

Ruby stood bolt upright, clutching the collapsed Crescent Rose at her side. "We've gotta go down there and take 'em down!"

"I like her," Midna said with a grin.

...

As Sora's party, now of eleven, marched down the central road of Castle Town to get to the fortress at its heart, they swapped stories, with Link, Midna, and Zelda learning of the visitors' adventures and the visitors learning of the past struggle of Link, Midna, and Zelda against Ganondorf and his use of the Twilight.

"So what's the plan?" Stork asked. "Do we have a plan?"

"The plan is we march right into that castle and give Ganondorf and Cinder a piece of our minds," Aladdin responded confidently.

"You know," Stork grunted, "everyone said you were more of a plan guy than just 'march up to the stronghold of our doom and start a fight we can't finish.'"

"I can practically finish this fight on my own," Midna tried to assure the others. "Just watch when we get there."

They finally reached the castle gates only to find the entire building protected by its shield of impenetrable Darkness. Ruby attempted to walk right through it, thinking it only an intangible projection of magic; the others all cried out to warn her before she slammed right into the hard wall.

"Okay, ouch," she muttered. "That is a very real wall."

"OF COURSE THEY WOULD NOT MAKE IT EASY!" Papyrus realized. "IT'S ANOTHER PUZZLE WE HAVE TO WORK OUT!"

"And it has an easy solution," Midna told him. "Watch this."

Her outline bubbled, indicating a transformation about to take place.

"Step back," Link warned the others.

Everyone quickly backpedaled to give Midna some space. Several plates of black armor appeared, orbiting Midna until they slammed into the shape of a horned helmet that covered her head. The helmet seemed to pull Midna's entire body left and right; as she staggered, she muttered, "You'd think I would have learned how to control this stage!"

Then she became gelatinous and expanded within the span of a moment; where the Twili woman had stood, there was suddenly an enormous creature, a six-armed spidery behemoth topped off by a gargantuan version of the horned helmet, its skin glowing black and gold.

Stork squeaked, attempted to make a comment, and then simply collapsed in a dead faint.

Midna, now in her more sizeable form, clambered up the side of the wall of Darkness, pounding into it with all six feet. She drew back one limb, curling it around; a golden spear forged of Twilight energy sparked into her grip. Midna slammed the spear against the Darkness as hard as she could.

There was a flash of bright light –

And the spear shattered in Midna's grip.

Frustrated, Midna balled up the digits on the two frontmost of her limbs, pounding on the wall over and over. She materialized weapon after weapon, and all broke against the barrier. Finally, she slid back down to the ground, deflating into her Twili body once more and looking quite tiny in comparison to what she had just been.

"I don't UNDERSTAND!" she cried. "I was able to bring down the same kind of wall BEFORE! What's different NOW?"

As Jasmine and Aladdin gently helped Stork back to consciousness and set him on his feet again, Riku gave the wall a visual once-over. "What's different is Maleficent," he said decisively. "Anyone who works for her would be able to make a more powerful barrier. They would expect someone who has your power to challenge them. And I'm guessing it's only made stronger by the corruption of this world's Light."

"No!" Ruby moaned. "NO!" She withdrew Crescent Rose, charging at the wall. "Cinder is JUST ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THIS WALL!" She made an angry stroke at the barrier, her blade glancing off it. Again and again she sliced, making no impact, as she cried out, "I! HAVE! TO! GET! THERE! I'M! SO! CLOSE!"

"RUBY, PLEASE CALM DOWN!" Papyrus implored, putting a hand on each of her shoulders. "YOU'LL BREAK YOUR WEAPON THAT WAY!"

Ruby ceased the scythe-strokes, taking several ragged breaths before finally forcing herself to calm down. "You're right," she sighed as she collapsed Crescent Rose. "I'm just wasting our time this way. But we can't give up now."

"And we're not going to," Aladdin insisted. "Riku, didn't you say that wall might be as strong as it is because of those Light spirits being corrupted?"

"I think that's probably the case," Riku affirmed.

"So if we could save the Light spirits," Sora concluded, "we could weaken the barrier!"

"And save the world while we're at it," Katara chimed in.

"That won't be easy," Zelda informed the others. "If the Light spirits have truly become Darkness…I do not know how to return the Light to them. There may not be a way to do such a thing."

"When Zant weakened them," Link recalled, "they had me return the Light to them in vessels. But then, they weren't corrupted. If Ganondorf was telling the truth, there might be no vessels this time that we can use. There's nothing that can fill them with Light."

"Do I have to think of everything?" Midna groaned. "Of course there's something that can fill them with Light, remember? Your sword! We imbued it with the power of the Sols!"

"The Sols?" Sora repeated.

"Stones from the Twilight Realm that provided us with all the Light we needed," Midna explained. "That's how we made Link strong enough to match Ganondorf last time! All you should need is that sword, and we'll be able to change the Spirits back easy!"

"I don't have the sword anymore," Link said rather sheepishly.

"You don't HAVE it?" Midna repeated in disbelief. "You better not have LOST it!"

"I returned it to where we found it," Link told her. "Once Hyrule was safe, I thought it would be most respectful to the goddesses to put it back in their care."

"Well, Hyrule ISN'T safe anymore!" Midna cried. "We have to go get that sword back RIGHT NOW!"

"Then we will," Link resolved. "It's going to be a long journey…"

"We can take it!" Sora insisted. "We've made tons of long journeys before!"

"WE'RE WITH YOU!" Papyrus affirmed.

Link looked around at the enthusiastic faces of his new allies (insofar as Stork's expression could ever be called enthusiastic at the prospect of a dangerous quest), surprised to see that the people he'd only just met were already willing to follow him across the land. He gave them all a nod. "Then we'll go," he stated, taking his first steps away from the castle.

The group moved all the way out of town, beginning a trek across the spacious fields and heading into the forest.

...

While Wuya and Demyx made the rounds in Castle Town, Mozenrath, Hans, Roman, Zevon, Yzma, and Irmaplotz found themselves with time to kill. While Yzma grilled Hans about whether or not he liked karaoke (the answer was yes) and what sort of music he liked, Roman and Zevon got into an idle discussion of things they'd blown up and what their most impressive chain reaction explosion had been. Mozenrath made his way to the edge of the roof of the Grounds, settling himself there with his legs dangling off the edge, and stared out upon the now darkened landscape before him. It had its own morbid beauty to it.

The Huntsman had wandered back into his mind. He couldn't help but wonder what the Huntsman would think of all of this. If he would enjoy the view off the Arbiter's Grounds. If he would have approved of Hans or not. What difference he could have made in the wedding crash. The conversation Mozenrath could be having with him right now about it if he were here. If he only wanted to be here at all.

Mozenrath became aware of the presence sitting next to him after it had been there for some time. "A speciedaler for your thoughts," Hans prompted.

"I don't see how what I'm thinking about is any of your concern," Mozenrath replied sharply.

"You'd better not be thinking about the Huntsman again," Yzma stated bluntly as she settled in on Mozenrath's other side.

"It isn't my fault he won't stop crossing my mind," Mozenrath grumbled. "If I didn't know better, I'd think he was doing it on purpose. But then again, that would involve him wanting me to suffer, which would involve caring about what I feel in some capacity, so he wouldn't do it."

"Apparently, whatever's going on is HER concern," Hans observed.

"I didn't even love him," Mozenrath went on. "Why…why does this BOTHER me?"

"It's certainly irrational," Yzma confirmed. "But then again, irrational is becoming our norm, is it not?"

"What is this?" Hans asked. "Guy trouble?"

"Well, since you've heard this much of it," Mozenrath told him, "I was…involved with an associate of mine. For reasons too petty to even believe, he decided he wanted nothing more to do with me outside of professional boundaries."

"Ouch," Hans replied. "That is rough. So, have you thought about how you're going to kill him yet?"

"I'm not going to kill him," Mozenrath groaned. "I can't."

"Why not?" Hans asked. "I kinda took you for that kind of guy."

"There's any number of people I would kill for slighting me in smaller ways than he did," Mozenrath growled. "But I can't…kill…him. Maybe I should have. But I can't."

"We were all in a position to do exactly that," Yzma pointed out, "and we didn't. You did come close to burning Vexen to a crisp a second time."

"And the list of people I should have killed grows ever longer," Mozenrath sighed.

"But do you REALLY want to kill Vexen, either?" Yzma asked.

"Don't make me get introspective about that," Mozenrath told her. "No one wants that."

"Well, if your associate wanted to cut things off with you, it's his loss," Hans remarked.

"I'd say don't try and flatter me," Mozenrath told him, flashing him a smirk, "but I do so enjoy being flattered."

"All I know is you're a looker," Hans replied, "and you have an ambitious spark anyone with our kind of morality should appreciate."

"Not wrong," Mozenrath told him. "Not wrong at all." He sighed back into a slump. "I'm above this."

"You know…" Irmaplotz chimed in, sitting down on Yzma's other side. "It's like this book I once read. There was a princess and a barbarian from two different kingdoms. One day, they met, and they fell in love. It was the most magical few weeks of either of their lives. But then they found out they were too different to be together, and nothing could change that. So the barbarian dumped – " She paused. "The princess dumped the barbarian. But ever since then, the barbarian couldn't stop thinking about her and wishing she'd been more like him and that they hadn't had that difference that forced them apart. Even though he was by all rights a strong, independent woman capable of ruling her own kingdom and creating her own destiny! She shouldn't need a man! She shouldn't care! But she never did – "

"I thought it was the barbarian who couldn't stop thinking about the princess," Yzma said in confusion.

"…I might be getting some details mixed up," Irmaplotz said sheepishly. "Anyway, the point of the book was that even the strongest and most capable people can end up getting caught up in thinking about the people they lo – were romantically involved with. It doesn't make you weak. It makes you human."

"Not big on being human," Mozenrath grunted.

"Well, too bad," Irmaplotz told him, "because you are."

"How did it end?"

"What?" Irmaplotz asked.

"The book," Mozenrath asked. "How did it end?"

"I…don't know the ending yet," Irmaplotz admitted. "I never got that far."

"You know, I like the sounds of this book," Zevon told her, plopping down on her other side. "There's nothing like reading a good tragicady. What was it called? Because I want to find out how it ends!"

"Well, would you look at that," Irmaplotz said dryly. "I've suddenly completely forgotten the title and the author."

"Curses!" Zevon hissed.

"Nobody asked for my opinion." Roman settled himself on the other side of Hans. "But you're gonna get it anyway. This whole Huntsman thing? Can't say I saw it coming, but now that we're here, I also can't say I'm completely surprised. After all, when you've seen the shit I have, you start to learn that life's not a fuckin' fairy tale. True love doesn't prevail. Not everybody gets a happy ending. Even if you are the good guy. You'd think that being the bad guy would make you a little safer. If life is unfair, at least it will be unfair in your favor. But every villain is the hero of their own story, right? And all heroes are fucked."

"Not necessarily," Yzma told him. "Everyone in Fantastica did insist we were fictional characters. It is possible, though unlikely, that we ARE in fact in some sort of fairy tale in which we get our way."

"No, we most definitely are not," Roman said coldly. "Trust me. If we were, I wouldn't have seen half the shit I've seen. You know, I really thought that this whole WHAM ARMY thing meant a turn for the better, and it's made me see the upside of things. But Skullface might just have marked the beginning of the end. First, he says he doesn't want to be our pal. Then he quits the team. Then someone else gets it into their head to follow. And one by one, it all falls apart."

"NO!" Mozenrath screamed suddenly, staring Roman down. "That is NOT going to happen! You're right about one thing. This is NOT a fairy tale where things will magically go our way if we let them play out. I learned that when I was younger too. And that's why I started standing up and taking action to MAKE things go my way. I stopped LETTING the world take things from me. I became the Mozenrath you know, I sacrificed for power, I killed Destane, all so I could write my own story! I am NOT going to roll over and let that stop now! Not for me, and not for any of you! We are going to stand up TOGETHER and write the ending of this story ourselves! Even if it takes more sacrifice. I'm not letting myself be ruled by the existence I mean to rule, and I'm not letting that happen to you either!"

"Me specifically?" Roman asked. "Or 'you' like the group?"

Mozenrath's smirk returned. "Both. You know, Torchwick…I can't believe I'm about to say this, but…"

He very nearly admitted it: that he was jealous of the relationship Roman had cultivated with Snatcher, and he was coming to realize that while the specifics would be different, it was something he wanted for himself. But before he could bare that part of his heart, Wuya and Demyx walked back onto the Grounds rooftop, and Mozenrath found himself rather relieved that he had been saved from revealing more than he usually did.

"You're back!" Yzma proclaimed, being the first to hustle into a standing position, with the others following suit.

"You look like you were having fun," Wuya remarked.

"All you guys needed were six sticks of sea-salt ice cream," Demyx joked.

"That'd be nice right about now, actually," Roman realized. "Have they invented ice cream on this world?"

"Given that it doesn't seem to have advanced technologically one bit since I was gone," Wuya answered, "I would say no."

"Please don't actually start eating sea-salt ice cream and staring off into the sunset," Demyx begged. "It was a joke. It's totally a hero thing."

"It sounds all too cutesy," Mozenrath said with distaste. "Anyway, what did you find?"

"You're not going to believe this," Wuya said with a smirk. "It appears Ganondorf isn't as gone as we thought."

"You're…strangely happy about this," Yzma said suspiciously.

"He's invaded Hyrule and corrupted the four guardian Light spirits of this land into spirits of Darkness," Wuya went on, her grin growing. "He's appointed a general from his new alliance to accompany each spirit and make sure no one tries any funny business. And given who I saw patrolling the town, I know exactly who those allies are."

"You are SUSPICIONOUSLY happy about this," Zevon chimed in.

"Who did you see patrolling the town?" Roman asked.

"Oh, no one special," Wuya told him. "Friend of yours. Fiery."

"Shit," Roman muttered, realizing exactly who she was talking about.

"Meaning Ganondorf's friends are Maleficent's friends," Wuya went on. "Four of them are guarding the spirits of Darkness. The four of them are borrowing the Triforce of Power from him. Meaning if we defeat them, I could take that power for myself…"

"…And you might just have a chance at breaching the border of the Twilight Realm," Hans realized.

"Oh," Wuya said sheepishly. "That too."

"This is about giving the final one-up to your ex-boyfriend, isn't it?" Mozenrath realized.

"It seriously took you that long to work it out?" Wuya scolded. "I'll finally have the last laugh! I'll bring his empire crashing down around him! He's giving it three days to sit on the throne before declaring it a success. We're about to make it the worst three days of his life! With the Triforce of Power, I could best him in combat and DESTROY him! And yes, I do mean literally. I want the last thing he sees to be me, reveling in my victory as he fades away!"

"Assuming he can't just teleport out of the way once he realizes you're getting the best of him," Roman pointed out.

"He won't admit it to himself until it's far, far too late," Wuya cackled.

"You care an awful lot about this," Yzma said sourly. "Are you sure you don't still have some kind of feelings for him?"

"The only feeling I have for him is bloodlust," Wuya replied coolly.

"Which is still technically lust," Roman observed.

"We have our new plan," Wuya outlined. "We're going to find all four of his generals. We're going to beat the Triforce of Power out of them. And then – "

"And THEN," Mozenrath took over, "we're going to cross into the Twilight Realm and find the Fused Shadow. You know, like we came here for in the first place."

"After we put Ganondorf in his place," Wuya argued.

"Our plan for multiversal domination is bigger than your argument with your ex-boyfriend!" Mozenrath snapped.

"You of all people should understand rivalry," Wuya scoffed. "This one's been going for over a millennium."

"BECAUSE YOU WERE TRAPPED IN A BOX FOR MOST OF IT!"

"Okay, I think we all just need to take a deep breath here," Hans suggested, holding up a hand toward Mozenrath and Wuya each. "Once we have the Triforce of Power, there will be time for both the Fused Shadow AND beating up Ganondorf. Though, honestly, if you ask me, I think Mozenrath's plan is the better bet here. Because once we have the Shadow AND the Triforce, we can use them BOTH to eliminate Ganondorf."

"That is true," Wuya realized. "He'll be instantly obliterated."

"So can we call a truce for now?" Hans suggested.

"Well, no matter the end, we are going after the same means," Mozenrath relented. "And if Wuya does agree to get the Shadow first…"

"It does sound like a distinct magical advantage," Wuya admitted. "All right. We'll do the Shadow first. But then you have to promise me we'll target Ganondorf."

"Bringing down Maleficent's elite is always satisfying," Mozenrath remarked. "We'll do it." He turned to Hans. "So. Where should we start?"

"Four spirits, four provinces," Hans laid out. "The closest one is Lanayru, but it's still going to be a walk."

"I say we cut the distance by going back to Castle Town first," Demyx suggested.

"You want to tango with the Fall Maiden?" Wuya asked skeptically.

"…You know, I don't even know what that means," Demyx admitted, "but it sounds bad, so no."

"We'll go from the edge of the desert," Mozenrath resolved, casting the Corridor.

Roman walked over to Demyx, nudging him lightly. "Care to provide any road trip tunes?"

Demyx called sitar to hand; "Only ALWAYS!"


	57. The Sword and the Serpent

A/N: Trigger warning on this and the next few chapters for blood and gore. You'll see why once the arc we're doing becomes clear. Also, GAVillain has come on board as my beta reader, and MEGA thanks to him!

57\. The Sword and the Serpent

Halfway across Hyrule Field, Mozenrath realized his heart wasn't broken.

Something hadn't been sitting right with him since the discussion atop the Arbiter's Grounds – no, before that. Everyone had their moments of weakness. But Mozenrath didn't consider himself part of "everyone." And after hashing it out, he felt like he still hadn't struck at the heart of the issue with the Huntsman.

As half the accompanying group sang along to Demyx's latest musical number of choice and the other half chatted, Mozenrath plunged deep into thought and finally applied a label to what he had been feeling. Or was it more accurately what he had been "thinking"? Or did the two blend together?

Because it wasn't longing for the Huntsman's affection or company that kept him bound up in distress. It was something far less emotionally impactful. It was Mozenrath's own obsessive nature.

In all the time he had been aware of Agrabah's existence on the map and desired to take it for himself, he had only launched a few schemes to do so. Aladdin had doubtless seen a myriad of other adventures in between encounters with Mozenrath. No doubt Aladdin had written it off to Mozenrath not being able to escape his various defeats for some time. Perhaps he had suspected a lack of ideas, but that wasn't true. The fact was that every time Mozenrath's carefully crafted plans were brought down, he would sink into a spiral of rage and denial that would block out all desire to begin anew. Why hadn't the last plan worked, if Mozenrath had taken such care to make it foolproof? How did Aladdin keep getting the better of him? It couldn't have been a weakness on Mozenrath's part. But each time, he assumed his gambit to be perfect, allowing the occasional workaround for such small stitches to come loose as the rampant Thirdac. That was solved easily with a backup plan.

But Dagger Rock. Amin Damoola. The Sun of Shamash. Mozenrath hadn't foreseen failure in any of these ventures, and yet the victory he had been so assured of had been swiped from him each time. He would go over the events repeatedly in his mind, stirring them up into a cooking pot of ire. And the dish had a bitter taste that wouldn't leave Mozenrath's mouth for weeks.

The Huntsman had been a friend, true. He had held Mozenrath's affections, yes. But he had also been part of a plan, and a quite essential part to boot. The WHAM ARMY was the latest venture. It was also, as far as Mozenrath could recall, the only one where he had any sort of emotional stake beyond pride. The Huntsman had broken himself off from the plan. He had turned Mozenrath down in more ways than one, and while Mozenrath was quite aware he could have changed the Huntsman's mind through some more unsavory methods of torture, the emotional stake prevented him from taking action. As far as he was concerned, he had no control over the Huntsman's decisions, and that had left him with yet another failed plan.

Mozenrath, ultimately, hadn't gotten what he wanted, and now it was locked on replay in his mind. It all became clear once he recognized the pattern. It was a relief, he thought, to know it was a problem rooted in his head rather than his heart. The solution was simple on paper: find a new plan – or, in this case, focus on the current one despite any missing elements.

First, he had to cover his tracks.

"Regarding what we talked about on – " he began.

Nobody listened; they carried on singing and chatting.

Mozenrath lifted a hand, intending to call down a bolt of lightning and an accompanying thunderclap to get everyone's attention. But the act of doing so gave him a shudder; putting any conscious spell through the gauntlet would threaten the security of the five physical bodies he was holding out of spirit form. Better he find that out now than on the battlefield, he realized. So he cleared his throat and attempted again:

"REGARDING WHAT WE TALKED ABOUT ON THE ARBITER'S GROUNDS – "

This time, everyone realized Mozenrath was trying to get attention, and so Demyx, Roman, Zevon, Irmaplotz, Yzma, Wuya, and Hans fell silent, looking to him.

"…Forget it happened," Mozenrath said stonily. Already he was wishing he hadn't so much as looked at the horizon.

"Gladly," Roman said without missing a beat. "No offense, but I wasn't looking forward to playing therapist for the rest of this trip. Or ever again."

"I actually didn't mind sharing feelings," Irmaplotz volunteered.

"Then start a journal when you get back home," Yzma snapped.

"So, what," Wuya sighed, "you leave me out of an entire conversation and then put a ban on bringing it up before I can know what it was?"

"It was basically Mozenrath being hysterionic for half an hour," Zevon caught up.

"I was being neither hysteric nor histrionic," Mozenrath grunted through gritted teeth, "but all the same, we're not talking about it anymore. I don't want it ever brought up again."

"If all you did while I was gone was mope," Wuya relented, "I'm glad I wasn't there for it. I'm actually all for a ban on moping in general."

"I'M in charge," Mozenrath reminded her, "and I'LL decide when there's a ban on moping." He paused a moment, then said, "Moping is banned."

"Does complaining count as moping?" Demyx asked.

"No – " Mozenrath began, but thought better of it, knowing Demyx. "Actually, yes. Complaining is a subsidiary of moping."

"Aw, man!" Demyx groaned. "But I wanna be able to complain about things!"

"YOU ARE LITERALLY COMPLAINING ABOUT NOT BEING ABLE TO COMPLAIN," Mozenrath growled, "AND I JUST BANNED THAT. Anyway, end of story, end of discussion. We're focusing on the mission at hand."

At some point, he always had to make the conscious decision to stop languishing on an old scheme so he could draw up the plans for a new one. So he set the thought of the Huntsman aside and filled that space with the Fused Shadow. Already, it felt an eternity better.

Though it did slip his mind that perhaps he should get in contact with Snatcher and tell him to abort mission regarding speaking to the Huntsman.

"We are here to have fun, after all," Wuya agreed.

"It's definitely going to be fun," Mozenrath decided. "Especially if we get to stomp in the faces of FOUR of Maleficent's elite. There's just…one small problem."

"Why is it that whenever someone says there's one small problem," Yzma brought up, "it usually means an earth-shatteringly big problem?"

"I can't use my hand without letting go of the rest of your physical forms," Mozenrath admitted. "I can either use magic to fight and let over half of our force become useless, or I can be useless and keep you all in the game. Neither is ideal, but I'm not dumb enough to reduce our numbers by over half."

"It'd still be you, Eyeliner, and Bookworm against one person," Roman pointed out. "That's our three biggest powerhouses."

"True, true…" Mozenrath mulled over.

"You're not counting the literally infinite Heartless Maleficent is known to let her subordinates have access to," Wuya pointed out, "and, most importantly, the guardian spirit itself, which will have been trained to take out anything the generals see as a threat. We need numbers. Though Mozenrath doesn't have to be useless."

She gripped thin air, making a drawing motion and pulling a gleaming sword – a dao – from nowhere. She then thrust the grip into Mozenrath's hand. "Now you're not useless," she stated.

"Right," Mozenrath replied.

She caught the uncertainty in his voice. "You…do know how to use a sword, right?"

"It can't be hard to figure out," Mozenrath replied, sounding slightly more self-assured.

"Never mind," Wuya sighed. "You're useless."

"No, I'm NOT!" Mozenrath growled. "Look!"

He made several awkward swinging motions with the sword, forcing everyone to back up several paces to avoid getting sliced. Eventually, Mozenrath lost his grip altogether, dropping the flat of the blade on his foot.

"Wow," Roman remarked. "It's like watching Archie try to use a scroll."

"Actually, your form's not bad," Hans commented.

"Were we watching the same person?" Yzma asked.

"No, no," Hans insisted, "I used to make the same mistake when I started out. It's not perfect, but it's not a bad starting point. I'm guessing you're a fast learner, Mozenrath."

Seeing he could no longer pretend he had any prowess with the blade, Mozenrath changed charades: "I am."

"Make me one," Hans implored Wuya. "I want to show him a few improvements." He looked to Mozenrath. "If I'm not overstepping my bounds."

Mozenrath didn't feel all that great about having to learn anything, thereby admitting he could be shown up at such a thing by a teacher, especially if that teacher were the newest addition to the group.

"Really, it won't take long," Hans insisted. "You knew exactly how to start."

But Hans was a good flatterer, and Mozenrath at least wanted to humor him in exchange for that. "Fine," he relented, picking up the dao. "Show me."

"All yours," Wuya said as she handed Hans a second dao.

Hans struck a battle pose as he faced Mozenrath. "Start by copying my stance," Hans directed.

Mozenrath did so.

"Are you sure we should have given them blades with actual sharp edges?" Yzma whispered to Wuya.

"Too late to turn back now," Wuya responded.

Hans talked Mozenrath through a short mock duel, stroke by stroke, parry by parry. It turned out Hans had been correct about Mozenrath being a fast learner in some capacity; while Mozenrath still looked clumsy, at least he was getting the blade to go where he wanted it without instruction from Hans at all, pace quickening, and he hadn't dropped it, which was a good sign.

When the practice duel ended with Mozenrath's blade held up to Hans' throat, Hans let his sword fall to the ground, looking almost nervous through his coy smile. "Looks like you got me right where you want me," he teased.

Mozenrath lowered his blade. "Afraid I'll leave a mark on that pretty face?" he replied with a smirk.

"I would appreciate it if you didn't," Hans told him. "This face is a better weapon than any sword in a lot of situations."

They resumed walking. "Well, Wuya," Mozenrath addressed, "you know the lay of the land. If you know the guardian spirit's weak point, now would be the appropriate time to reveal it."

"They don't have one," Wuya stated coldly. "You're all going to have to deal with holding it off while I engage the general."

"And why am I not the one engaging the general?" Mozenrath asked.

"Because I have to be the one to strip the Triforce of Power off them," Wuya emphasized.

"You can do that?" Zevon asked, amazed.

"I'm sure I know the spell that will manage," Wuya informed him. "And any other of you who wants it can pry the Triforce off my cold, dead hand. I'm going to be the one to collect it and I'm going to be the one to overthrow Ganondorf with it."

"AFTER we break into the Twilight Realm," Mozenrath broke in.

"Right," Wuya said. "I'm going to be the one to open that barrier, too. Does anyone have any objections? Because I can assure you, you don't want to have any objections."

"Well, Ganondorf was your problem," Mozenrath said with a shrug. "It seems only fair you get to engage him."

"Anyone else?" Wuya asked.

The others mouthed approval of Wuya's version of the plan.

"Good," Wuya said. "We're in agreement."

...

The Radiant Garden contingent crowded around Mickey in the computer room near the labs, watching as he fired up the machine with a few keystrokes. Donald and Goofy stood to either side of him, reminiscing upon the last time they'd dealt with that particular computer and the whole world inside of it. This seemed a much more mundane task.

Cid provided Mickey with the proper passwords to bypass Ansem's security, and Mickey soon announced, "I'm in the system. Now to link up to the Disney Castle mainframe!"

More waiting and watching as Mickey typed. "Got it!" the mouse king announced. "Now for the hard part: decrypting the password for the Claymores. Hmm. Where to start?"

"Shot in the dark here," Nora suggested, "but what if it's seriously just 'Mozenrath'?"

"He wouldn't be that dumb," Nick commented.

"Really?" Nora countered. "Are you sure about that?"

Mickey entered the name. "Nope," he announced. "Didn't work. Any other ideas?"

"What was special to him?" Madison asked, turning to Genie, Sadira, and Abu, the latter of whom perched upon Sadira's shoulder. "What did Mozenrath really care about?"

"Magic," Sadira answered.

"The throne of the Black Sands, if anything," Genie suggested.

Abu made a series of high-pitched cheeping noises.

"Try those," Madison suggested.

But it was to no avail. "We're going to have to go around this a different way," Mickey realized. "Either legitimate decryption or hacking."

"I can help ya some there," Cid offered, "but not all the way. This ol' computer's a finicky bastard."

"Between our Ansem using it, Maleficent and the other Ansem trading it off, and Xemnas employing it in his experiments after the formation of the Organization," Ienzo explained, "it's a wonder it still works. Half of the functions are off kilter. The trash bin doesn't even let you throw out any trash."

"But some programs do still work," Aerith confirmed. "We can talk you through it."

"So, uh…no offense, but how long is this gonna take?" Chip asked.

"As long as it needs to!" Donald huffed.

"Gosh, it's gotta be boring just watchin' us type on this computer," Mickey realized. "How about you all go about doing what you need to do, or at least go have some fun? Donald, Goofy, Cid, Aerith, and I can handle the password. We'll tell everyone else once we have news!"

Aerith turned to Ienzo. "You could probably help us, too."

"Less than you'd think," Ienzo told her. "The most I know about this system is the experiments Xemnas used it for, and those aren't going to be helpful in this case. He never set up a link to Disney Castle. I'm afraid I'll be rather useless."

Aerith nodded. "All right. Then you should go take some time off."

"There's always work to be done," he told her, but he turned to leave the room anyway.

The entire group save the five Mickey had named dispersed from the room. Leon approached Sadira, asking, "Can I talk to you in the hourglass room for a minute?"

"Sure," Sadira agreed, following Leon to the designated place.

Jaune weaved through the crowd to catch up to Kairi. "Uh…hey," he greeted. "Where are you going?"

"I haven't quite decided yet," Kairi admitted. "What about you?"

"Well, I, uh…" Jaune flushed, clearly nervous. "There's…something I wanted to talk to you about. Something important. And I kind of wanted to tell you…alone."

"Okay," Kairi said with a nod, appearing calm on the outside despite the pounding of her heart as she considered what Jaune might have wanted to pull her aside for. "Should we talk in your room? Or how about mine?"

"Actually, can we go somewhere kinda…nice?" Jaune asked. "Just to fit the mood."

"How about we go for a walk in the town square?" Kairi asked excitedly. "The sun's out, and it's a beautiful day! No one should be listening to us."

"That sounds perfect!" Jaune replied with enthusiasm.

They strolled together out of the castle, down the road and into the center of town. All the while, Jaune fumbled for how to put together his words. "So, uh…" he began once they were beneath the shining sun. "I've been thinking – "

Kairi was attentive until they crossed the threshold of the central square, at which point her focus was brought down hard elsewhere. "Oh, Jaune! LOOK!" she cried, rushing toward a great swath of soil embedded in the cobblestone. There were in fact four such patches, forming quadrants that surrounded the walking area. In each patch, bunches of tiny flowers of all colors had cropped up.

"The flowers!" Kairi gasped as she knelt near a patch that bore red blooms. "Jaune, these used to grow when I was a kid. When I actually lived here. I forgot all about them until I saw the patches of dirt a while ago. After the town was reclaimed from Maleficent, nobody had time to replant the flowers. But now they're growing again! And…" She then realized how rudely she'd interrupted Jaune, standing to face him. "Sorry," she said sheepishly. "I shouldn't have interrupted."

But Jaune was smiling. "No, no, it's okay!" he assured her. "I know how important that stuff is. I'm glad it's making you happy." He didn't know when he would ever see Vale in a state other than disrepair, and he would have given a great deal to be able to look over familiar sights like that again. To that end, he wanted Kairi to have her flowers. He wanted proof that beauty could grow in a home that had once been destroyed, and he wanted it to be hers.

"Well, I should still listen to you when you're trying to tell me something important," Kairi emphasized, walking back to where Jaune stood. Automatically, their feet were set into synchronized motion, taking them upward to where the road formed ledges above the flower garden and bringing them in a circular direction around it. "You said you'd been thinking about something."

"Well, yeah," Jaune picked up. "Just…how uncertain everything is. If my Semblance wasn't what it was, we would have lost Nora on Atmos. But the other problem is that if it had been anyone but Nora, I wouldn't have been able to save them. If it had been you…I wouldn't have been able to…to…" He faltered, forcing himself to start a new sentence. "There's just danger everywhere. And we've been getting really lucky. I don't know when something might happen to…to break us apart." He wanted desperately to move away from the topic of death. "And that got me thinking. If there's something I've been keeping from someone else, something that could let them know how really valuable for me, I need to say it now, in case – well, in case." He stopped, standing still. "Kairi…can you…look at me?"

She wondered if he was about to say what she thought he was going to say. What she hoped he was going to say. Both eager and nervous, she halted her own footsteps, meeting Jaune's deep blue gaze.

"I think you're one of the kindest, most amazing people I've ever met," Jaune told her. "You're strong, too, and you know how to keep everyone else around you going strong when things look really bad. Every day since I met you, I've been really glad I DID meet you. Sometimes I can't believe how lucky I am that we're friends. But the thing is, it's not JUST…I mean, friendship is great and all, and I love you as a friend – not that I LOVE you, but I DO…well…like you. And I mean I LIKE you like you. I have for a while. And I just thought you needed to know. Don't feel like you have to like me back. Though, okay, yeah, I'd love if you did. But I just wanted to tell you in case…well, you can imagine in case what. And that's why I wanted to talk to you, and now you know, and now I'm just kinda rambling because I have no idea how to stop, so I should stop, and I'm gonna stop." He clamped his lips shut, watching Kairi's reaction.

She had pressed both hands against her mouth, her eyes staring wide. "Jaune!" she squeaked once he'd finished. "I can't…" She lowered her hands, revealing a beaming smile. "You're amazing, Jaune. You know that? You care about everyone so much. You're kind, too, and brave, for everything you did. I'm so glad we're friends, but the truth is that I like you too! In the same way!"

"I'd been wondering," Jaune confessed. "Sometimes I thought I saw signs. But our friendship mattered first."

"I'd been wondering about you, too," Kairi admitted, "but…what about…"

"Pyrrha?" Jaune filled in. "She'd want me to move on. And the thing is, I did. I don't really even remember when it happened. But I moved on. And…since we both feel the same about each other…do you think maybe, since we have all this time, we could…go on a date?"

"I'd LOVE to go on a date!" Kairi replied. "I know a lot of nice cafés here in town where we can sit and talk over some tea, if that's what you'd like to do."

"That sounds perfect, actually," Jaune told her. "Why don't you show me your favorite?"

"Okay!" Kairi nodded. "This way!" She geared up to run off, but was held back. Now that certain barriers were down, she wished for just a little more contact. "Do you mind if I hold your hand on the way there?" she asked shyly.

"I'd love that," Jaune replied.

She laced her fingers into his, and they started out slow, then picked up speed until they were running, Kairi guiding their direction. The sunlight seemed to put extra air beneath their feet and inflate both their hearts with joy, but perhaps it wasn't the sun at all, but their proximity to each other.

...

Alone in her apartment, Scarlet Overkill stood before a full-length mirror. She twirled, watching her skirt spin out. Herb had hinted at designing her an upgraded version of the dress, with more room to store weaponry. She was sure whatever he came up with would be diabolically lovely.

The tiara rested on a nearby table. Carefully sweeping it up into hand, Scarlet settled it among her high-stacked hair, giving the mirror a proud grin. She put up a hand to wave delicately, saying "Thank you, thank you all!" to an imaginary crowd. Lowering the hand, she went on: "Now, for my first act as queen, I'm declaring my birthday a national holiday. Getting your queen a present is compulsory, and anyone who doesn't comply WILL be jailed."

She giggled at that. "Which reminds me, I have a warrant out for arrest for a certain child carrying a freeze ray around like it's a toy. I demand he be brought to me at once so that I may sentence him to a lifetime of imprison – " She gasped. "NO! To an instant, bloody EXECUTION!" Thinking it over… "Make that a slow execution. I don't have a torture chamber for nothing, after all."

An insistent rap came upon the door.

"Coming!" Scarlet barked, quickly setting the tiara aside. She scuttled toward the door.

And just as she realized it was odd that the visitor hadn't spoken, the knock came again, accompanied by a voice – a high, tinny voice. "SCARLET!" it belted.

Scarlet froze. The voice was unmistakable. And knowing it was who it was, she was not about to open that door. She backed up, step by step.

More knocks, from at least three tiny fists. High-pitched babbling, culminating in a chorus of voices squeaking "SCARLET! SCARLET! SCARLET!"

"Just go away," she whispered to herself. She dipped into the bedroom, reappearing with the lava gun. If they weren't going to leave her alone, they were going to learn a very painful lesson. How had they gotten into the base, anyhow? Why hadn't they been noticed by anyone else? Or had they been noticed by Mim and Aghoul, who thought sending them to Scarlet's door would be a hilarious joke?

The chanting was now louder, more insistent: "SCAR-LET! SCAR-LET! SCAR-LET!"

"Rrrrrgh…" Scarlet growled, hoisting the gun high as she stormed to the door. "I'M GIVING YOU ALL UNTIL THE COUNT OF THREE TO GO AWAY!" she yelled.

That induced a silence.

"ONE…"

Still no sound ensued.

"TWO…"

Perhaps they'd left, Scarlet thought once her threat was two-thirds completed. Cautiously, she reached for the door, turning the handle. She thought about easing it slowly open, then decided it was better to rip the bandage off in one motion.

As she flung the door open, she was greeted by the sight of a horde of them. Minions. Every single tiny yellow blob dressed in the same denim overalls and goggles. They filled the hallway, throwing up their hands in the air and cheering at Scarlet's appearance.

"SCARLEEEEEEEET!" they chorused.

With a wordless yell, Scarlet pulled the trigger on the gun, letting the lava spew forth and cover her targets. She absolutely drenched every last Minion, waiting for the burning to ensue.

It rolled off them like water off a duck. Had Minions always been this resistant to extreme, metal-melting temperatures? Admittedly, Scarlet hadn't expected that.

She didn't have much time to reel in confusion. As she regarded the Minions, eyes wide, they began to pour into her apartment, hands reaching out to grab her. "SCAR-LET!" they chanted again. "SCAR-LET! SCAR-LET!"

The Minions had always idolized her. Had followed her around like ducklings imprinting on a mother. Yet somehow, Scarlet had a strong feeling of unease, as though she knew that this time, the Minions meant her some sort of harm.

She swung the now empty gun, batting the first wave of them away. Leaping out into the hallway, her shoes bounced off their heads; she bounded over the crowd until she hit a bare patch of hall and could take off running, which she did immediately.

With a cacophony of squeaking, the Minions gave chase, surging forth like a demonic tidal wave. Scarlet kept glancing over her shoulder, fearing them getting close to her. The hallway stretched on and on; surely Scarlet had to be getting close to a landmark of note, a route of deviation, or another member of the WHAM ARMY who could sort this out. But there was only more hall the further Scarlet ran.

She couldn't say exactly why she knew the Minions catching up to her would mean certain doom. She was convinced of it. And she was about to be proven horribly correct.

Scarlet shot another glance over her shoulder at the mass of yellow and denim. When she turned back, she saw Herb further down the hall, regarding her with confusion. "Scarlet?" he said tentatively.

"Herb!" she yelled. "HERB, RUN!"

Herb just laughed. "Scarlet, what's the big deal?" he said casually as she neared him, reached out to grab his upper arm and drag him along. "They're harmless, remember?"

"WE HAVE TO GO!" Scarlet insisted, forcing Herb to follow her.

He snapped his arm out of her grip, turning to face the wave of Minions – all seeming to bleed into one vast being – head-on. "Hey, little guys!" he laughed. "What's been shakin'?"

"Herb, NO!" Scarlet rounded to see the view.

The Minions washed over Herb, engulfing him. She heard his cries of sudden fear: "Um, what are you doing? Hey, don't – don't DO that – NO! NO, PLEASE, NO – "

A sound like tearing paper and crackling twigs.

But Scarlet knew that wasn't what it was when she saw a disembodied arm, then a leg, surface atop the crowd, surfing the wave, passed from Minion to Minion. A considerable segment of the rush was now soaked red with blood, and the pieces of Herb kept on bobbing up. The fact that he was no longer screaming for them to stop let Scarlet know that he was beyond salvation.

They'd nearly gained on her. Not wanting to meet the same fate as her love, Scarlet began to sprint again, barreling down the hall. It had to turn, it had to fork, there had to be a door to one of the public rooms just up ahead –

The heaviness throbbing within her that Herb was gone, gone, gone –

...

Scarlet woke up screaming, sitting up sharply in bed.

Next to her, Herb jostled a bit before rolling over on his side and solidifying his sleep.

A nightmare. It had all been a nightmare. There were no Minions in the base. Especially not ones out for Overkill blood.

Scarlet shuddered. She looked upon Herb for a good five minutes to confirm that he was there, that he was breathing.

Then she slid out of bed, her feet padding toward the kitchen. She needed a hot drink.

...

Alone in the hourglass room, Leon and Sadira stared each other down.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" Sadira asked coyly.

Leon nodded toward the hourglass. "You did fine work."

"Thank you." Sadira gave an exaggeratedly dramatic shrug. "I try."

"It occurred to me that we may not have properly thanked you for this," Leon went on.

"Well, you did," Sadira told him. "Just now."

"No," Leon corrected, fishing a pouch from within a pocket. "I had something else in mind." He held out his hand, which now bore a lumpy brown purse. After Sadira gave the purse a quizzical look, Leon commanded, "Take it."

Sadira gently took the purse into her own hands, opening it up and shifting the contents about. "Wow," she remarked. "There is…a LOT of munny in here." She turned her gaze up to Leon. "Waiiiiiit a minute. You're not giving me this out of charity, are you? Because I don't take charity."

"It's honest pay for honest work," Leon told her, though he'd suspected she wouldn't take well to the idea of charity from the beginning. "It wouldn't be fair to ask this of you for nothing." He thought to himself that if the extended stays the castle's various guests were making turned out to be longer still, he and the rest of the Committee would have to come up with ways to provide for them while they were away from home, and it would get more and more difficult to claim it wasn't charity. This, however, he could give with a valid explanation.

"I've never really had this kind of money all at once," Sadira admitted. "I don't even know what to do with it."

"Well – " Leon began.

"That's a lie," Sadira said quickly, her eyes lighting up. "I know EXACTLY what I'm doing with this!" Excited, she turned on a heel to exit the room. Twisting back over her shoulder as she ran, she put up a hand and waved, calling out, "Thanks, Leon!"

Leon folded his arms and let himself smile.

...

Link, Zelda, and Midna guided their newfound companions across a vast expanse of Twilight-touched land, forging a way into a heavily wooded forest where shadows grew long even in the absence of sunlight. The way to the resting place of the Master Sword was hidden in a cliffside and past a network of caverns that connected segments of forestation.

"This used to feel a lot more like the sacred place it is," Link lamented as he beheld the warped wood.

"It looks like it was really pretty," Sora agreed.

"Now it's all…wrong," Jasmine said with disgust.

"Is it?" Midna sniffed. "I suppose. This was a world of Light, after all."

"It feels…corrupted," Jasmine went on.

"What do you mean, 'corrupted'?" Midna asked. "Are you saying you can just feel it on your skin?"

"It's more like I can feel it inside," Jasmine corrected. "I think…being a Princess of Heart and being connected to the Light allows me to feel that corruption."

"I don't like the way you're saying 'corruption,'" Midna growled.

"What, is there any other word for it?" Aladdin, ever loyal to Jasmine, asked with an edge to his voice.

"We will save this place," Zelda stated. "We will return the Light to it."

"The sooner this evil is gone, the better," Aladdin emphasized.

"You know," Midna snapped, "just because the Twilight doesn't belong here doesn't mean it doesn't belong anywhere! If you really think that, maybe you just want me gone! Is that it?"

"That's not what she means, Midna," Zelda said calmly.

"What?" Aladdin asked. "Was Jasmine wrong?"

"Did you already forget?" Midna barked. "My whole world is Twilight! This is how I live every day, and it suits me just fine! It's not evil! It's just misplaced!"

"Well," Aladdin replied, "I…what I meant was…"

"It's all right," Jasmine said, realizing the mistake she made. "I wasn't thinking. I did forget, and I apologize."

"Yeah…me too," Aladdin said sheepishly.

"Hmph!" Midna huffed. "I'm glad I know how you REALLY feel now!"

"She said she was sorry," Katara pointed out. "I think we're all too used to thinking like people who belong to worlds of Light."

"I thought you'd understand that Light isn't the be-all end-all," Midna answered with a tint of curiosity in her voice. "One of your friends is still pretty good friends with outright Darkness."

"That's right!" Aladdin realized, looking to Riku. "Hey, Riku, sorry if I – "

"Don't worry about it," Riku replied calmly. "I wasn't offended. But it is a mistake to think that just because something is close to Darkness, it's evil. The Darkness is where evil lurks because it can't be seen. But there are lots of things in the dark that aren't what you think."

"Does that mean the Light isn't all good either?" Ruby wondered out loud.

"I've never met a bad source of Light," Sora mused. "I guess it's possible for there to be bad Light out there."

"When I get too close to pure Light," Midna explained, "it burns. Maybe it's not evil, but it sure does hurt."

"Too much Light can probably be as hurtful as too much Darkness," Jasmine theorized. "Knowing that…I won't think of the Twilight as evil again. Like you said, it's just misplaced."

"I'm gonna trust you on this one," Aladdin told Midna.

"That was a nice apology," Midna said haughtily, "but you're going to have to make it up to me."

"How?" Jasmine asked.

"I haven't decided," Midna answered. "Maybe I'll make you catch me a hundred reekfish and make me a nice soup out of them. Or maybe I'll just make you declare to all of your friends that I'm more beautiful than all of them."

"We're not doing that!" Aladdin snapped.

Midna turned and gave the royal pair a wink. "Oh," Jasmine realized. "You were joking."

"I SHOULD HOPE SHE WAS!" Papyrus broke in. "HER, MORE BEAUTIFUL THAN ME? I THINK NOT!"

"I know this is going to sound like I'm just trying to pander," Stork said, "but I'm actually starting to find this whole Twilight thing kind of calming. I might even call it 'ambient.'"

"Trust me," Ruby told Midna, "he's not pandering."

"Your whole world is like this?" Stork went on. "I'd like to see that."

"Let's focus on saving this one first," Midna suggested.

The path brought them to a sudden drop; a pit, though one with enough stonework left over that it had clearly once been a rounded tower, loomed below, and an exit seemed to continue from there. Link took a running leap off the edge of the ground above, landing with bent knees in the pit below.

"That, on the other hand, does not look safe," Stork observed.

"It's not that bad of a jump," Aladdin stated after sizing up the drop; he plunged after Link. Upon landing, he turned back and called up, "It's not as far down as it looks!"

One by one, all made the jump down into the pit, with Stork going last. The party then continued through a crevice in the wall and came out at a wide, square field walled in by stone. At one end, a door was flanked by a pair of enormous stone humanoids. Grass sprouted up from the ground, but was clear around a square space that held a tile carved with the triangular symbol of the Triforce.

"Stand back," Link advised. "I think I'm the only one who can do this." He strode onto the tile, taking a deep breath as he did so.

Once he had positioned himself upon the tile, the others, save Midna, were surprised to hear a deep voice rumble out from one of the stone statues: "We are…guardians…"

Link and Midna immediately knew it was not as it should have been. The guardians had previously spoken in deep, booming tones, without hesitation. Now affected by the Twilight, their speech was altered, tentative, with more gravel and hush.

"We recall…a beast…" the other said. "Barely, but…we recall…"

"You were…that beast…" the first continued. "We granted…"

"Passage…" the other finished. "Now…we do not know…"

"How to…test the unworthy…we simply hope…"

"The worthy…return. Are you…the one…we remember?"

"If so…please…claim the power of the goddesses again…"

"Save us…"

The door slid upward into the wall with no further protest from the guardians. A stairway was revealed beyond, leading upward. To the surprise of all gathered, however, there was a faint illumination touching the base of the stairway: light.

"Let's go," Link commanded, and the group filtered into the doorway and up the steps.

At the zenith, what awaited was not more woodland infected by Twilight, but instead a clearing, surrounded by trees, that appeared wholly unaffected at all: its grass was still green, the air light. In the grove's center, what was clearly a sword was planted into a small stone dais so that it stood upright. A soft light pulsed out from the weapon.

Link approached gingerly; most of the others watched in awe, while Midna regarded the scene with casual familiarity. Link's hand settled around the grip of the sword – a metal dyed purple, sweeping outward to either side like wings – and he hoisted the sword upward, the light from its blade increasing in intensity as he did so. It gleamed so brightly, the others had to shield their eyes, and Midna felt a strong heat emanating from the sword's general direction.

Once the sword was raised, the blessing over the clearing was broken. Twilight crawled in, tinting the scenery dark.

"You know," Ruby remarked with her eyes upon the blade, "combination weapons are well-suited for the modern huntress, but you really can't beat the classics."

Link sheathed the sword at the empty place in his belt where he had brought the inferior weapon to Zelda's ceremony of matrimony. "This should help us," he remarked.

"Unless, of course, we were wrong about the whole 'sol' thing and that sword does us absolutely no good," Stork commented.

"I THINK IT'S GOING TO WORK!" Papyrus insisted.

"We don't have another choice," Riku reminded everyone, "so we might as well hope for the best."

"We can start with the Faron province," Link announced. "It's closest – "

"No," Zelda broke in. "We should start with the Lanayru province. That will liberate Castle Town and free our friends who are gathered there."

"If we have allies in Castle Town," Jasmine added, "maybe it would be better to start there."

"Either way sounds good to me," Sora said with a shrug.

"Well, this is Zelda's kingdom," Katara pointed out, "so maybe we should go with her."

"I won't argue," Midna chimed in.

Zelda nodded. "Then we will go to the spirit Lanayru first."

...

Herb Overkill was brought out of sleep gently, taking a few moments to transition into full consciousness. What exactly woke him, he couldn't define; it was best described as the feeling that something was fundamentally wrong.

He donned clothing suitable for daytime tasks and entered the kitchen of his and Scarlet's apartment, where the aforementioned woman was seated at the table, staring down into a cup of hot chocolate.

When Scarlet became aware of Herb's presence, her head snapped right up, and she stood in the blink of an eye, darting across the room to wrap Herb in an embrace. "Oh, Herb…"

"Scarlet?" Herb replied, perplexed, as he placed a single hand on Scarlet's back to offer comfort. "What's going on?"

"I had the worst nightmare," Scarlet groaned.

"All this over a nightmare?"

"Well, it wasn't just ANY nightmare!" Scarlet explained, tightening her grip. "Those filthy little CREATURES were back, and they wouldn't stop chasing me, and they got ahold of you, and…ohhh, honey, I'm just glad you're safe."

She let go then, backing off. "I know, I know," she sighed, "it's silly getting this worked up over a little bad dream…"

"Well, that's just how it is sometimes," Herb said with a shrug. "Go with the flow. I am not here to judge how you react to a nightmare."

"Good," Scarlet sighed. "Anyway, I'd really like to change the subject. And change the scenery, come to think of it."

"Then let's get out of here," Herb agreed. He approached the apartment door, holding it open wide. "After you, my queen."

"Oh, stop," Scarlet replied, giving Herb's cheek a coy pinch on her way out. Herb followed her into the great hall, impressed as usual by the iron chandelier that loomed overhead, dominating the room's décor.

"So," Scarlet began, "now that we're here and we know the ins and outs of the base, I figured we should learn a little more about the other worlds around us. Maybe get an idea of which one we could make into our own personal kingdom after the big spell gets cast."

The chandelier, Herb realized, looked almost exactly the same as the one that had hung over Scarlet's coronation day. The one the Minions had dropped on her. The difference, of course, was that this one was much larger. Otherwise, it was the spitting image –

Why was he looking up at the chandelier when Scarlet was talking?

A better question: had there actually always been a chandelier here? Because Herb suddenly had the feeling he had misremembered the layout of this room entirely.

An even better question: since when did the door to the Overkill apartment lead out into this room, which Herb was now certain he'd never seen before in his life?

Instinctively, he took two steps back.

"I mean, logically speaking," Scarlet went on, "there has to be some version of England out there that – "

"SCARLET, LOOK OUT!"

Herb didn't fully know why he knew what was about to happen. He reached out toward Scarlet, now realizing he should have done something to pull her in his direction when he'd stepped back –

She danced out of his reach, directly beneath the chandelier.

With a massive metallic creak, the ceiling fixture became completely detached from above, crashing down upon Scarlet.

"NO!" Herb cried, clambering over the network of iron. "No. No, no, no, no…it's just like last time. It'll be like last time. She'll be fine…you'll be fine, my queen, you'll be – "

He choked on his own voice when he caught sight of her body pinned beneath the metal bars. Still, twisted, leaking red. The crushed state of her head caused vomit to arise to the back of Herb's throat; he forced it back down into place.

It couldn't be happening, he told himself. It wasn't real. It wasn't real –

...

It wasn't real.

Herb sat up in bed, now actually awake.

The chandelier. The crash. It had all just been a dream.

He shuddered, recalling how realistic it seemed. He'd "woken up" from the exact same place he'd fallen asleep. It was funny how the mind knew to do that when creating dreams.

Without bothering to change out of his pajamas, he made his way teeteringly to the kitchen, where Scarlet, just as in his dream, was hunched over a cup of steaming hot liquid.

She looked up sharply once he entered. In one fluid motion, she stood, rushing to Herb, catching him in an embrace as she moaned, "Oh, Herb – "

"Oh, no," Herb muttered. "No, no, no, no, no."

"I had the worst nightmare," Scarlet groaned.

"No; that's what you said the last time!" Herb cried, squirming to get free of Scarlet's grasp.

"The…last time?" Scarlet said in confusion as she let Herb go.

He rushed to the door, throwing it open. It led out into the hallway, as it always did. As it was supposed to. There was no great hall. No chandelier.

"Herb?" Scarlet asked. "Is everything okay?"

"…Yeah," Herb said tentatively, shutting the door. "So. Nightmare. What was it about?"

"It wasn't just ANY nightmare," Scarlet said sternly. "Those little CREATURES were back, and they wouldn't stop chasing me, and they got ahold of you, and – "

Herb slapped himself in the face.

"Okay, I'm missing something here," Scarlet realized.

"That is EXACTLY what you said last time," Herb said breathlessly. "It's happening again. I'm dreaming again, and you're going to die again – "

"Wait, what?" Scarlet flinched. "Herb, what do you mean die AGAIN?"

"Nightmare," Herb explained. "You said all that stuff EXACTLY. Then we went out into the hall, and there was a chandelier, and – " He opened the door again. Still the regular hallway. He shut the door.

"You had a nightmare too?" Scarlet reiterated. "Okay, that's definitely a little odd. Well, you're awake now."

"Are you SURE?" Herb asked in a panic. "Because everything's happening the EXACT same way it did in the nightmare, except that chandelier isn't there!"

"It's okay!" Scarlet said hurriedly as she rushed to Herb to lay her hands upon the sides of his face gently. "It's okay, it's all right. You're not dreaming anymore."

"How do I know?" Herb asked. "I don't know!"

"What exactly happened with the chandelier?" Scarlet asked.

"It…fell…" Herb choked out. "And…you…were under it…"

"Herb, honey," Scarlet reminded him, "I already survived one falling chandelier. I can handle another one. But your nightmare was really about losing me?"

He nodded.

"That is so sweet," Scarlet commented. "Well, okay, it's not sweet that you're terrified, but you know what I mean, right? Actually, my dream kind of ended with you getting torn to pieces, so…"

"Aw, Scarlet!" Herb remarked, forgetting his crisis of wakefulness versus repeating dream. "Guess this kinda makes us the perfect couple, doesn't it?"

"It sure does," Scarlet affirmed. "Though…something weird is going on here." She lowered her hands to her sides. "We both have nightmares around the same time. Your nightmare accurately predicts things I was going to say in real life. And I'm going to go out on a limb here and say each of our nightmares played on one of our worst fears."

"Sounds about right," Herb confirmed.

"These nightmares aren't ordinary," Scarlet muttered.

"Maybe we should go talk to the others," Herb suggested. "I mean, Mim has all those mad witch powers, right? She could make them stop."

"If she wants to," Scarlet huffed. "On the other hand, I just realized this would be exactly her idea of a prank. She BETTER not have sent us these nightmares just for fun. But I get the feeling she would."

"Yeah, she's pretty morbid," Herb realized. "What about the guy she's dating, though? Not Rémington. The other one. Ayam Aghost."

"It's Aghoul, honey. Ayam Aghoul."

"Riiiiight. That makes more sense. Because he doesn't…you can't walk through him…anyway, he kinda gives me the same vibe of thinking these nightmares would be hilarious. I wouldn't rule him out either."

"Looks like we have a talking-to to give," Scarlet grunted. "We're going to find them and make them spill the beans about what, exactly, they're doing to us."

"Good idea." Herb reached for the door, about to open it and offer that "my queen" should go first, but remembering his course of action in the nightmare stopped him.

Scarlet picked up the slack, pulling open the door. "After you?"

Herb stalked out into the hallway, shooting nervous glances at the unadorned ceiling. Scarlet followed, filled with determination.

She wasn't about to cut ties with two of the hosts that had graciously opened their base to give her and Herb a home over some nightmares. But she was about to give them the slightest of hard times if either turned out to be the responsible party.

...

Standing before the gates of the Radiant Garden castle, Archibald Snatcher mentioned, "Don't forget what we talked about, Bridgit."

"We talked about at least three hundred things about this plan," Garfield Lynns responded. "You're going to have to be more specific."

"The opening line," Snatcher clarified. "Dehydration. You're in desperate need of water, and that's how we'll get our foot in the door."

"Riiiiiight," Garfield confirmed. "Hey, isn't it kind of messed up that you're calling my dragsona by her first name, but not your own boyfriend?"

"I wouldn't do it if you weren't my daughter," Snatcher said through gritted teeth. "Believe me, it's going to take a great amount of willpower not to refer to you as 'Miss Pike.'"

"How about if you slip up and do it, you owe me twenty bucks? Or, y'know, twenty of those crystal things we used to buy these weapons."

"I'm not about to take such a fool bet, Bridgit."

"I think you're scared."

"And I do believe that is a cheap tactic used to manipulate others into taking fool bets," Snatcher argued. "Now, do cease prolonging the charade and knock on the door."

Snatcher and Garfield raised right fists at the exact same time, rapping on the door in different rhythms.

Luna, Ienzo, and Merlin exited the library together, deep in discussion. "It does amaze me," Ienzo told Merlin. "By all schools of magic I've studied, you should have had to leave your physical form behind to do such travel through time."

"Well, it is possible to travel through time without abandoning your body," Luna clarified, "but only with the use of complex incantations and rituals, and even then, only for short periods of time. What you do defies all knowledge of magic I possess."

"It wasn't easy," Merlin replied. "I've devoted at least a couple centuries to mastering the art, as I imagine anyone would have to. And you would recoil at the tales of what happened when I got it wrong! Best not remembered, any of it. I wouldn't recommend either of you undertake the study unless you had a couple hundred years to spare."

"Perhaps if I need a hobby," Luna teased. "I still have a few thousand years left in me, after all."

"Well, you can count me out," Ienzo sighed.

That was when the dual knock came upon the door. "Visitors?" Merlin identified.

"We should answer," Ienzo said, his feet already taking him in the direction of the door.

"Quite right," Merlin agreed, following Ienzo; Luna accompanied them. Before either of the men could touch the door, Luna's magic surged through the crack that separated the double halves, prying the door open to reveal two haggard-looking people – one apparently male, and one apparently female.

"This is castle of committee, no?" Snatcher said in his most convincing Russian accent.

"Yes," Ienzo said with a nod. "The Radiant Garden Restoration Committee."

"Thank heaven!" Snatcher replied. "Have been searching long time for safe place. Was told committee would protect. My daughter, she has not had water in long time, and is suffering severe dehydration."

"Oh, the heat!" Garfield moaned in his best impression of a feminine tone, swooning and collapsing in front of Snatcher and forcing the taller man to catch him in outstretched arms.

"Did not think daughter was THAT dehydrated," Snatcher grumbled, concerned that Garfield was overselling the act.

"I need water, or I will literally die right here!" Garfield went on. "Please, before I turn into a corpse before your very eyes!"

"I think committee gets point," Snatcher muttered.

"Please, come in, come in!" Merlin beckoned. "Far be it from us to deny shelter and water from those in need!"

Ienzo's eyes traveled over the strategic tears and worries in Snatcher and Garfield's clothing. "What have you been through?" he asked.

"Is long story!" Snatcher emphasized. "First, food and drink! Then telling of sad tale!"

"Can you walk?" Luna asked Garfield.

"I…I'll try…" Garfield said weakly, forcing himself to stand and putting a drag in his step. "I think…I can make it…Dad, I can see a bright light. Is that normal?"

Snatcher was highly starting to regret his choice in partner. Garfield had no sense of subtlety. "Is probably glare from natural lighting in castle," he grunted. "Now walk."

Luna, Merlin, and Ienzo were somewhat taken aback at the gruff way the older of the two visitors was addressing his clearly weakened daughter, but they supposed there would be time to address the situation later. "This way," Ienzo said as he turned to lead the group. "The kitchen is only a lift ride from here."

"Might I ask your names?" Merlin asked as the five made their way to the lifts.

"I am called Nikolai," Snatcher introduced. "Nikolai Pike. This is daughter Bridgit."

"My name is Ienzo," Ienzo responded. "These are my colleagues, Merlin and Princess Luna of Equestria. I would say it's a pleasure to meet you, but perhaps we should make your circumstances less dire before saying such things."

Within moments, the five were situated around a small table in the midst of the well-stocked kitchen, where gleaming metal pans hung off polished wooden cabinets and piping running along the ceiling occasionally leaked magic. Garfield downed half a pitcher of ice water, wishing he'd thought of some way to spin his story so that Bridgit would have been in dire need of something alcoholic instead.

"You come bearing weapons," Merlin observed.

"We are warriors," Snatcher explained. "Long and hard we have fought Heartless in collapse of homeworld."

"That is terrible," Luna commented.

"It is life," Snatcher responded. "Though committee has seen hardship among these creatures, no?"

Garfield set down the water pitcher he had been drinking straight out of, discreetly putting a hand below the table to fish a scroll out of a skirt pocket. It was time to begin recording audio.

"Frustratingly so," Merlin harrumphed. "Can't go a single day without having to put up with such nonsense. Though I daresay they haven't been as hard on us as they have on you, from the looks of things."

"Why don't you tell us what happened?" Luna asked.

"Where did you come from?" Ienzo added.

A shock of horror ran down both Snatcher and Garfield's spines. For all the plotting they had done to achieve their charade, they had not actually agreed upon a name for their destroyed homeworld.

For a moment, Snatcher thought they were saved, as Mickey Mouse chose that moment to enter the kitchen. "Heya, fellas!" he greeted. "Made some new friends?"

The rat from the castle, Snatcher identified, incorrect as he was about the species. Now his disguise would truly be put to the test; would Mickey recognize him? "'Friend' is strong word," Snatcher huffed. "Have only just met."

"I would be glad to call anyone who saved my life a friend," Garfield said with just a bit too much enthusiasm.

"The Pike family are survivors from a collapsed world," Ienzo explained. "Bridgit was on death's door when they showed up."

"Was minor case of dehydration," Snatcher grumbled.

"Gosh!" Mickey remarked. "That sounds terrible!"

"We were just about to hear their tale," Luna reminded everyone. She nodded to Snatcher. "Go on, Nikolai."

Snatcher was back on the spot, mind racing. Garfield joined that race to see who the first would be to come up with the name of their fallen world. Both figured the best strategy would be to make up a name and hope the others would take it for granted that they'd never heard of it. The predominant thought on Garfield's mind, however, was how he would much rather be having this conversation in a bar than a kitchen, and what came out of his mouth was "Uh…bar?"

Snatcher, taking a direct look at Mickey, immediately followed up with "Rat?"

"GOODNESS!" Merlin cried so suddenly that Snatcher and Garfield both flinched in their seats. "You mean to tell me you escaped the ABARAT? Be glad Heartless were the biggest of your concerns!"

"You know of their world?" Ienzo asked.

"Of course I know of their world!" Merlin said with a huff. "The Abarat has undergone a most frightening transformation headed by a powerful witch. Darkness has spread over it in what can only truly be described as…absolute midnight. Fearsome beasts of evil are tearing it apart at the seams!"

"This seems like a world we should perhaps be doing more to help," Luna suggested.

"Not without extreme organization and far more forces!" Merlin insisted. "I might be one to use the term 'disaster zone' lightly, but in this case, it is well warranted!" He turned his attention back to Snatcher and Garfield. "My deepest condolences."

"Thank you," Snatcher replied with feigned sincerity. "Escape was difficult. Bridgit's mother was lost in struggle. Mourn her every waking moment."

Now who's laying it on thick? Garfield thought.

"Is too tragic to continue talking about," Snatcher continued. "Would rather not dwell on what was lost in past. We made it here, and are looking to future."

"Well, you've come to the right place!" Mickey insisted.

"We've had all sorts of houseguests lately who've been under similar circumstances," Merlin explained.

"Many have come here in the wake of their homes meeting with tragedy, such as Luna," Ienzo explained. "Others have simply joined us out of a desire to help out."

"Help out?" Garfield asked. "With what?"

"We've had a bit of a pest problem," Merlin grunted. "I couldn't say which has been more of an annoyance: Maleficent and her goons or Mozenrath and his!"

"You would be welcome to stay," Ienzo said, "but you would have to be aware of what you're signing up for. This is a safe place, but it is still being targeted by many a foe."

"Imagine that," Snatcher replied, pushing back a smirk.

"It can't be much worse than what we've already faced," Garfield brought up.

"Say, sorry if this is rude," Mickey broke in, "but why d'ya have two different accents?"

This, Snatcher was ready for. "Made difficult move from old country to new country before Bridgit was born," he explained. "Daughter grew up with ways and vocal patterns of new country. I retained ways and accent of old. Also explains why Miss Pike has no taste for real food. Has grown up with tasteless and bland palate of…why are you staring at me like that?"

Garfield just gave Snatcher a nudge.

"Do not understand," Snatcher told Garfield.

"You don't owe me twenty," Garfield said simply.

Miss Pike. Snatcher realized it. Thankfully, none of his audience seemed to have caught on. The four onlookers tilted their heads, confused at the current conversation.

"…Is inside topic," Snatcher said quickly.

"Please tell me more about the other people who have come to stay here," Garfield urged. "I want to know who our friends are."

"I think first, we should give you a proper warning of the forces against us," Ienzo suggested. "Maleficent, Mozenrath…and none of us yet have any information on the whereabouts or actions of Xehanort, which is still worrying."

Garfield had hoped to cut right to the important information, but then realized that perhaps, this was important information. Even if it got him no closer to understanding the forces of Radiant Garden that stood against the WHAM ARMY, knowing what they knew about the WHAM ARMY could expose some weaknesses. And, moreover, if the Radiant Garden contingent had information about Maleficent the WHAM ARMY didn't, that could prove even more valuable. More significant still, Garfield hadn't even heard the name "Xehanort" before, and if it belonged to someone who was going to be a problem down the line, it would be imperative to gather that information. The scroll was still recording; there would be a lot to send back to Vexen and the Huntsman from this conversation alone.

"Tell us everything," Garfield urged, and Snatcher gave a nod of agreement.

...

Irmaplotz sidled up next to Roman Torchwick as their party made way to the first guardian's resting place. "So, Roman," Irmaplotz began.

"I better like where this is going," Roman said dryly.

"I was just wondering how it felt to finally have the teenage girl who can kick everyone's butt on YOUR side," Irmaplotz teased.

"And this was worth bothering me for?"

"Absolutely." Irmaplotz's smirk was pure mischief.

"What are you, fifteen?" Roman asked.

"Sixteen," Irmaplotz corrected.

"I was close. The point is, my nemesis is older than you. The kid was enrolled in BEACON, so she had to be at least seventeen, right? I mean, yeah, she LOOKED like a kid, but she had to be older than you. Second, she did not beat me up. I made several tactical retreats, but eventually, she got me caught between a Grimm and a hard place, which was just bad luck. Third…how did you even KNOW about that? You never leave the fucking library."

"It's more of a reading room – "

"Anyway," Roman continued, "the point is I really don't care."

"Really."

"If you're trying to get a rise out of me, it's not going to work."

"And there goes my entire plan for road trip entertainment," Irmaplotz sighed, still smirking yet.

"Like your nemesis is any less embarrassing," Roman countered.

"How do you know I even have a nemesis?" Irmaplotz asked.

"Of COURSE you have a nemesis," Roman told her. "We all have a nemesis. We draw them like flies to honey. And I'm willing to bet that yours is a complete and total wimp who keeps beating you through pure luck."

"BUT HE HAS HIS GOOD POINTS!" Irmaplotz blurted. "He's CHIVALROUS!"

Roman was taken aback. "So…I hit the nail on the head."

"He's still not that much younger than me," Irmaplotz argued.

"Also, why does it matter if he's chivalrous? Oh, don't tell me. DON'T tell me!" Roman burst into laughter. "He's the one! YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH YOUR – "

"SHUT UP!"

"Look, you can try and get my goat about a lot of things, but at least I'm not in LOVE with Red!"

"The worst part is I'm sure there are people out there who think you'd be a cute couple," Irmaplotz pointed out. "There are ALWAYS people out there who think the most dysfunctional and potentially abusive couple is the cute one."

"Um…I'm going to go ahead and say no," Roman replied, rather offput.

"Just be glad I'm not going to make you look like a fool this time," Irmaplotz concluded.

"I'm willing to bet a high sum on ME being the one who doesn't let YOU look like a fool," Roman retorted.

"This brings up some importanesting questions," Zevon brought up. "Where did you even come from? And how did you rise to power?"

"Does that really matter?" Irmaplotz asked.

"Well," Mozenrath broke in, "if you're going to fight alongside us, it would be a lot more…let's say conducive to team-building if we didn't have to suspect you were hiding anything from us."

"Well, there's really not much to tell," Irmaplotz said with a shrug. "I was born the heir to the throne of Hierogoth, and my mother started training me in the dark side of magic from day one. Pyromancy, zombie control, bad poetry – "

"I'm sorry?" Mozenrath broke in.

"You think bad poetry doesn't involve a little bit of Dark magic?" Irmaplotz challenged.

"That's not what I was calling into question," Mozenrath told her. "You…necromance."

"Actually, Mother was usually the one who did that," Irmaplotz corrected. "And it would take her a while to set up. She needed sigils, wards, implements, the works. Mozenrath necromances by intent, which I actually never thought was possible until I heard about it. And still had my doubts about until he brought everyone back from spirit form on this very world. I'm still trying to get through my Introduction to Necromancy textbook, which is the only terrible book I can't even bring myself to finish. And the quizzes for each segment involve material from the chapters that weren't even assigned! Don't EVEN get me started on the term paper Mother was expecting me to turn in on the subject. Can't I just purchase the quick summary notes off a shady black-market merchant and call it a day? It's basically the same thing!" She gritted her teeth so hard, Mozenrath could see a vein throbbing in her forehead. Sucking in a deep breath of air to cool herself down, Irmaplotz concluded, "I don't really necromance. I just know how to hypnotize the undead to get them to do what I want."

"Can you hypnotize living people?" Mozenrath asked, relieved that he still had the monopoly on necromancy. He was in no mood to share that spotlight.

"Do you think I would have let Roman keep singing if I could?"

"So she loves bad poetry," Roman sighed, shaking his head, "but she draws the line at badly sung music. Completely arbitrary, if you ask me."

"Anyway, to answer your questions," Irmaplotz went on, "I was pretty much shoved into villainy from day one. You'd think that would turn me into the kind of rebellious teenage princess who wanted to break away from her mother's expectations and be good, but, no, turns out evil is way too much fun."

"What about your dad?" Zevon asked.

"When I was younger," Irmaplotz answered. "I never really knew him all that well. That's why I wasn't too broken up when he died in that shipwreck. Mother wasn't broken up either. I learned about it because she came up to my room all 'Knock knock,' and I was like, 'Who's there?', and she was all, 'Your father,' and I was like, 'My father who?', and she comes out with 'Your father is dead!' with this huge smile on her face, and I have to inform her that that's not even a pun, and knock-knock jokes are only funny because they're puns."

"Because that was definitely the biggest reason that joke wasn't funny," Hans teased with a wink.

"Anyway, she almost seemed happy he was gone," Irmaplotz continued. "It was just business as usual around the castle, with her trying to teach me a new kind of evil magic, which, if I remember correctly, should have been how to create a storm at sea over an unsuspecting ship. Yes, the timing was right for that one." She blinked rapidly, her eyes opening wide as she walked. "I am just now realizing that my father's shipwreck was probably not an accident."

"You think?" Yzma countered, well-trained to spot a murder set up to look like an accident when she caught wind of one.

Irmaplotz shrugged. "It's really, REALLY not like I care. I just hope I end up with someone I don't want to dispose of like that at the end of the day."

"Like your nemesis," Roman reminded her.

"SHUT UP!

"Touchyyyy," Roman teased.

"Well, at least this proves you're one of us," Wuya pointed out. "You don't waste time grieving, you know how to kill with magic, and you can tell when a knock-knock joke isn't funny. You're WHAM ARMY, all right."

The sound of travel shifted gears as the feet of Roman, Irmaplotz, Mozenrath, Hans, Demyx, Yzma, Wuya, and Zevon left the dirt road and clicked onto a wide stone bridge. "At least you guys don't assign term papers," Irmaplotz said with a shrug. "That's good enough for me."

Wuya halted, putting up a hand as the group shuffled to a stop in the center of the bridge. "We're here," she announced.

"We're on the middle of a bridge," Roman pointed out.

"Thank you for pointing that out to me," Wuya said dryly without even throwing him a glance. "I didn't realize we were on the middle of a bridge until you said something. How careless of me."

"So where is this guardian spirit?" Mozenrath asked casually.

Wuya extended a finger to a spot down far below the bridge. Her seven companions cast their gazes to follow, seeing that the landscape below was dominated by a lake surrounded by cliffs; Wuya indicated a small cavern set into one of the rock faces. "There."

"That's not ominous at all!" Roman groaned.

"On one hand, scary cave? Not my idea of fun," Demyx commented. "On the other, it looks like we've finally come into MY element." He scurried to the bridge's edge, peering over to confirm that indeed, beneath the bridge was a vast expanse of water. "Oh, boy," he muttered, "this is gonna be fun."

As Demyx clambered up onto the bridge wall, Mozenrath sighed, "You're about to do something stupid, aren't you?"

Without answering verbally, Demyx launched himself over the side of the bridge, streamlining his body into a dive. Mozenrath still considered that an affirmative answer to his question.

The remaining seven hustled to the bridge wall, looking over to make sure Demyx hadn't just thrown himself to his death. They observed him plummeting into the water below, entering the surface of the lake with the mildest of splashes, then, after a pause, bobbing up to the surface to tread and yell something unintelligible up at his traveling companions.

"Good enough for me," Roman said with a nod.

"Now that I know that can be accomplicated without fathal resultations," Zevon added, "I think I want to give that way of descenting a try!"

"It kinda looks like fun," Irmaplotz agreed.

"No," Mozenrath said as Roman, Zevon, and Irmaplotz all hoisted themselves up onto the shallow wall. "NO. You are NOT – "

In complete synchrony, despite not having signaled when to go or planned it out beforehand, Irmaplotz, Roman, and Zevon leapt, twisting into diving positions. Hans, Wuya, Yzma, and Mozenrath watched them hit the lake's surface, then tread water below, beckoning the rest of the group to come down.

"I'm not doing that," Mozenrath insisted.

"Scared?" Wuya teased.

"He's not doing it because it's not dignified," Hans corrected.

"I'll speak for myself," Mozenrath growled.

Hans put up both palms in a defensive gesture; "Sorry, sorry. Overstepped."

Mozenrath gave him a cordial nod before telling Wuya, "I'm not doing it because it's not dignified."

"Well, good news for those of us who want to travel in style," Wuya said with a smirk as she stood with her back to the wall, facing Yzma, Mozenrath, and Hans; she snapped the fingers of her right hand once. An elevator of shiny chrome materialized behind her, its doors sliding open. "Going down."

The quartet piled in, and the doors shut; pleasant if flavorless music played softly as the elevator descended.

Yzma gave an audible sigh.

"You wanted to swan dive off the bridge, didn't you?" Wuya accused.

"What?" Yzma said. "Me? Do something so graceless? Never!"

Wuya clapped her hands, and the elevator doors open, revealing them to still be halfway between bridge and lake. "Go," Wuya said, giving Yzma's back a playful shove. "Live your dream."

Yzma didn't need any more convincing than that. She bolted out of the elevator, leaping out with a wild yell and turning three somersaults and five twists before slipping beneath the lake surface without a splash to be seen.

It was an admirable dive, Wuya thought. Quite stylish, and daring to boot. Perhaps she should have realized Yzma would want to show it off from higher up, when they were still on the bridge. Catching herself in reverie, she asked, "Anyone else?"

"No," Mozenrath and Hans said in unison, both sounding repulsed at the thought.

The elevator doors slid shut and did not reopen until the bottom of the craft touched the surface of the lake. At that point, Mozenrath looked over Yzma, Roman, Zevon, Irmaplotz, and Demyx, and sighed, "Your clothes are all soaked, you know. I hope you're happy."

"It's not like we're wearing ridiculous heavy capes that would drag us down," Irmaplotz said pointedly.

"THE CAPE IS A SIGN OF NOBILITY," Mozenrath growled.

"How many times do we have to drag you kicking and screaming into doing something that's actually fun?" Roman asked. "Don't make me splash you. I will splash you."

"I don't see how being soaked to the bone is anyone's idea of fun," Mozenrath replied.

Roman raised a threatening hand. Yzma caught it and held it back. "Don't," she said.

"Fine," Roman relented, "but I owe him one later."

"Catch me if you can," Mozenrath taunted. Then, to Wuya: "About getting to that cavern…"

Wuya snapped her fingers again, and a small boat, carved with an old-fashioned dragon's head at the prow but powered by a small outboard motor on the back, appeared in the lake. The swimmers piled in; Wuya, Mozenrath, and Hans slid in directly from the elevator. Wuya started up the motor while Irmaplotz wrung her hair out directly over Hans' lap.

"Thanks," Hans said sarcastically. "I really needed THAT today."

"That was an impressive dive," Wuya told Yzma as the boat purred its way toward the cavern.

"Thank you," Yzma said with a nod. "I've placed a few championships back on my homeworld. But it's really just a hobby."

"I wouldn't have minded seeing that from higher up."

"Find me a venue back at base and I'll show you what I can REALLY do," Yzma said coyly.

"I hope you're all prepared," Mozenrath reminded his companions. "Waiting for us in there is at least one of Maleficent's elite, coupled with a spiritual force composed entirely of Dark energy that will be trained to go out for our blood. Not that I don't think we can handle it, but whatever lackey they've stationed here can't catch us off guard."

"They won't," Hans spoke up immediately.

Roman tossed the Cudgel in his hand. "Already prepped to blast them into the Netherworld."

"I get the final blow, remember?" Wuya insisted. "You all focus on the spirit."

"This sounds dangerous," Demyx commented. "But don't worry. I'm sure you guys can handle it."

As he turned to try and leap off the side of the boat, Irmaplotz and Zevon seized the back of his clothing, forcing him to sit back down.

"There's no place for cowardiction here!" Zevon barked.

"What are YOU worried about?" Mozenrath asked in exasperation. "You're one of the most magically powerful people here, you fended off the Shadow Man, and we are literally surrounded by water, WHICH YOU CONTROL."

"Hey, yeah, you're right!" Demyx realized. "I feel a lot better now. Thanks for the pep talk, Moze!" He extended a thumbs-up.

Mozenrath stared at him in utter bewilderment. "That was supposed to be condescension. I was trying to be condescending. Am I losing my touch?"

"I got what you were going for," Hans offered.

The boat pulled up onto the shore of the cavern, and the eight entered the darkness, Wuya at the lead. A short tunnel opened out into a grander area within; a short strip of shoreline gave way to a pool that took up most of the cavern's inner space. It was immediately apparent that the appointed general was already waiting for them; back turned and figure obscured by a long plum-colored robe featuring a tight hood, she was far shorter and slimmer than anyone had expected. Her hand clutched a thin metal staff bearing an orange crystal at one end and a white gem at the other.

"I knew you'd be coming sooner or later," a raspy voice said. "I was actually happy to hear you approaching from across the lake. And believe me, you weren't hard to hear. If you were going for stealth, you failed."

The hood unfurled into strips, like a flower opening its petals, as the girl turned around to face her challengers. "And what's this?" Master Cyclonis taunted. "Mozenrath himself? This is a very welcome surprise."

"He's backup," Wuya snarled. "Your fight is with me."

"I would like to take this moment to remind everyone that I technically still am in charge," Mozenrath broke in.

"Oh well." Cyclonis gave a dramatic shrug. "Mozenrath, Wuya, it doesn't make a difference. Maleficent has a price put on all of your heads. No matter which one of you I bring back, she'll have a reward waiting for me. I could be looking at a promotion. Not to mention the mere satisfaction of eliminating one of our more persistent enemies."

"You want to kill us?" Wuya countered. "Go ahead and try."

"Oh," Cyclonis replied, "that would be what you'd want me to do, wouldn't it? Kill you off so Mozenrath could hope he could retrieve you back from the Underworld before Hades found a way to make it impossible. That's why I don't plan on taking any of you out of the equation unless it's Mozenrath himself. I'll just have to bring you back alive." Her smile grew wider and wickeder. "Of course, 'alive' doesn't necessarily mean in one piece."

"You're a child," Wuya spat. "What can you do to us?"  
"I wouldn't talk, considering your history with the Xiaolin monks," Cyclonis reminded her. "They couldn't be much older than me, now, could they? In fact, the only ones of you who haven't been humiliated by someone younger than eighteen are the ones who've been mocked for their own age."

"How do YOU know – " Mozenrath began.

"We've done our homework," Cyclonis told him. "We know all about where you make your base and what your lives were before you met each other. In fact, the only reason we haven't wiped you out entirely is because we wouldn't want to waste our resources on that when you're not making trouble."

"S-soooooo…if we just turn around and walk outta here, you'd leave us alone?" Demyx questioned, slipping both hands behind his back.

"No," Cyclonis said slyly. "Because the minute you touched the surface of that lake, you officially made trouble. I know you want something from me and Lanayru. The question is, of course, what. But I don't need to know that answer so long as I never let you have it."  
Demyx's hands clenched behind his back; a silvery form bubbled in his grip.

Cyclonis slammed the lower end of her staff against the ground.

Erupting upward from the pool in a great geyser came an immense creature, once composed of pure light but now made up of dark shadow. A serpentine head topped off a long body that coiled round and round; the jaws of the beast held an orb of Darkness that pulsated and rotated.

Cyclonis looked Demyx directly in the eye as his sitar finished manifesting. "I saw that," she said with a smirk.

Mozenrath whirled to face Demyx, snarling, "What did you DO – "

At the same time, Cyclonis pointed her staff forward, growling, "GET HIM!"

Simultaneously, Demyx swung his sitar around front, positioning his fingers above the strings and calling out, "DANCE, WA – "

Before Demyx could finish, the Dark spirit Lanayru surged directly toward him and wrapped a coil of herself around him.

"And while you're at it," Cyclonis ordered, "take care of a few of the others for me, will you?"

Lanayru made three more passes over the group. Roman didn't even have time to raise the Cudgel before he was wrapped up; Zevon was constricted in the midst of reaching for his potion belt. Finally, Yzma was bound, unable to take up a weapon. The thick snake's body kept all four pinned and struggling.

"Take them outside," Cyclonis commanded, "and play with them for a bit before you carry them back to base."

With a feral hiss, Lanayru sped out the door of the cavern, emerging over the lake and soaring high into the sky.

Wuya's head whipped back and forth between looking at Cyclonis and looking at Lanayru's path.

"Are you really going to let your friends go so easily?" Cyclonis asked her.

Wuya doubted any of the others had it in them to take on Lanayru, and if she did nothing, the serpent would deliver Demyx, Roman, Zevon, and Yzma into Maleficent's clutches – the last of which seemed particularly unforgivable. Gritting her teeth, she bolted down the passage and out of the cavern.

"You did that on purpose to draw out whichever one of us was most powerful and get them away from you," Mozenrath accused.

"You're smart," Cyclonis said through her smirk. "Tell me. Do you know anything about Shadow Insects?"

"No," Mozenrath replied, "but I have a feeling you're about to give us a hard lesson."

As Cyclonis spread out both arms, a host of large insects, each the size of a dog and made up of shadows, burst from the pool behind her. The swarm crashed like a tidal wave toward Mozenrath, Hans, and Irmaplotz.

Hans twisted to press his back against Mozenrath's, drawing the dao Wuya had created for him earlier from his belt. Mozenrath had also kept his dao close, and brought it into hand. Back to back, the pair of swordsmen, amateur to the title as Mozenrath was, thrust and chopped at the insects, thinning their numbers.

Irmaplotz surrounded herself in an aura of venomous green, then let it explode outward, carrying the insects that had attacked her with it. A surging mass of green in each hand, she stared Cyclonis down directly, teeth bared.

"Oh, we have a fighter," Cyclonis remarked, spinning her staff in one hand and using the other to cast off her robe, revealing an ensemble of tighter clothing more suitable for battle beneath. "I just hope you know what you're dealing with." She let the staff come to rest in both hands, tilting the back of her right hand upward just enough that Irmaplotz could see the faint marking of the Triforce glowing against it.

Irmaplotz let both surges of magic fly. Cyclonis parried each one, sending it ricocheting into the walls in a way that shook the entire cavern. She then turned the orange crystal upon Irmaplotz and shot forth a beam of pure heat, intending to burn through the princess completely. Irmaplotz surrounded her hands with a shielding magic and caught the heat energy between her palms, shoving it back.

"Oh, you're good," Cyclonis remarked.

Outside the cavern, Lanayru circled the lake several times; Wuya sped after her at top speed, catching up little by little. When Lanayru finally realized she was being gained upon, she taunted Wuya a little by tightening her grip.

A series of cracks rang out over the lake, accompanied by screams.

Zevon thought, at first, that one of the cracks was that of a bone in his body splitting. However, as it turned out, it was one of the flasks strapped to his belt that had taken the damage, drenching him. Absorbing the effect of the potion, he became completely intangible, phasing right through Lanayru's body and out of her grip.

As Wuya soared to him, Zevon met her pace with the flight power he had gained upon the absorption of the potion. "What just happened?" Wuya asked.

"Intangiporeality potion," Zevon explained. "Nothing can touch me or anything on my person until it wears off in ten minutes. Not even the ground. Not even gravity!"

"Then stay out of the way," Wuya barked, speeding on ahead.

She drew two more daos, coursing with magic in their metal, out of thin air, focusing on the last coil of Lanayru, where Yzma was bound. Landing on the back of the coil, Wuya plunged both blades into the spirit's body, dragging them to create a grievous wound. Lanayru's grip loosened, and Yzma slipped out, falling toward the water. Though Wuya knew full well Yzma would not be hurt further by hitting the lake's surface, still she cast her swords aside and swooped to catch Yzma, one arm hooking under Yzma's knees and the other cradling her back.

"Tell me you're okay," Wuya ordered, not quite able to mask the concern in her tone.

"I'm fine!" Yzma insisted. "The other two, I'm not sure about. But what happened to Zevon?"

"Right here!" Zevon fell in flight next to Wuya and his mother. "And invincistructible for about eight and a half more minutes!"

Wuya gently set Yzma down on a patch of shoreline near the lake. "STAY SAFE," she ordered before surging back upward once again.

"Did she just…?" Yzma wondered out loud, staring after Wuya in awe.

"Become your hero in the nick of time?" Zevon filled in. "If someone that beautiful caught me like that, I'd defiantly ask them for a date."

"Not happening."

"We'll see."

Wuya launched herself after Lanayru once more, knowing the serpent wouldn't kill either of her remaining two captives. She thought back to when Lanayru was a spirit of Light. The serpent had taken no orders from anyone then. Ganondorf's change of reality really had done a number on the guardian spirits if they were acting like the lapdogs of Maleficent's forces. Either that, or the new Dark spirits' goals just aligned with Maleficent's so well that they saw no harm in playing along.

Lanayru turned in midair, spitting out the sphere of Darkness she held in her mouth. Wuya barely had time to dodge as the magic hurtled toward her, but immediately following it was another, and then another. Lanayru now held still, launching Darkness at Wuya in full force to keep her going in figure eights.

Wuya, knowing she had to break the pattern if she wanted any chance at victory, slid in between spheres; just before the next one would have collided with her, she put out both hands, shooting a massive wave of magic to counter. The sphere was halted, then pushed slowly back. Lanayru let more Darkness roll forward on her breath, turning the sphere into a beam. Wuya pushed back against it with all of her magical might, a bead of sweat rolling from her forehead all the way down to her chin. She'd just locked herself into a move from which she could not retreat without risking grievous harm, and now was not the time to regret that.

A muffled "boom" shook Lanayru; the serpent's focus was broken, and that gave Wuya just enough of an edge to shove her magic against Lanayru's and overwhelm the serpent once and for all. As the searing green energy washed over the serpent, Roman and Demyx went plummeting to the lake below, the latter giving a high-pitched shriek all the way down.

Wuya met them halfway, forming a green bubble around each that kept him levitated. She guided these spheres toward the place she'd left Yzma.

"Notice that she could have just done that to save you," Zevon muttered to Yzma, "but she CAUGHT you."

"I – you – " Yzma, obviously flustered, babbled. "That means nothing!" Color flushed her cheeks.

Wuya noticed none of this as she deposited Demyx and Roman, both in sitting positions, down near Yzma. "DON'T tell me anything bad happened to either of you," she groaned.

"My arm!" Demyx whimpered. "I can't use my sitar! That snake broke my arm!" He bit his lip to try and keep tears from spilling out over his face; it utterly failed.

"Crybaby," Roman grunted. "That snake fucked up my leg too, but you don't see me bawling about it!" He hoisted himself to his feet. "In fact, I'm going to OW OW OW OKAY OW." He flopped back over onto the ground, face crimson. "Yeah. That's broken."

Wuya took a glance at Roman's pant leg, spattered with blood. The explosion that had diverted Lanayru long enough for Wuya to overwhelm her had come from the Cudgel; it was a miracle Roman hadn't blown his leg clean off that way. There were definitely lacerations and burns beneath that fabric to accompany the breakage. "Yzma, take care of them," Wuya demanded. "I have some unfinished business to take care of."

"And just WHAT are you going to do?" Yzma barked. "For that matter, what do you expect ME to do?"

Wuya was already soaring over the lake. She felt a presence at her back: Lanayru, giving chase again. "HAVEN'T YOU HAD ENOUGH?" Wuya screamed, rotating to fire another surge backward.

The already weakened Lanayru was caught in the blaze; Wuya was certain the serpent was done for. Instead, Lanayru outpaced her, making a beeline for the cavern. Wuya followed, teeth gritted hard, now thoroughly annoyed with Lanayru and ready to give the snake the fight of her life once she caught up. What she didn't notice was that Lanayru's goal was now completely to escape her attacker.

Inside the cavern, Mozenrath and Hans had stepped away from each other to battle more bugs on their own. "You're really getting the hang of this!" Hans complimented as Mozenrath sliced an insect in half.

"What can I say?" Mozenrath replied. "I'm a natural born – "

He tripped. As he regained his balance, his sword thrust forward, impaling three bugs completely by accident.

" – A natural born learner," Mozenrath finished, using a foot to slide the insects off his blade.

Irmaplotz and Cyclonis still traded blows, neither gaining an upper hand on the other. Cyclonis stepped back, her foot landing on the surface of the pool as though it were solid ground. Further and further back she went until she launched herself up into the air, levitating there as the white crystal on her staff fueled a spherical deflection shield that repelled all of Irmaplotz's blows. Using one hand, she dislodged the orange crystal, figuring she'd have better luck with a different tactic.

"Wait – hang on." Irmaplotz let up on her constant barrage, flicking her wrist to retrieve an object from magical storage space. She placed a pair of spectacles upon her face in order to get a clearer look at what Cyclonis was doing. Now she could clearly make out that Cyclonis was swapping the fire-based crystal for a blue one. Irmaplotz had little experience with Atmosian crystals, but she was aware of basic color coding.

The moment the deflection shield dropped, Irmaplotz leapt to the side to avoid a blast of ice that would have frozen her solid, instead leaving several jagged peaks of solid water jutting up from the ground. She then immediately leapt out of the path of a second blast. Now Cyclonis had her on the defensive, which couldn't remain the case. She had to play a big card.

She realized there was such a card she could play: a large-scale spell that only required the use of a body of water, and here she was near a pool. But she would need time and focus, which was impossible when you were dodging a constant stream of ice that threatened to solidify your body and inhibit your ability to cast spells. What she needed was for Cyclonis to switch targets, and that meant throwing one of her teammates under the chariot.

"Why are you still aiming for ME?" Irmaplotz yelled.

"Because YOU'RE ATTACKING ME!" Cyclonis responded.

Irmaplotz leapt out of the way of yet another ice blast and pointed back to Mozenrath. "But HE'S the one who you can stop resurrecting any of us if you get rid of him!"

"IRMAPLOTZ!" Mozenrath yelled in what came out as more shock than rage.

"You're baiting me," Cyclonis said as she took a break from firing ice. "However, the fact stands that you are correct. I just need to clip your wings first."

When the next ice blast hit, Irmaplotz made sure to dodge it as closely as she could. She then cast a spell over her own body, freezing herself with a thin layer of ice atop her skin. It looked as though Cyclonis had won.

"Now," Cyclonis said, "to cut off the serpent's head."

She fired at Mozenrath.

Mozenrath had nowhere near the reflexes Irmaplotz did, and when he saw what was coming for him, he froze figuratively, mere moments away from doing so literally.

Hans grabbed the back of Mozenrath's cape and jerked him away from the impact point; icy crystals jutted up from the ground as Mozenrath stumbled to safety.

"Overstepping?" Hans asked as he slashed through two more insects – the swarm had become precious few.

"I'll allow it," Mozenrath said breathlessly.

Irmaplotz melted the layer of ice that covered her skin; Cyclonis didn't notice, as her focus was on Mozenrath. Closing her eyes, Irmaplotz focused on the pool, willing the water to evaporate and turn into clouds, willing those clouds to charge up with electricity and crackle with the cold. Cyclonis noticed the gray clouds once they were fully formed over her head; she paused her assault on Mozenrath to observe them. Thunder boomed.

"A storm," Cyclonis muttered. "You're trying to hurt me with a storm. And you don't even know just how futile that is."

Irmaplotz set her storm-at-sea spell, now a storm-at-pool spell, into full motion; lightning crackled toward Cyclonis as icy hail pellets rained down. Cyclonis soared around every single lightning bolt, whacking the hail out of the way with her staff. Irmaplotz was beginning to think she hadn't made the best choice.

That was when Lanayru came bolting into the cavern at full speed, fleeing for her life. She knocked Mozenrath, Hans, and Irmaplotz over, crushing the last few Shadow Insects against the wall. As she charged for the pool, Cyclonis knew she had to get out of the way to avoid a collision.

As Cyclonis attempted to skirt Lanayru, she was struck by lightning twice and hammered by a swath of hailstones. Lanayru disappeared below the surface of the pool; Cyclonis skidded onto the shore.

"It's…not…over yet," Cyclonis grunted, planting her staff into the ground and using it to haul herself up.

A final bolt of lightning connected directly with her back, behind her beating heart. A shuddering gasp and Cyclonis lay still on the ground.

By now, Wuya had rushed into the cavern, expecting a more violent scene. With a simple wrist flick, Irmaplotz dismissed the clouds and their precipitation, allowing Wuya to approach and stand over the shocked Cyclonis.

She was still alive, Wuya noticed, even though her breathing was far more ragged. Cyclonis didn't protest as Wuya reached down, clasped the girl's right hand, and jerked her arm upward.

"I'll take that Triforce of Power now," Wuya remarked casually, beginning the transfer spell that flowed the Triforce from Cyclonis' aura to Wuya's. She was well aware that Triforce was the only reason the girl had even survived taking as much electricity as she had.

The marking disappeared from the back of Cyclonis' hand. When Wuya let go of it, she observed the back of her own right hand, where the Triforce faintly glowed. "And now that I have what I want," she stated, "you're better off to me dead. Of course, there's a chance that Maleficent might bring you back, but after learning how you failed here, will she really want to?"

Cyclonis quickly fumbled for her pocket, bringing forth another crystal.

Wuya called a host of weapons into the air: swords, daggers, axes, pikes, all aimed at Cyclonis' fallen body.

Cyclonis gripped the warp crystal tightly.

Just as the weapons made their plunge, Cyclonis disappeared, having used the warp crystal to get to safety. Instead, the metal blades bit the ground.

"DRAT!" Wuya hissed. She sucked in a deep breath through her teeth, then let it out with a sigh. "Well, at least we're a fourth of the way there." She turned to show off her new Triforce marking to Mozenrath, Hans, and Irmaplotz.

"And the others?" Mozenrath asked. "Tell me she didn't get away with the others."

"They're fine," Wuya answered. "Or they should be, at least."

It turned out they were fine, aside from Demyx's arm and Roman's leg. Wuya brought Mozenrath, Hans, and Irmaplotz to them; Zevon had regained tangibility and was sitting cross-legged on the ground. Yzma had been standing, watching the cavern entrance with careful eyes the whole while.

"You're back!" Yzma proclaimed when Wuya and company arrived. "Did you get what we came for?"

Wuya simply, wordlessly displayed the marking on the back of her hand.

"PERFECT!" Yzma crowed.

"Where's the giant snake?" Demyx asked worriedly. "Is it going to come back to try and finish us off?"

"Lanayru isn't our problem anymore," Wuya explained. "I scared her off, and she's not coming out for a while. We can just leave her be and move on to the next general."

"Move on!" Roman repeated. "Great idea! If only all of us could actually walk."

"And without my arm, I'm not going to be any help in a fight," Demyx added. "Not that I'm any help in a fight on a good day. You guys might as well just leave me out of the dangerous parts."

"Statistically speaking, you're too valuable to leave behind," Mozenrath reminded him. "That is, mind you, only STATISTICALLY speaking."

"I think you pick on me because you secretly like me."

"Well, that couldn't be more wrong," Mozenrath huffed.

"We can't just…not do anything about that arm," Yzma insisted.

"I know, I know," Mozenrath sighed. "We'll fix him."

"And me," Roman added. "You'll fix me."

"And you," Mozenrath agreed. "I just…need to figure out how to do that."

"You can't HEAL US?" Demyx cried.

"I'm not a HEALER!" Mozenrath growled. "Healing is a Light discipline! Does my magic look like Light to you AT ALL?"

"But you bring people back from the dead!" Demyx pointed out. "That's healing! You're healing them from literally death!"

"That's different," Mozenrath told him. "That's not fixing what's broken. That's recreating from a blank canvas. It's – " He stopped, coming into a realization. "It's…actually not a bad idea."

"WHAT'S not a bad idea?" Demyx asked worriedly.

"You actually brought up a solid point," Mozenrath told him. "I actually have to give you some credit."

"Thanks…?"

"And now," Mozenrath continued, "I have to let you both die."

"WHAT?" Demyx and Roman yelled.

In a flash, they were reduced to floating blue spirits once more. Then, after a few moments required to warm up, Mozenrath brought them both back into physical form again, this time with no broken bones whatsoever.

"You're welcome," Mozenrath said. He then turned to Wuya and Irmaplotz, indicating them both with a finger; "Neither of you better get hurt. Recreating you would be a lot more complicated."

"Right on, Righty," Roman stated.

"So what's our next objectivication?" Zevon asked.

"After Lanayru?" Wuya clarified. "We make way to Eldin."


	58. Black Eagle Circling the Sky

58\. Black Eagle Circling the Sky

It wasn't long into the journey to Eldin Province that Roman Torchwick noticed Irmaplotz's new facial accessory.

"Wow, Four-Eyes," he remarked, "you look like a fucking nerd."

Irmaplotz flinched. This was exactly why she didn't like to wear her spectacles in everyday business. In all the excitement, she had completely forgotten to remove them post-battle. "Well, you look like you went out of style fifteen thousand and nineteen years ahead of schedule," she snapped.

"What does that even mean, Four-Eyes?" Roman laughed.

Irmaplotz gritted her teeth. "YZMA! Roman is calling me names!"

"Why are you telling ME?" Yzma replied. "What am I supposed to do about it? Just because I'm Zevon's mother doesn't make me yours!"

"You heard Yz-Mom, Four-Eyes," Roman stated. "I do what I want."

"Grrrr…" Irmaplotz tapped her glasses, letting them vanish; the horizon became just a little blurrier. "There. You can't call me Four-Eyes if I only have two."

"That's a good idea," Mozenrath told her. "Take off the glasses that correct your legitimate visual impairment. That way, whenever we get attacked next, you won't be able to see what our enemy is doing clearly, you'll become grievously injured, you'll allow the REST of us to be grievously injured, and you make things that much more of a hassle for me when I have to deal out resurrections."

"Fine," Irmaplotz growled, snapping her fingers; the spectacles reappeared. "I'll put them back on. But you're only doing this so Roman can keep calling me names."

"He calls everyone names," Mozenrath sighed.

"You think I'm happy about being Yz-Mom?" Yzma added.

"Well, if the stiletto fits…" Wuya teasted.

"My relationship with Zevon is barely parental!" Yzma groaned.

"Exacticly!" Zevon agreed. "Also, now that we've defeatalized one of Maleficent's generals and obtainmented part of the Triforce of Power, I declare a celebration to be had with cake and ice cream!"

"You're not eating that much sugar, mister," Yzma snapped.

Zevon shrugged. "So I have a question for Mozenrath."

"I can't guarantee I'll have an answer," Mozenrath replied, "but try me anyway."

"How did you do it?" Zevon asked. "How did you get your life together so young? As much as I hate to admittance it, I barely knew what I was doing until I joined you."

"Well, there are several factors that go into success," Mozenrath said casually. "The most important, of course, is sacrifice."

"I see," Zevon responded. "Tell me more."

"You get out of this world what you put into it," Mozenrath stated. "Not what you deserve. So you have to be ready to work for what you want. You have to be ready to work your hands until your fingers bleed. To keep moving even when every last cell in your body is begging you to shut down. To experience nights where hunger threatens to tear you apart from the inside out." His tone was growing ever colder. "To be rejected. To be struck. To be burned alive. To risk your life again and again in the hopes of attaining something that can give you the upper hand. To suffer an eternal pain in exchange for ultimate power. THAT is how you achieve success."

A silence spread over the group. Then, once it had run its course, Zevon said meekly, "And if I don't want to do that…?"

"Well, you won't really have to worry about that, since you're with us," Mozenrath said rather reassuringly. "I would focus more on the second factor of success: harnessing forces of great power and putting them to work for you. Your most crucial weapon is, of course, your own mind, but even that's useless if you don't have the power to back it up. Thirdacs, wind jackals, genies, the Philosopher's Stone – any of it will do if it's in capable hands. Whatever you want to accomplish, there's magic out there that will let you do it."

"So you're saying I should find some kind of powerful magic for myself," Zevon mused.

"Again, not something you have to worry about given present company," Mozenrath reassured him. "But if you were on your own, it would be worth consideration."

"I may take you up on this all the same," Zevon stated. "I always have been missing a signage-ature magical flair."

"And those potions don't count," Mozenrath replied.

"Since you bring it up," Zevon told him, "they work well enough, but I could use something with more of a punch!"

"I wasn't suggesting them," Mozenrath clarified. "I was saying outright that those potions don't count."

"Then we're in agreeancement!" Zevon laughed. "I am frustrationed by their limiterations anyway. I only have three remaindering."

"Then make them count," Mozenrath commanded.

"Oh, I will," Zevon promised. "Now, what to take on as my own personal powerhome? I always have liked jewels and crystals."

"I might actually be inclined to help you if I didn't have better things to focus on," Mozenrath told him. "There are plenty of untapped resources out there that would be better off among our forces than anywhere else. But, as it is, we won't need them. We have our spell, and we're coming close to completing it."

"Are you sure it's wise to bet all our eggs on the same horse?" Zevon asked.

"Idioms too, huh?" Wuya sighed.

"WHAT did you just call me?" Zevon snapped.

"People who worry about diversifying their plans are the people who expect to FAIL at their plans," Mozenrath clarified. "I don't expect to fail at this plan."

"That's a smart way to look at it!" Zevon agreed.

A confident way to look at it, Irmaplotz thought, but not necessarily a smart one. She knew far better than to say that out loud.

"I'm glad to know your point of view," Zevon went on. "It was enlightenating."

"So, um, back to that whole 'sacrifice' speech you made," Hans broke in. "Did you actually live your life like that?"

"I don't see why you need to know," Mozenrath replied curtly.

"It just seems like the kind of thing a person might need to talk about," Hans told him.

"Well, I don't," Mozenrath said casually.

"I'm ready to listen if you do," Hans added.

"I know better than to cough up my whole story to people," Mozenrath responded, just as casually.

Yzma thought back to the tents pitched in the fields of Fantastica, back when Mozenrath had believed a little differently.

"And, most importantly," Mozenrath added, "I've grown beyond my past."

"I should have figured," Hans said with a soft smile.

...

Aeleus was a man of few words. However, he knew Radiant Garden's castle and its grounds inside and out. The latter was why he had been selected to give "Nikolai and Bridgit Pike" a tour of what was to become their new domicile. The former made it incredibly difficult for Snatcher and Garfield to obtain the information they wanted from him along the way.

His idea of giving a tour was minimalistic enough. He opened the doors to the lower level of the library, leading his two charges inside and stating "This is the library." He ascended the stairway to the second level without a word as they followed.

"So, uh…what goes on here?" Garfield asked.

"Reading," Aeleus answered.

"How many books does library have?" Snatcher inquired, wondering if it was possible to juice more than the bare minimum of information out of his tour guide.

"Too many to count" was Aeleus' only answer. The trio was silent until they exited the library's upper level doors.

Trying to get answers out of him about the information that actually mattered was even more frustrating.

"How many people currently call castle home?" Snatcher asked.

"Many," Aeleus replied.

"Who's in charge of this outfit?" Garfield asked.

Aeleus had to give this some thought before simply saying "It depends upon whom you ask" and not elaborating.

He didn't even react when he opened the door to the next room to find a fire springing up right out of the center of the floor. Snatcher panicked, backing away in a hurry, but Aeleus held up a hand before him, as though that was supposed to calm him from the thought of being burned alive; "It is all right."

Garfield was more entranced by the flames than any mortal should be under the circumstances, and gave the situation a fair assessment before making a move. The fire, it seemed, was contained. It was only about the size of a bonfire, and not spreading. Actually, describing it as a bonfire looked perfectly accurate, judging by the two people sitting near the fire and holding out skewers with marshmallows over it.

"Lea," Aeleus scolded. "Nick. Do not do that."

"Hey, chill," Lea replied, plucking a marshmallow off the end of his skewer and placing it in his mouth. Talking around the sweet fluff, he explained, "It's contained. Magic, remember?"

"I actually really miss being able to do this myself," Nick sighed.

"You will burn the carpet," Aeleus reprimanded.

"We took precautions," Lea explained. "Look."

There was, in fact, a glittering layer of energy beneath the fire's base, shielding the carpet from the flames.

"Still," Aeleus said, "there are perfectly good fireplaces to use."

"This is warmer," Lea argued as Nick chowed down on the marshmallow he had been roasting.

Aeleus shook his head. "Come. We will move on."

"Who are they?" Nick asked, indicating Snatcher and Garfield.

"Name's Bridgit," Garfield said as he approached the fire. "And this looks like my idea of a good time."

"Well, have a seat, Bridgit." Lea patted the floor next to him.

Garfield settled carefully on the floor, as one does when wearing a skirt, and Lea handed him a skewer and the bag of marshmallows. Garfield immediately plunged his marshmallow into the flames, catching it on fire before blowing it out and starting to peel the blackened outer shell away. "So what are you planning to do with this?" he asked.

"With the fire?" Nick clarified. "Basically marshmallows."

"With this guy giving you a hard time?" Garfield pointed back at Aeleus. "I say we torch some of his stuff. That'll stop him from getting on your case." He threw a look over his shoulder at Aeleus. "You hear that, big man?"

Aeleus glowered at Garfield.

"Um…we're not gonna do that," Lea said, mildly flabbergasted.

"Fine," Garfield said casually as he burned up the next layer of marshmallow on his skewer. "Waste a good fire."

Aeleus' glare turned to Snatcher.

"My daughter," Snatcher said sheepishly, "she is spirited young lady, if lacking in manners. Once burned my best shoes over mild disagreement. Is harmless, though. I assure."

"C'mon, Dad," Garfield urged. "We're here to make friends."

Snatcher took a step toward the fire, but Aeleus grunted; "Our tour is not complete."

"Daughter has point," Snatcher told him. "We are here to get to know new home. New home is not merely building. New home is people INSIDE building. I wish to know new friends."

He took his own seat on the floor, thinking the arrangement rather undignified, as Garfield passed him a marshmallow. "And who might you be?" he asked.

"We still don't have a good answer to that question from you," Nick pointed out.

"I see," Snatcher said with a nod. "Then we must get acquainted, no? Bridgit and I are travelers from ravaged homeworld."

He spun his story yet again as Lea and Nick listened in awe. After condolences were offered, the tables were turned, and Lea and Nick introduced themselves, telling their own stories. All the while, Snatcher and Garfield listened and learned.

...

Using the money she had earned from Leon, Sadira had invited three of the other current inhabitants of Radiant Garden out for a girls' afternoon. She had thought it a perfect day, what with the sun shining overhead as it was in a topaz-blue sky.

Street vendors abounded with wares to market in the square. Sadira had become particularly entranced by a cart of jewelry. "What do you think?" she asked, holding up a necklace with a red gem and one with a green gem. "The red or the green?"

Moana, Nora, and Yuffie exchanged confused looks.

"Okay, you pick, then," Sadira offered. "Which ones do you want? Whichever one less of you pick, I'll get."

"You really don't need to do that," Moana informed her.

"I said I'd treat you to whatever you wanted so long as we stayed on budget!" Sadira reminded her. "This doesn't even scratch budget!"

Her three cohorts remained silent.

"Okay, what's going on?" Sadira sighed.

"It's just…it's…well…" Moana scrounged for the words.

"We're not really into this fashion stuff," Nora admitted.

"We're just here because it's fun to hang out," Yuffie added. "I really couldn't care less about red or green."

"I think they're both good?" Moana offered.

Sadira rolled her eyes. "Seriously? This is kind of what girls' days out are all ABOUT."

"I prefer the kind of girls' day out where we beat up monsters," Nora said with a grin as she slammed a fist into the opposite palm.

"What about playing some harmless pranks?" Yuffie suggested.

"Or going for a walk outside the city?" Moana added.

Sadira sighed. "Sorry I dragged you all out here. I just thought a shopping trip would be, y'know, fun."

"It is fun!" Moana said hastily. "Just…not the shopping part of it."

Nora and Yuffie nodded in agreement.

"All right," Sadira relented. "Just let me pick one necklace and we can go do something else."

She turned back to address the vendor, but found herself hung up on the color choice once more.

"You know, they do have different effects in battle," the vendor reminded her. "The red one enhances your fire magic, and the green one increases the efficacy of Cure spells."

"Got anything that can give me extra power with sand?" Sadira asked.

"Sand?" the vendor repeated. "Now, that's a new one…"

The moment was interrupted by a loud string of curses being flung from down the street. People hurriedly moved out of the way of a barreling chase.

"I'd know that foul mouth anywhere," Yuffie proclaimed.

Just as she'd expected, the source of the racket was Cid Highwind, though he was in hot pursuit of a strange and speedy little creature. Moana, Nora, Yuffie, and Sadira watched as the blue, six-limbed mammal skittered across the road and up the wall of a nearby shop, coming to rest on the corner of a roof. Cid charged after him, stopping at the wall. "YOU PUT THAT BACK WHERE YOU FOUND IT, YOU LITTLE SHIT!" Cid screamed, shaking his fist at his quarry.

The blue creature just blew a loud raspberry at Cid, clutching a chunk of Gummi close to his chest. "Stupidhead!" he retorted.

"WHY YOU – "

By this time, Sadira had put both necklaces back on the shelf, and she, Nora, Moana, and Yuffie had rushed to the scene. "What's going on?" Yuffie asked.

"This little SHIT has been stealin' Gummi from my garage for half a year now!" Cid growled. "Every time I think I've gotten rid of it, it comes right on back and helps itself!"

"I need it!" the blue creature insisted haughtily.

"Need it?" Moana repeated. "What do you need it for?"

"It needs it because it's a fuckin' thief!" Cid insisted.

"Maybe let's try talking this out first?" Moana suggested.

"Hey!" Nora yelled up at the blue creature. "Come down from there so we can talk to you!"

"Nuh-uh!" The blue creature shook his head, clutching the Gummi closer. "Not with him!"

"Then we'll talk to you from here," Sadira resolved.

"If there was anythin' to talk about," Cid grumbled, "the little shit woulda paid for that Gummi like everyone else!"

"Maybe he can't afford it!" Sadira said defensively. "Some people need to steal in order to live, you know!" Hands on hips, she fixed Cid with a fierce glare.

"You mighta convinced me if it was food," Cid told her, "but who the fuck needs Gummi to live? Besides, look at it! It's just an animal!"

"Not animal!" the blue creature insisted. "Intelligent life form!"

"Why do you need the Gummi?" Yuffie yelled.

"Build ship!" the blue creature explained. "Vroom, vroom!"

"See?" Cid groaned. "That ain't necessary to live one bit!"

"YES! IT! IS!" the blue creature insisted.

"I feel like there's some misunderstanding going on here," Moana said calmly. "If we can all just keep talking – "

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Cid groaned. "Talk all you want. I'm findin' a way to get up on that roof!"

"You want?" the blue creature taunted, hoisting up the Gummi. "You GET!"

He chucked the Gummi as hard as he could at Cid's head. Cid only just barely caught it before it would have bludgeoned his head with some force. "DON'T YOU EVEN THINK OF PUTTIN' ONE OF THOSE PAWS IN MY GARAGE!" he yelled as he stormed away.

The blue creature hung his head, dejected.

"He's gone now," Yuffie stated. "You can come down if you want. We're not gonna hurt you."

"We seriously just wanna know what's going on," Nora added.

The blue creature sized the four young women up visually, trying to decide if they looked trustworthy enough for him to share his story. Eventually he resolved it was better to try and find someone sympathetic to his plight than to keep sticking it out alone, and he crawled gingerly down from the roof.

"All right!" Sadira said, pleased. "Now we can figure out what's going on!"

Moana knelt down to better get on the blue creature's level. "What's your name?" she asked.

"My name Stitch," the blue creature said proudly as soon as he was settled on the street, standing on two legs and holding the other four limbs up as arms.

"Stitch?" Moana repeated. She held out a hand. "It's nice to meet you. I am Moana of Motonui."

Stitch grasped her fingers in a claw, and they gingerly shook hands.

"I'm Sadira," Sadira added. "Nice to meet you!"

"And I'm the great ninja Yuffie!" Yuffie added.

"Nora!" Nora cried happily.

Stitch nodded. "Nice…to meet you."

Moana withdrew her hand gently. "So you're trying to build a ship?" she asked.

"Uh-huh!" Stitch nodded. "Stitch need ship to get home!"

"Home?" Moana repeated. "Where is your home?"

"Home on other world," Stitch explained. "Stitch lost. Stitch not know how far away world is from home."

"How'd THAT happen?" Nora asked.

"Heartless!" Stitch began to tell the tale, with a special emphasis on every word. "Heartless attack home. Galactic Council call Stitch to fight! Stitch fight Heartless in space, far from home." He then gave a visual demonstration, balling up all four fists and maneuvering them to appear as though they were in an aerial battle, complete with sound effects. "But then!" He rammed three fists into his fourth – his upper right – and sent the upper right sailing up over his shoulder with a "Waaaaaaaaaa" sound.

"They hit your ship," Yuffie realized, "and you got thrown off course!"

"Stitch crash here," Stitch went on. "Ship not working. Radio broken."

"That must have been around the time of the big battle against Organization XIII and the Heartless," Yuffie realized. "I remember seeing you there for that."

"Yes, yes!" Stitch insisted. "Stitch fight Heartless! Protect new world!" He gave a dejected groan. "But Stitch want to go home. So Stitch build new ship, but stupidhead get in way!"

Moana stood back up to full height. "Maybe we can help," she offered, giving looks to Nora, Yuffie, and Sadira. "We all came from different worlds, and we visit new worlds all the time. Maybe we can help you find your way home."

"REALLY?" Stitch's face lit up with glee.

"Sure we can!" Nora agreed.

"We should go to the castle right now!" Yuffie suggested. "All of us, together! We can talk to Merlin and see if we can use the hourglass to figure out where Stitch's homeworld is!"

"That sounds like a plan to me!" Sadira said emphatically.

"Now THIS is the kind of girls' day I can get into!" Nora commented.

"Heyyyy!" Stitch broke in. "Stitch not girl!"

"Right," Nora corrected. "Pals' day, then."

"Race you there!" Yuffie turned and rushed in the direction of the castle.

"Oh, you are SO on!" Nora charged after her.

"Hey, no fair!" Sadira yelled as she chased them both. "You didn't even warn me!"

Moana gave Stitch a look before the pair broke into a run to catch up.

...

Rémington was running for his life.

The red-orange sky of Fab'hugruta cast a hellish glow over the black and cracked stone that Rémington's feet hit, one after the other so rapidly, they blurred from view when Rémington glanced downward. Behind him came the chatter of a stampede of Shushus: not the tamed creatures that lay imprisoned in his weapons, but the demons in their natural form, as beings with long limbs and twisted claws.

The ground shook as an immense Shushu, his gargantuan orange body bulging with muscles and his head crowned by curving horns, landed on the path in front of Rémington, blocking his way. Rémington recognized him immediately: Rushu, the Shushu king – at least in the form he chose to use to intimidate humans.

For a moment, Rémington skidded to a halt, not sure if it was worse to continue forward and into Rushu's clutches or fall behind to be mauled by the Shushu army that pursued him. There were no other options; the ground dropped off like a cliff to either side, and Rémington couldn't see the bottom of what would be a very long fall.

Rushu made the choice for Rémington. Grinning, the demon king held up a hand, pinching his captive by two fingers. He had a fluffy black Bow Meow by the tail, swinging him back and forth.

"GRANY!" Rémington yelled in a panic, not even bothering to wonder why his brother was once more in feline shape. He darted forward –

And, as the lead Shushu of the army seized the hem of his cape, was jolted backward, falling on his back and landing face-up as the Shushus swarmed over him.

They didn't seem to want to do him in just yet. Instead, they clawed at him, leaving scratches that bled. The pain was nothing. Rémington had endured worse, though in contexts that were usually more pleasant in general. As it turned out, they were merely holding him down to create an audience.

Rushu loomed over Rémington, holding Grany high above his head. Tilting his chin up, he opened his mouth, beginning to lower Grany.

Rémington twisted and squirmed, unable to break the grip of the Shushus that held him down. "NO! NOOOOOOOOOO!"

Rushu's lips closed around Grany. He withdrew his hand, swallowing with a smile plastered across his face.

Rémington barely cared anymore about the Shushus holding him down, and thought that they might as well get his execution over with.

...

Heart pounding. Eyelids snapping open. Rémington was awake.

So that was why Grany had been feline once more. It had all been a dream. Rémington found himself nowhere near Fab'hugruta, but instead stretched out across the couch in the living room of the apartment Mim and Aghoul called home. A thin blanket had been draped over him as he took his afternoon nap.

It wasn't real, he told himself. None of it was real. Grany was in no danger. Rémington himself was in no danger.

He reached up to his collarbone, feeling for a relatively recent bite mark Mim had left there. He pressed his fingers into it, letting the hurt radiate through his shoulder from that point. That calmed him, and brought to mind some very pleasant memories.

Now came the question of whether or not to attempt sleep again. It became clear that Rémington was far too shaken to return to slumber. Instead, he slid off the couch.

Mim and Aghoul had vacated the apartment; Mim had allowed him to stay on the couch. He now wanted to find Mim and see if she had time to spare to create any more scintillating memories that would wash out the vision of that hellscape. His creative mind was already flooding with taunts he could use to flirt, ways he could start up a small war that would be resolved in the bedroom (or anywhere else more exotic, with relative privacy).

He refused to be bested by a nightmare.

...

Tucked away on one of Radiant Garden's side streets, the Resplendence Café enjoyed moderate business: enough to keep it up and running, but never overpacked with patrons. Its walls were painted pastel pink and blue, its waitstaff outfitted in the same palette. In addition to its indoor seating, it featured a courtyard with a scattering of outdoor tables, all pristine white with fluted legs.

Kairi had suggested she and Jaune sit outside for their first date. Each had a steaming cup of tea before them. Jaune had to admit sitting outdoors was a splendid idea, given the weather (though really, he thought, which of Kairi's ideas weren't splendid?). He couldn't imagine things being any better.

Panic set in when he realized the pressure was on to come up with something to talk about. It had been easy when he and Kairi were merely friends, but now, he felt a sudden weight to what he said, as though uttering the wrong sentence would collapse the foundations of all they had built. Kairi didn't seem concerned; she was in the midst of a sip of tea. Jaune cycled through his memories of all they had been through together: fighting Grimm in Remnant, splitting up to face different foes on the Balmera, suspecting friends of foul play in Atmos. It all added up to a disheartening pattern.

"Man, destiny has not been nice to us," he blurted.

Kairi set the cup down. "I know what you mean," she said somberly. "It seems like everywhere we go, there's a new enemy waiting to destroy what we care about. But there's been a lot of good, too. We've made new friends and learned about new worlds.

"Focus on the good," Jaune said with a nod. "I like that. Let's…not talk about any depressing stuff on this date, okay?"

"Okay!" Kairi seemed more than pleased with that suggestion.

"So," Jaune went on, "uh…I…um…" Questions formed in his head that he could ask her, but none of them seemed good enough. Every topic he wanted to broach suddenly felt silly.

Kairi could sense his trepidation. "Can I ask a question?"

"Yeah, sure!" Jaune answered, flushing furiously. "Go ahead!"

"What kind of music do you like?"

It was a question Jaune himself had considered putting on the table, but it had seemed so base when he thought of it. When Kairi said it, it sounded natural. He really had to stop thinking of this as such a high-stakes event, he realized. This was the same Kairi he'd known through all their adventures, and she wasn't about to call off the date over the wrong conversation topic. "I like a little bit of everything," Jaune answered. "I'm really not picky. But I do kinda prefer the stuff on the radio to anything else. I know it's all popular and generic and probably bad music, but…I dunno, anything with a good beat makes me happy."

"Well, whatever's popular on Remnant would be new to me," Kairi replied, "so I don't think I'd think it was generic or bad."

"Well…okay." Jaune withdrew his scroll and a pair of earphones connected by a wispy cord from his pocket. Connecting the latter to the former, he announced, "I actually have my favorite song here on my scroll. Nora thinks it's kinda…cringey. It doesn't have any bad language or anything. It's just popular, and it sounds like a lot of other things. Ren was always too polite to say anything bad, but I know he doesn't like it either."

They both acknowledged, mentally, that Pyrrha would have had her own take, which, Jaune alone knew, was an expression of liking for the song that he had at first thought false but later realized, to his surprise, was genuine. But the topic of Pyrrha fell under the "depressing" label, so they both decided not to touch it at that moment in time.

"So," Jaune concluded, "wanna listen?"

"Of course I do!" Kairi said enthusiastically.

Jaune passed her the scroll. She had only a basic familiarity with handheld musical devices, but it was easy enough to figure out to just press the giant "play" triangle in the center of the screen. The song had a strong beat to it, and the vocals were put through heavy synthetics. Partway through the first verse, Kairi found herself moving ever so slightly, bobbing her head to the tempo. "I like it!" she said after the first chorus. "It's very upbeat."

She finished out the song before handing the scroll back to Jaune.

"So what about you?" Jaune asked. "Music-wise, I mean."

"Well, I like songs that are happy. Songs you can dance to," Kairi answered. "But I also like songs that are epic and powerful, like with an orchestra and a choir. I'd show you my favorite song, but all my CDs are back on the Islands, and we don't really have phones like yours that can play music."

"That's fine," Jaune replied. "I would love to listen to your favorites someday, but it's no big deal right now. Looks like neither of us is into the slow sad-song thing."

"No, not really," Kairi agreed. "I'd rather listen to something that makes me smile or feel powerful."

"So, what's the music like in Radiant Garden, anyway? I've been here for how long and I haven't even heard one popular hit from this place."

"I don't listen to it as much as music from the Islands, but there are plenty of good songs…"

While they chatted, their cups of tea were emptied, and they ordered seconds.

...

As Luna, Ienzo, and Merlin sat around a table in the library's upper level, Luna said with a smile, "I am glad all of our new guests are getting accustomed."

"And even more glad Aeleus was able to handle the tour so we can get some work done," Ienzo added.

"I wouldn't count on that," Merlin huffed. "You know, I've been thinking about converting parts of this castle into smaller libraries and studies for private use."

"And why is that?" Luna asked.

"Because this one's too loud!" Merlin insisted. "Everyone seems to pass through here at least once daily, using it for any purpose except what libraries are actually meant to be used for! Mark my words, you can't expect a moment's peace here before someone comes along and – "

The lower level door slammed open. "MERLIN!" four female voices chorused.

"See?" Merlin sniffed. "As I predicted."

Sadira was the first to skid into the proximity of the table. "Have you seen – " she began before realizing she was looking at exactly who she wanted to talk to. "MERLIN!"

"Yes, yes, it's me," Merlin said sulkily. "What do you want?"

By that time, Nora, Moana, Yuffie, and Stitch had caught up. "We need to ask the hourglass something," Yuffie explained. "We need to figure out where this little guy's home is."

"Lost," Stitch emphasized.

With a sigh, Merlin rose from his chair. "Very well. I suppose I can't abandon someone in an hour of need."

"You know, if it helps," Yuffie pointed out, "Stitch has been annoying Cid for a really long time now, and helping him is probably the last thing Cid wants to do."

This seemed to improve Merlin's mood. "Well, then," he said, suddenly enthusiastic, "what are we waiting for?"

Within moments, Merlin, Sadira, Yuffie, Nora, Moana, and Stitch were positioned near the hourglass. "Soooooo…just ask question?" Stitch confirmed.

"Yes," Merlin cautioned, "but choose your words carefully."

"Hmmm." Stitch thought it over, then gave a nod. "Okay. Stitch know question."

Merlin raised both hands, then flicked them at the hourglass, starting the lightning necessary to power its sands. The contents of the glass swirled and whirled; Stitch watched them, mesmerized, before remembering his role in the scene. "Where Stitch family?" he asked.

The sands then formed an image: a spaceship, inset with Gummi at integral points to allow it to pass between the worlds, flying through interspace.

"It seems your family has figured out how to traverse the worlds," Merlin observed.

The ship grew smaller and its surroundings more vast, suddenly revealing a crucial fact. A sphere marked with the castle of Radiant Garden was quite near the ship, but if the ship continued on its current trajectory, it would miss Radiant Garden entirely.

"They're close!" Moana realized. "We have to get them to stop here!"

"Merlin!" Nora cried. "Cast a spell or something so we can talk to them!"

"There's a far simpler way than that," Merlin informed. "One of the towers is set up to send radio transmissions to incoming Gummi ships."

"WHICH ONE?" all four young women yelled.

"The northeast!" Merlin said hastily. "Yuffie, you'll know it as the crooked one. Now hurry, hurry! Before that ship passes us completely by!"

Nora, Moana, Sadira, and Yuffie bolted, Stitch crawling eagerly behind.

"I do hope they are in time," Merlin said to himself, realizing he very much did care about this mission over his work.

...

Though the ship had been built only for space travel within the boundaries of one world, its passengers had managed to fix it up suitably enough to hold together under the pressures of interspace. When Heartless got involved, they knew they had to do so. The Grand Councilwoman of the Galactic Alliance had revealed to them exactly how much space there was outside what they knew, and had stated with a heavy heart that if Stitch had been knocked into that abyss, there was an eternity of places he could be, and it was likely that if he hadn't come home by now, he would never.

Lilo Pelekai had refused to accept that answer. And when she had suggested launching a search party to look for Stitch, she had two enthusiastic cohorts in this idea and one legal guardian who said it was all right to explore interspace so long as everyone was home at a reasonable time for dinner.

Day after day for months, ever since Stitch had been lost in the great battle against the Heartless invaders, the ship had set out from its homeworld, crossing vast expanses of interspace. Its passengers had landed on many worlds, keeping their visits brief, simply trying to figure out if Stitch was present or not. So far, their quest had turned up no results, and the latest venture was nearing its end.

"Please?" Lilo begged. "One more hour?"

"Am sorry, little girl," Jumba Jookiba said from the driver's seat. "Nani gave strict dinner deadline."

"And we wouldn't wanna make her worry!" Wendy Pleakley added from the seat next to him.

"But I'M worried!" Lilo reminded them. "Stitch is lost out there, and he needs us! And I really, really, really feel like ths time, we're gonna find him!"

"Would not get hopes up so high," Jumba sighed. "Remember, we are searching infinite space. Is no guarantee Stitch is actually not on any of worlds we crossed off list."

"Well, I'm not giving up!" Lilo asserted, stamping her foot.

Pleakley gave Jumba a solemn look. "One more hour?" he asked. "I think we all need it."

"All right," Jumba relented. "One more hour. And we will search one more new world. Pleakley, call Nani and let her know we will be late."

"Try hailing Stitch's ship again!" Lilo suggested. "Maybe we're close enough to his radio this time!"

Before Jumba could touch any of the dashboard controls, a light illuminated and a soft beep echoed throughout the cabin. "Hm," Jumba remarked, "seems someone else is hailing us."

"Why do I have a bad feeling about this?" Pleakley asked shakily.

"I have a good feeling about this!" Lilo insisted cheerily. "Pick it up! Maybe it's Stitch!"

Jumba flipped a switch, and instantly, the sound of a voice greeting, "Hello? Hello?" followed by a voice saying "Hailing mysterious ship! Come in, mysterious ship!" filled the cabin.

"Is mysterious ship," Jumba replied. "Who is mysterious caller?"

A third voice broke in: "We're looking for – "

The voice was completely overridden by a more familiar one: "Lilo? LILO?"

"STITCH!" Lilo screamed.

"Well, whaddaya know!" Pleakley commented, overtaken with relief. "He actually did call us!"

"Little Stitch!" Jumba replied. "We have all been worried sick for you!"

"We kinda figured that," one of the voices on the channel stated.

"He's been trying to get back to YOU for months," another added.

"Well, who're you?" Pleakley asked suspicioiusly. "If this is the part where you tell us that you're mobsters holding Stitch hostage for a high ransom, I'm not gonna be happy here!"

"We will not take threats to Stitch or rest of ohana lying down," Jumba added.

"No, no, no!" a voice said hastily. "We're not trying to RANSOM Stitch. We're trying to get him back to you!"

"And if you don't change course," another added, "you're going to miss the right world."

"How do we know this isn't a trap?" Pleakley asked.

"Telling truth!" Stitch insisted.

"I'll take it," Lilo decided. She ran up to the dashboard, positioning herself next to the radio. "Where ARE you?"

"We have coordinates ready so you can fly right into town," one of the voices stated.

"What's your name?" Lilo asked. "I feel like if you're going to give us flight directions, we should know your name."

"I'm Sadira," the voice stated. "But the one who actually knows how the flight coordinates work – "

"Is me!" another voice broke in. "The great ninja Yuffie!"

"NINJA?" Lilo's eyes lit up. "Cooooool!"

"And you're Lilo, right?" one of the voices who had not identified herself asked.

"That's me!" Lilo confirmed.

"Just follow my lead," Yuffie promised, "and you're going to be a family again real soon, okay?"

"Okay!" Lilo affirmed.

Pleakley leaned around to whisper to Jumba, "You think we need to blend in?"

"Never hurts," Jumba replied in an equally hushed tone. "But first, we land."

"Okay, so if you're ready…" Yuffie began.

...

Trials in Brakmar were held on the Boufbowl field, where torches lit the arena beneath a blood-red sky. The bleachers were filled with a hungry audience that thrived on seeing punishments dealt. A panel of judges sat at a bench at the far end of the stadium, but the high judge had his own podium, where a gavel twenty times his size waited to pound the ground at his verdict. On the opposite side of the gavel was a balance scale.

Rémington Smisse stood before the judges, hands chained behind his back. He drew himself up tall, fixing the high judge with his most confident glare, but Grany, sitting in the bleachers, knew it was all an act.

"Rémington Smisse," the high judge announced, "no fewer than twenty plaintiffs have accused you of larceny. How do you plead?"

A single bead of sweat rolled down Rémington's face. The balance scale was loaded on one side with the money paid forth by his accusers to make sure he was punished. The only way to win a trial in Brakmar was to outweigh it on the other side with a bribe of his own.

"It looks like the defendant is backed into a corner!" the announcer – because a pageant like this always had an announcer – proclaimed. "How WILL he escape this tight spot?"

"It…" Rémington laughed nervously. "It looks like I'm a little…strapped for cash at the moment…"

Grany had a single purse hooked to his belt. It would be nowhere near enough, but he had to try something. He rose from his bleacher, making to bolt for the scale.

As he took a step, he was suddenly wracked with convulsions. He doubled over, hitting the ground on all fours. Then came the sensation of his skin tightening, and his entire shape changing –

When he finally got his bearings, he took in just how large everything was now in comparison to himself. Panic surged through him. He was, once more, a Bow Meow, with no explanation.

No time to figure out how or why. Only time to save his brother.

Grany scooped the purse up into his mouth, darting down the bleachers – not an easy feat, since the audience was packed. On his journey, he got glimpses of what was going on down below.

"If you have no proof of your innocence," the high judge stated, "you will have to pay recompense to your accusers with the only price they demand."

"How much?" Rémington sighed.

With a smirk, the judge announced, "Your head."

Rémington took a cautious step back only to find a legion of law enforcement standing behind, blocking him from making a quick exit. "My…my head?" he repeated. "Just for stealing?"

"So says the law," the judge declared.

"CAPITAL PUNISHMENT!" the announcer crowed. "The worst fate of them all! There won't be a rebound from this setback!"

Just hang on a little longer, Grany thought. I'll get you out of this somehow. I don't know how, but somehow –

"You have no proof?" the judge asked again.

"Well…um…the thing is…" Rémington sputtered.

"This court finds you guilty," the judge proclaimed.

The massive gavel slammed into the ground hard enough to shake the arena.

A little longer, Grany willed the judge. Just a little longer. It was past the point where he could buy Rémington's innocence, but maybe he could interfere with the execution –

Rémington was forced down. An executioner with a gleaming axe approached.

A little longer –

The axe rose high into the sky, catching the torchlight on its razor edge.

A little longer –

The axe whistled down.

Grany's paws hit the field at the same time his brother's head rolled to greet him.

...

"NO!"

As soon as the words left Grany's lips in reality, he realized where he actually was: in his bed upon the WHAM ARMY warship. He sat up, patting down his entire body to make sure it was still solidly human.

Rémington. Where was Rémington?

Grany's feet hit the ground, and he burst out of the door of his apartment just in time to cross paths with his brother. "You're not dead!" he cried in amazement and relief.

"Of course I'm not dead," Rémington stated casually, though he himself looked a bit shaken. "Why would you think I was dead?"

"…No reason," Grany replied. "Where are you going?"

"To find Mim," Rémington answered. "For personal reasons."

"Of course you are," Grany sighed. Business as usual. "I'll let you go…do that."

As he turned to leave Rémington to his quest, Rémington surprised him by asking, "Bad dream?"

Grany faced Rémington once more. "How did you know?"

"I had one myself," Rémington admitted. "It's a bit strange."

"You don't think we had the same dream, do you?" Grany wondered out loud, thinking of how easily Rémington could have dreamed of himself facing capital punishment.

"That would be impossible," Rémington replied, now finding himself curious as to if Grany had dreamed himself being swallowed by Rushu. "…It would, wouldn't it? Maybe you should tell me your dream."

Grany nodded. "And then you tell me about yours."

They fell into step, still making their way toward Mim's last known location as they disclosed their nightmares to each other.

...

"Your rooms," Aeleus introduced as he led Snatcher and Garfield to a pair of doors.

Garfield nudged one of the doors open. "Pretty sweet setup," he commented.

Aeleus then turned away, stating, "Your tour is over. You will not get lost." It wasn't a question.

"Excuse me," Snatcher called after him, "but am going to need several items to outfit room. Such as soap – "

"It is taken care of," Aeleus said as he strolled away.

"Aren't you from, like, the first century?" Garfield asked once Aeleus was out of earshot. "I wouldn't have taken you for a guy who cares about soap."

"Nor would I have," Snatcher replied softly, now in his natural timbre, "but it becomes addictive. Moreso than others."

"If you're about to tell me what personal hygiene products you DON'T use, ignorance is really bliss."

"Duly noted."

They both ducked into one room, Snatcher making sure the door was firmly shut and latched behind them. Garfield, finding his current skirt left him no way to sit cross-legged on the bed, draped both ankles over the side resignedly as he drew his scroll from his pocket.

Across town, in a small inn of ill repute in the cleanliness department, the Huntsman and Vexen shared a room of their own, each using his scroll to look up whatever topics he desired and not interact with the other person in the room, which, strangely, gave them more respect for each other than either had had before. The Huntsman's scroll vibrated in his hand, indicating an incoming call.

"They are reporting," he stated, and this got Vexen's attention. The Huntsman answered the call with "Report in" over speakerphone.

"You certainly did take your time about it," Vexen added.

"Gimme a break, okay?" Garfield responded. "We had a lot of things to see and people to meet. And I mean a LOT of people. We're talking serious trouble here. You said you routinely get beat up by about eight of these guys? Because I've got bad news on that front – "

"Nothing, of course," Snatcher broke in, "that we can't overcome by learning more about them. Which we certainly have. Besides, if we were to attack the residents of this castle in their current state, we may just have the advantage. Our most persistent foes are, at the moment, quite absent."

"Most persistent foes?" Vexen repeated.

"The child with the key," Snatcher explained. "The girl with the scythe. The green abomination. The girl you mentioned who could control water at a whim. The undead shell. Lord Mozenrath's royal nemesis and her consort. And the apparent lover of the child with the key. All are off on some quest or another."

"Harassing Mozenrath, in all likelihood," Vexen assumed.

"Not quite," Snatcher clarified. "A name was dropped. Seems they're pursuing Miss Fall. Should they continue on this course of action, one side or the other may very well be wiped out without us having to lift a finger."

"Mozenrath will find that a disappointment," the Huntsman said without thinking. "He would far prefer to have a hand in the destruction of both."

"I'm sure you're right," Snatcher replied, "but we're better off the other way, and you know it. There will be other enemies we can bring down, of course."

"Why do you care what qualms Mozenrath will have, anyhow?" Vexen snapped. "An enemy dead is an enemy dead. This is not a conclusion that can be swayed by emotional factors. I thought you of all people would have the sense to know that!"

Snatcher knew when a conversation was best hijacked. "And I thought you of all people would know better than to waste valuable time arguing petty matters," he stated. "We've a lot to go through. Names, tales of origin, and magical powers for each to boot."

"We got a bunch of files, too," Garfield added. "Some recordings. Some pics. A lot of people around here who I was able to talk into taking a selfie with me. I'll send 'em over after we're done talking."

"Very well," Vexen said. "Begin."

"I am rather eager to hear what we are up against," the Huntsman admitted. "Perhaps a challenge shall allow us to prove our worth."

"To begin," Snatcher stated, "the wizard Merlin. Perhaps the greatest obstacle we have, once the factors I named previously are removed."

Snatcher and Garfield spent a couple hours revealing the information they had learned to the Huntsman and Vexen. Jaune and Kairi were the last to be discussed. "All of this is anecdotal, of course," Snatcher explained, "as neither was present in the castle at the time."

"Nor were…" the Huntsman took a moment to recall the names. "Nora, Yuffie, Moana, and Sadira, by the way you told it." It was moreso a repetition to make sure he had absorbed the information properly than anything else.

"As I said," Snatcher confirmed. "However, Mr. Vexen, it seems your young charge is well-respected as a warrior and a leader."

"She is no longer my charge," Vexen grumbled. "May the powers that be spare me from having any other."

"Given what I heard plus your account from the Balmera," Snatcher deducted, "it would be wise to discover an exploitable weakness within her that would allow us to have the upper hand sooner rather than later."

"Did you hear any reason as to why she attacked me with a sword?" Vexen inquired.

"A sword?" Snatcher repeated. "Er…I don't see the oddity in a sword."

"She did not use a Keyblade against me," Vexen stated. "This goes against all I knew of her when last I walked upon Radiant Garden grounds. Your next mission is to discover why she did not use her Keyblade."

"Gotcha," Garfield replied. "We'll get the dirt for ya."

"You have done well," the Huntsman stated. "We now know the names of more of our foes than they know of us. Names will not win us battles, but it is a start."

"I thought you'd find the powers more interesting," Garfield told him.

"I found them quite interesting indeed," the Huntsman confirmed. "I have an additional task to request of you. Determine why Sadira, Nora, Yuffie, and Moana separated themselves from the group and if they are to do so again."

"What are you planning?" Vexen asked with suspicion.

"One girl possesses magical powers," the Huntsman answered cryptically. "The others can be overcome with mere strength. It could be an opportunity in hiding. You will know more details if my thoughts are proven correct. As you yourself said, Vexen, an enemy dead is an enemy dead."

"Very well," Vexen said. "I will follow your lead. It had better bear fruit."

"If that is all you have to report," the Huntsman commanded, "end this conversation and begin sending files."

"What, no 'I love you'?" Garfield teased.

"At once," Snatcher confirmed. "I will begin – "

"Uh, no," Garfield interrupted. "I'm sending the files."

"For the last time, Mr. Lynns, I know well how to work a scroll – "

"For the last time, MR. SNATCHER, it's called a 'phone' – "

"Yet you berate us for wasting time on petty arguments?" the Huntsman challenged.

"…Actually," Snatcher said, "Mr. Lynns will be the one to send what we've retrieved. I have other matters to take care of."

"Like what?" Garfield asked.

"Private matters," Snatcher answered.

"Okay, are you going to sneak around doing stuff behind my back?" Garfield asked. "I know you think you're smarter than me, but that's a cold move."

"I assure you it is absolutely nothing relevant to our mission," Snatcher told him. "This business is more…personal."

"Okay, now I'm just getting gross mental images," Garfield groaned. "And you guys are probably regretting me not hanging up before we got here."

"It isn't of THAT nature," Snatcher growled.

Vexen gave the Huntsman an expression that clearly read "If I were the one holding the scroll, I would hang up without explanation or courtesy."

"I await your findings," the Huntsman said before disconnecting the call.

Back in the bedroom, Garfield suggested, "Flip for who gets to stay here?"

"No need," Snatcher told him, moving toward the door. "I shall take the other chamber. This one is yours."

"Right," Garfield said with a nod, now focusing intently on the scroll and the precious files stored within it.

As Snatcher repositioned himself in the other bedroom, settling onto the plush mattress of the bed, he thought about what he was about to do. It was too sentimental. Too cliché. He wasn't the sort of person to call someone simply to hear the other's voice.

It was a good thing, then, that he had such valuable information that needed to be shared.

The scroll rang once, twice. Then the other line picked up, and a syrupy voice, trying far too hard to sound sexy, declared "Hel-looooooo."

"Hello to you as well, Torchwick," Snatcher replied, a grin spreading over his face. "I trust you're well?"  
"Peachy, actually," Roman responded. "So, why'd you – oh, hang on. Yeah, Righty says hi."

Snatcher could hear a faint voice in the background insisting that "What I SAID was WATCH WHERE YOU'RE WALKING!"

This was followed by Roman holding the phone away from his face and saying "I know what I'm fucking doing – "

And this, in turn, was followed by a THUMP that indicated that Roman had collided with a tree, then a sentence Snatcher couldn't quite make out, but was pretty sure was Mozenrath saying "I have no sympathy for you."

"So what's up?" Roman said clearly into the scroll once more. "Just call to hear my gorgeous voice, or what?"

"That is absolutely not the reason," Snatcher said hurriedly. "I thought you might take an interest in some of what Mr. Lynns and I have learned during our stay here."

"Juicy gossip," Roman said with interest. "Do tell."

"It seems – "

"Waitwaitwait," Roman interrupted. "What's your situation like there?"

"My situation?"

"Well, you know," Roman said. "Did you talk your way into a four-star suite, or are you sleeping in the middle of the road?"

"Closer to the former," Snatcher related.

"Gotcha," Roman said with a click of the tongue. "Okay. So back to business."

"First of all, you'll be glad to hear Miss Rose is absent from the premises."

"Aw, I was hoping you'd be able to give her hell from me."

It only then occurred to Snatcher: Roman had interrupted his discussion to check up on him. He decided not to give it too much thought. "She has a great many cohorts here, however. Them, I may be able to do something about in your name."

"So long as you don't blow your cover."

"Perhaps just a little mayhem, then," Snatcher suggested teasingly. "Stepping on a boot lace here, tipping a drink there – "

Roman snorted. "Archie, that level of shenanigan is so beneath you, it's not even funny."

"And yet you laughed. Are you saying you've no sense of humor?"

"Whoa, now. That's a pretty serious accusation – hang on." He turned away to address a background voice: "Righty, you know damn well there is no data plan on these."

(In the background: "One of these days, that argument is going to work."

Another voice, this one Wuya: "I wouldn't bet the farm on it.")

"Continue," Roman bade Snatcher.

And so Snatcher spent a little while updating Roman on his discoveries, then gaining a mission status on the venture Roman was taking part in. It was, of course, all business –

No, he thought, it didn't have to be. That was the very trap Vexen and the Huntsman had fallen into, and the very trap he still had yet to convince them to free themselves from. It wasn't about business at all. And this was one thing he wasn't going to delude himself about.

...

When Link stopped walking, then Midna, Zelda, Aladdin, Jasmine, Ruby, Sora, Riku, Papyrus, Stork, and Katara halted in succession.

"What's wrong?" Sora asked.

"The shores of Lake Hylia are just ahead," Link revealed. "We should have some kind of plan."

"We get close enough to Lanayru to smack the light back into her," Midna related. "What's complicated about that?"

"I don't even know how the sword will work," Link admitted. "I don't want to do anything that would hurt Lanayru. There's even a possibility this won't work at all."

"Don't say that!" Sora encouraged. "Of course this is going to work!"

"Yeah, no, I'm pretty sure it won't," Stork sighed. "It's too convenient to be plausible."

"We have to try, at least," Link insisted. "The other problem is the guardian our enemies have set here."

"And if they're connected to Maleficent," Riku emphasized, "we need to be ready for anything and everything."

"WHEN ARE WE NOT?" Papyrus commented.

"I don't think this will be a problem," Midna brushed off. "The Fused Shadow will allow me to take care of whatever's waiting."

"About that," Katara brought up. "When you say 'take care of' our enemy, does that mean killing them?"

"If they're as bad as you say, why wouldn't it?" Midna replied.

"Well…we kind of have a thing about that," Katara pointed out.

"A thing," Midna repeated.

"Well, it's just that I in particular know someone who believes all life is sacred," Katara said hurriedly, "and he's taught me how valid that view is."

"MEANWHILE, I HAVE A VERY GOOD FRIEND BACK HOME WHO BELIEVES THAT THE BEST WAY TO DEAL WITH YOUR ENEMIES IS TO RUN THEM THROUGH WITH A SPEAR," Papyrus added, "AND SHE'S TAUGHT ME HOW INVALID THAT VIEW IS. THIS DOES NOT MAKE HER ANY LESS MY FRIEND, OF COURSE."

"It's something we keep discussing," Riku explained. "We all came into this with different ideas about killing. And right now, what seems best is to avoid it."

"If possible," Stork added.

"Avoid killing?" Midna repeated. "I can do that with no problem. If you want to take this guardian alive, we'll take them alive. I'm not a brute, after all. I can handle this with finesse."

"A noble stance to take," Zelda said with a solemn nod.

"So Midna's in charge of Lanayru's guardian," Ruby reiterated. "And the rest of us just…do the best we can?"

"I don't see how we can know what will happen before it does," Zelda stated.

Link sighed. "You're right."

"So we improvise," Aladdin said with a playful shrug. "Always works for me."

"I hardly ever go into a fight knowing what I'm doing!" Sora stated proudly. Then: "Wait. I don't think that came out right."

Link gave a brief nod. "Let's go."

The party began to move once more; Stork muttered to himself that they were all most certainly doomed, which might have had a bigger impact if this weren't the fiftieth time he'd done so on the journey there.

Lake Hylia stretched out before them, the dusky skies reflected in its waters and making the area seem all the darker. Link pointed across the water; "There!" He indicated Lanayru's cavern. "That's Lanayru's spring."

"How do we get there?" Ruby asked.

"If you're not afraid to get a little wet…" Midna dipped one foot into the water, then gracefully stepped in and submerged herself, swimming toward the cavern on the opposite shore.

"POOL PARTY!" Ruby shrieked before running in after Midna. "Well, okay, lake party. You know what I mean!"

No one had an objection to swimming, and they emerged on the opposite shore somewhat soaked.

"That isn't bad for Crescent Rose, is it?" Stork asked, suddenly worried (about something new, anyway).

"Nah," Ruby dismissed. "Crescent Rose is waterproof. I thought of that during the conception stage."

"Be careful," Link warned. "This is where an enemy will be hiding, if anywhere."

Weapons were drawn in a mass motion; the party tread carefully but confidently forward.

Sora, noticing a conspicuous absence of anything in Zelda's hands, walked closer to her, asking, "Hey, Zelda, are you gonna be okay? You don't have a weapon." Neither did Aladdin or Jasmine, he knew, but they could still last a while in a fight.

Zelda nodded slowly. "I will be all right," she said calmly. "Although…I do wonder if perhaps I have a plan after all."

"What kind of plan?" Midna asked.

"Deep down, these are still the light spirits we have always trusted to guard our realm," Zelda reminded her. "Perhaps our connection is still present in some form. I wish to try and speak to Lanayru before we attempt anything else. I may be able to convince her to come quietly."

"I'm not sure you understand," Midna rebutted. "Someone messed with what they are completely. Lanayru isn't going to listen to you. She probably won't even know who you are."

"I still have to try," Zelda insisted.

"And that's how we go from having a bad idea to a TERRIBLE idea," Stork groaned.

"Actually, I think she should try it," Katara suggested. "She might be onto something. And if it goes wrong, the rest of us can step in, right?"

"I like how this sounds," Ruby commented.

They had run out of time to decide. The spring lay directly before them. The group surveyed their surroundings in confusion.

"Wasn't there supposed to be someone here to try and stop us?" Aladdin wondered out loud.

"They're probably in hiding," Riku said in a low tone, moving to a battle stance.

The waters rippled, causing a flinch throughout the party. All at once, Lanayru's head burst from the water, jaws open and encircling a sphere of swirling Darkness.

All others joined Riku in striking battle stances – all but two.

"Go on," Jasmine whispered to Zelda. "We'll be right here if it goes wrong."

Zelda stepped out front, walking calmly toward Lanayru, wet skirts dragging on the ground.

"No…" Stork muttered. "No, no, nononono…"

Zelda positioned herself in front of Lanayru, looking up to meet the great serpent's gaze. "Lanayru," she said calmly. "I must bid you listen to us. We are here to help you."

Lanayru cocked her head, indicating she was taking Zelda's words under consideration. Link and Midna awaited Lanayru's reply.

But it seemed words had abandoned Lanayru in her transformation. She reared back only slightly, barely perceptibly.

Jasmine noticed it, and, intending to make good on her promise, she darted toward Zelda, intending to push her to a safer location than where she currently stood. Had she been the only one with that idea, it would have worked. Unfortunately, Stork had been waiting, tensed, for something to go wrong, and from the moment he saw Lanayru move, he burst toward Zelda from the opposite direction. As it were, Jasmine and Stork cried "LOOK OUT!" and collided with Zelda at the same time from either side; all three ended up falling to the ground just as Lanayru loosed a sphere of Darkness from her mouth. The magic made contact with the fallen three at the same time, drawing from them three screams.

"JASMINE!" Aladdin cried.

"ZELDA!" Link and Midna chorused.

"STORK!" Sora and Ruby yelled.

When the sphere's obscurity cleared, Jasmine and Stork found themselves bruised and battered, but whole and awake. Zelda, however, was out cold.

"Zelda?" Stork crawled to her side, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her gently. "ZELDA! …Oh, this is not good, this is NOT GOOD – "

Lanayru took this chance to surge forth, twisting once in a snapping motion to curl Stork, Zelda, and Jasmine up in her coil. She barged out of the cavern, knocking all the others down on the way.

"HEY!" Midna snapped, the first to get up and turn after Lanayru. "You're not getting away with – "

The Shadow Insects exploded from the spring, swarming over the group.

Midna let out an ear-splitting scream, covering her head. "DON'T LET THEM TOUCH ME!" she shrieked. "I HATE BUGS!"

Link rushed to her, but Sora got there first, staring him down. "You have to go after Lanayru!" Sora urged. "You have the sword!"

"Protect her," Link commanded before turning and barreling down the cavern toward its entrance.

Aladdin, Ruby, Katara, and Papyrus followed him, knocking the bugs out of their way with fists and bones. Midna knelt on the ground, making herself spherical and whimpering. The insects crowded around her, seeing an easy target; she was far too anxious to summon any of her magic.

"We can't leave her!" Sora insisted to Riku.

Riku nodded. "We shouldn't kill any of them. But we can stir them up!"

Sora extended a hand, and Riku followed his lead, taking it. They spun toward each other, colliding in a bright flash of light. When it faded, Sora had absorbed Riku into a Drive, bearing Oblivion as well as his own blade.

"TAKE THIS!" he yelled at the insects, whirling round and round and building up an air current. Between his and Riku's strength combined, they whipped the insects into a cyclone, swirling them away from Midna. As soon as she saw the opportunity, she leapt up, speeding out of the cavern.

"Don't let any more of them out after her!" Riku commanded from within Sora's mind.

"Got it!" Sora affirmed, facing down the insects' source, blades at the ready to knock them back. "It's really just like the bees in the Hundred Acre Wood. But bigger."

With Riku guiding his hands, Sora parried the surge of insects at every stop.

Outside, Lanayru had burst upward toward the dusky sky, holding her three prisoners captive. She had used her advantageous position that none could reach to fire spheres of Darkness at those who faced her. Ruby had been ready on the defense, using her scythe to cut down sphere after sphere, to Lanayru's frustration.

Midna ran out to the small strip of shoreline where her comrades were gathered to see this scene. "MIDNA!" Ruby yelled after parrying another volley. "Can you turn into that giant spider thing again? We could use the giant spider thing!"

"Here's the problem," Midna explained. "If it were just Lanayru, I could do that. But she has three very small captives. If I pull out the stops now, I could end up hurting them. She has to let go first."

"Then we'll get her to let go," Link resolved.

"I think I have an idea," Katara realized. "I don't know if it will do what I want, but it's all I have. I need to get up high, and I need Lanayru to be distracted from me."

"If it's a distraction you want," Aladdin said, "I can help with that. Hey, Ruby. I hear you're a pretty fast runner. Are you a fast swimmer, too?"

"I can be," Ruby replied, "if I get a chance to get in the water without Lanayru FIRING THINGS AT ME!"

A wall of bright blue bones slammed down in front of Ruby, deflecting the latest shot. "IT WON'T HOLD FOR LONG!" Papyrus worried.

"Okay, everyone!" Katara yelled, realizing the new first step in her plan. "Get in the water and SCATTER!"

The lake's waters rippled as Aladdin, Link, Midna, Katara, Ruby, and Papyrus entered. Lanayru's head twisted about as she searched for a target above the surface.

"OVER HERE!"

Aladdin had made himself known, and the moment he called out, Lanayru turned to launch a sphere. He was faster, disappearing beneath the water and speeding off to another part of the lake. The Darkness impacted where he had been but moments prior, and the shockwave propelled him forth.

"HEY!"

That was Ruby, bobbing in the water and waving at Lanayru. She fired at Ruby; the girl in red ducked beneath the surface and zoomed with the speed of a torpedo.

That gave Aladdin enough time to resurface and yell "COME AND GET ME!"

Lanayru whipped back and forth between the two as they signaled her attention:

"CAN'T CATCH ME!"

"TOO SLOW!"

"YOU'RE IT!"

"ARE YOU EVEN TRYING?"

This gave Link, Papyrus, Midna, and Katara a chance to gather on the opposite shore, where they had more room to move.

"DO YOU STILL NEED TO GET UP HIGH?" Papyrus asked Katara.

"Yes," Katara said. "Right by Lanayru."

"LEAVE IT TO ME!" Papyrus said with a flourish of both hands.

An enormous bone hovered vertically in the air before Katara. Another one took its place slightly above and behind it. Bone after bone slid into place, making a stairway that led right up beside Lanayru.

"Thanks!" Katara said gratefully. Steeling herself, she muttered, "I hope this works."

As she took her first step onto the stairway, she drew up a fountain of water from the lake. Ascending further and further upward, she drew that fountain along with her, making sure it was still connected, threadlike, to the lake below. This sort of bending took quite a bit of effort and concentration, and more than once, Katara nearly fell off the staircase. At last, she arrived in the air near where Lanayru was twisting about to attack her quarry.

Katara flicked the water she'd been drawing alongside herself, looping it around Lanayru's neck. Then, at Katara's behest, the water froze, making a long pole down to the lake and continuing to anchor as ice below the surface.

Lanayru, finding herself collared, thrashed hard to break the ice. In the process, her grip on Stork, Jasmine, and Zelda loosened, and all three plunged toward the water below.

Stork's hand flew to his chest before he extended both arms to grab hold of Jasmine and Zelda's hands. He never had gotten out of the habit of packing a parachute somewhere on his person in case of emergency. The chute opened, but the weight of three was too much for it, and all it did was provide slight drag in their descent. They hit the water, sinking fast. Stork and Jasmine repositioned to grab onto Zelda and swim her to the surface.

"Did she breathe any water?" Stork asked in a panic once all three were above surface level.

"I don't know," Jasmine replied.

"We need to get her to the shore," Stork said urgently, and he and Jasmine moved to guide her there.

Lanayru's convulsions finally took effect, breaking the ice collar. Katara, seeing her need to make an exit, dove off the top stair, landing gracefully in the water below. By that time, Midna, having banked on Katara's success, had made it up the stairway Papyrus was keeping in place.

Midna leapt, landing squarely on Lanayru's back. Once there, her form quivered, and she erupted into the shape of the beast fueled by the Fused Shadow. Her limbs wrapped around Lanayru, and her weight dragged the dark spirit down to the water's surface, where they collided with an immense splash. Midna wrestled Lanayru to the shore where Link was waiting, sword drawn.

Lanayru's face rested before Link, her head held in place by Midna, and Link approached her with the flat of his blade held up toward her. The metal glowed a faint blue; once its tint caught Lanayru's eye, the snake settled, struggling less and less. Link was then close enough to touch Lanayru, and he rested the flat of the blade against her snout.

The change radiated outward from the spot where the blade touched like ripples outward from a rock thrown in a pool. What was once Darkness became glowing Light, spreading over Lanayru's face and down the rest of her body.

As she became Light once more, her skin sizzled against where Midna held her, and almost too late did Midna realize the ramifications of being a creature of Twilight and touching Lanayru during her return to pure Light. With a cry of pain, Midna relinquished her hold on Lanayru, retreating into the water.

Link quickly removed the sword from Lanayru's skin, rushing to look out over the lake and find where Midna had gone down. Fortunately, the transformation he had begun with the Sols' power was not about to stop. Light imbued the rest of Lanayru, reverting her to the form she had been before the sands of Goab had warped her.

In the meantime, Stork and Jasmine had hauled Zelda up onto the nearby shore. Stork rolled Zelda onto her back and tilted her head to the side; water dribbled out onto the ground. "This is strictly professional," Stork stated before turning her head back upward. Pinching her nose with one hand, he pressed his mouth to hers.

He had made sure to know the practice of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation almost immediately after joining the Storm Hawks, figuring at least one of his teammates was going to get themselves into a situation where it would be needed. He bristled at the thought that he was doing this without any sort of airway bag to stop whatever pathogens were in Zelda's mouth from entering his own, but the circumstances didn't allow him to take the time to obtain one or lament the lack of them.

When Stork felt Zelda stir, he backed off, watching as she opened her eyes and slowly rose to sitting. "It was a necessary life-saving operation," Stork said hurriedly, hoping she wouldn't get the wrong idea. "You inhaled water. It wasn't personal."

Zelda nodded with a smile. "I understand. And I thank you for rescuing me."

That was when the heavens opened. For once Lanayru, guardian Light spirit of the Lanayru province, had been returned to Light, the Twilight over the entirety of her domain was lifted as well. The sun broke through the dusky gray above, and brilliant blue chased all of the other murky colors away.

The insects had ceased to fly from the spring, and this brought Sora back out to witness the brightening. In a shimmer, Riku separated from him, regaining his body.

Lanayru looked to Link as Link's gaze wandered over the water. "Hero of Hyrule," she said in a voice that was soft in tone yet boomingly loud, slow and deliberate, as though every syllable were given artistic thought and weight. "You have changed me into something I believe is what I was meant to be. You have restored light to much of Hyrule. Yet you seem distracted."

"Midna," Link said worriedly. "Where's Midna?"

"Your companion rests in the shadows," Lanayru assured him. "The harm dealt to her is not grievous. You may go to her soon. I wish first to properly thank you…and to voice my concern."

Link forced his gaze back to Lanayru. "I apologize if I disrespected you," he said sheepishly, bowing his head.

"You gave me no disrespect," Lanayru told him. "You care for her. I cannot fault you. It is to be expected of a heart such as yours. It seems you have found many similarly brave and pure hearts." By now, Ruby, Aladdin, and Katara had joined Link and Papyrus on the shore, and all were riveted gazing at Lanayru; Ruby and Papyrus in particular were making faces of awe that most with less dignity than Lanayru would have found completely ridiculous. "I am glad, for it seems you have a difficult journey ahead.

"It seemed to me as though my existence as a spirit of Darkness was all that had ever been. Yet now that I think of history as I know it, it does not favor that memory. My brethren and I were transformed by Dark forces. I sense even now that three remain in their transformed states. You carry with you the power to restore them. It is up to you to do so."

"AND WE ABSOLUTELY WILL!" Papyrus asserted.

"Beware the one who has changed us," Lanayru continued. "Such great power is to be feared. Facing that one is a great risk that will endanger your lives."

"I'm ready," Ruby stated. "Someone has to face that danger."

"And I'm pretty sure we're the only ones who can even walk in the Twilight without turning into spirits," Aladdin brought up. "But we've all faced Maleficent's goons before. We'll do it again!"

"I give you my blessing," Lanayru stated. "And once we four are whole again, we will be able to properly aid you."

"Thank you," Katara said respectfully.

"I shall not keep you," Lanayru concluded. "You have little time to waste. The fate of this world rests with you."

With that, she turned and floated back to the cavern that housed her spring. It was just then that Sora and Riku managed to swim up to Link, Katara, Papyrus, Ruby, and Aladdin; Zelda, Stork, and Jasmine approached by land.

"Jasmine!" Aladdin rushed to his bride, taking her hands up in his. "You're okay?"

"I'm all right," Jasmine confirmed.

"I WASN'T WORRIED!" Papyrus remarked. "I KNEW THEY WOULD ALL BE ALL RIGHT IN THE END!" This statement wasn't entirely true.

"What happened?" Sora asked. "What did we miss?"

"Lanayru gave us her blessing," Link informed him. "She warned us about the forces that transformed her and the other Light spirits and reminded us that we're the only ones who can save them."

"It won't be easy," Riku remarked, "but we've already come this far."

"Where's Midna?" Jasmine asked.

"Lanayru said she had gone to the shade," Link explained.

It took some searching, but Midna was found tucked beneath a tree far inland, staring at the palms of her hands. The others stood back while Link approached her gently. "Midna…"

She snapped to attention to look at Link, giving him a coy smile. "Looks like I have to remember to let go sooner next time," she teased.

"Are you all right?" Link asked. He recalled, long ago, when she had been exposed to Lanayru's full light and nearly perished.

"Don't worry about me," Midna told him.

"May I see your hands?" Link asked.

Midna gave a defeated sigh before stretching out her arms. She had wanted to prolong this, but she knew if she resisted, it would make Link all the more suspicious that she wasn't as fine as she seemed.

Link flinched when he saw the burns that covered her palms and stretched out over her wrists, patterning her arms.

"It isn't that bad," Midna insisted in a huff.

"You need some kind of help for it," Link told her. "Maybe now that the light is returned to Castle Town, we can go back and – "

"We're not going back!" Midna spat. "Not after we came all this way! And it isn't like your doctors know how to treat a Twili."

"Um…can I try something?" This was Sora, stepping forth into the conversation.

"You might as well," Midna told him.

Sora's blade appeared in a flash, and he extended it toward Midna. As he spoke the word "Heal," a green aura surrounded Midna, washing over her skin. The burns receded; their marks were still present, but they no longer looked so angry.

"Huh," Midna commented. "That took away the pain." Upon seeing Link's expression, she quickly added, "It wasn't that much pain!"

"Will you be able to walk?" Link asked.

Midna first responded to that by drawing herself to a standing position. "Of course I can walk! Don't assume I can't!"

"Sorry," Link said with a flush, nervously scratching the back of his head. "I just got worried after Lanayru transformed that you were…well, I know you're strong. I shouldn't worry so much."

A soft smile crossed Midna's face. As much as she was trying to preserve her ego, she had to admit she was touched to hear that Link had worried for her. "I'll forgive you," she teased. "Well, one down and three to go, right?"

"Right!" Link said with a nod.

"That wasn't so bad," Midna remarked as she, Link, and Sora rejoined the group. "There better not be bugs next time, though. I HATE bugs!"

"We'll keep the bugs off you," Sora promised.

"Nice plan, by the way," Midna told Katara. "That was clever."

"Thanks," Katara replied. "I really owe it to Papyrus for making the stairway."

"IT WAS NOTHING!" Papyrus said flippantly.

"And we did it just like you two wanted," Midna asserted. "No one died. Though wasn't there supposed to be someone here we weren't going to kill?"

"Oh, right!" Katara recalled. "The guardian Maleficent stationed!"

"That is odd," Jasmine added. "There was no one to be found."

"Maybe they ran away for some reason?" Sora suggested.

"Maybe there never was one," Ruby pondered, "and we fell for a lie."

"Maybe they're hidden away in the shadows," Riku countered, "and we haven't seen the worst yet."

"I'm going with that one," Stork agreed.

"I don't know how likely this is," Aladdin brought up, "but what if someone else got to them first?"

"Who else could walk in the Twilight?" Ruby reminded him.

"Yeah, you're right," Aladdin said with a nod. "Probably not likely."

"Lanayru wasn't worried about it," Link recalled, "so something good must have happened, if there ever was a guardian at all."

"Then let's not worry about it," Midna suggested. "So, we all agree Eldin next, right?"

"That makes the most sense," Zelda concurred.

"Eldin's going to have a lot less water," Midna said pointedly at Katara.

"I think we can manage," Katara replied.

...

Eldin Province, as Midna had said, was dry, rocky country. That was something Mozenrath, Yzma, Roman, Demyx, Irmaplotz, and Zevon were finding out firsthand while Hans and Wuya were reminded.

Wuya brought the party to a halt partway down a road leading to a small village tucked at the base of a mountain. "Kakariko Village is ahead," she announced.

"So?" Mozenrath asked.

"So that's where the spring is," Wuya explained. "And, by extension, Maleficent's next general." She turned back to face the others. "We're not going in there without a plan."

Without needing to be told, the group formed into a circle. "I don't know how much we can plan without knowing what we're up against," Mozenrath brought up, "but I do know one thing." He glared directly at Demyx. "Last time, we got set back because of YOU."

"What did I do?" Demyx moaned.

"I don't know what you did," Mozenrath reminded him, "but we were doing perfectly fine until little miss emo saw you doing whatever it is you did and set her pet snake on you."

"All I did was summon my weapon!" Demyx whined. "That's what I was supposed to do, right?"

"Well, you did it wrong," Mozenrath asserted. "This time, do it right if at all."

Demyx let out another whine, this one wordless.

"Okay, this has been bothering me for a while now," Hans broke in, "but what's with you?"

"What do you mean, what's with me?" Demyx replied.

"Why doesn't anybody here like you?" Hans asked.

"I don't mind him," Zevon stated.

"I'm pretty okay with him," Irmaplotz added.

"Okay, you two are cool," Demyx affirmed.

"His problem is that he doesn't pull his weight," Mozenrath related.

"Look, I just don't do well on teams, okay?" Demyx sighed. "The same thing happened to me when I was working for Organization XIII. I always had Saïx breathing down my neck for 'not pulling my weight.' Whatever. I'm just always gonna be that guy. It's not like I actually care."

"Interesting," Hans commented. "That doesn't really answer my question, but I guess it's just something I'll have to see in action. Anyway, it sounds like the last attack was triggered by the enemy figuring out you had a weapon on you."

"What am I supposed to do about that?" Demyx groaned. "NOT fight? …Actually, that's a good plan. How about this time, I don't fight?"

"Here's an actual good idea," Wuya broke in. "You walk in with your weapon in hand. That way, you can start using it right away, and nobody can stop you from summoning it."

"Okay, you're cool too," Demyx decided. He took two steps back to get enough room for the sitar before calling it to his hands.

"He might actually be our best play," Wuya brought up. "Hit Maleficent's stooge with enough of those forms you can summon and they'll be overwhelmed."

"You're saying DEMYX is our best play," Mozenrath said in disbelief.

"What was I thinking?" Wuya replied. "We'll just have you blast our problem away with your magic. Oh, wait. You can't USE your magic without vaporizing half the team."

"Fair point," Mozenrath sighed. "All right. The plan is Demyx."

"Beyond that," Wuya said, "we'll have to improvise."

"Have I ever mentioned how much I hate improvisation?" Mozenrath groaned.

"I LOVE improv!" Irmaplotz broke in. "Especially the game where everyone's attending a party, but they all have different weird personality traits, and the host has to guess, and I think I just figured out what I want to try and organize when we get back home!"

"I'm in!" Zevon crowed.

"I don't know what she's talking about," Mozenrath grunted, "but I'm sure I'll hate it."

"Improvising is our only option," Wuya reminded him. "Well, that and hitting them fast and hard. Also, I get the general. I want no misunderstandings there."

"No misunderstandings," Yzma agreed.

Wuya turned back to face the road. "Let's go."

As they made their way, Zevon muttered to himself, "You've got this. We've got this! We rock. We can't lose. I'm not nervous. There's no reason to be nervous. Who's nervous?"

Kakariko's buildings were well spaced out, round and built of stone; one lay close to the province's sacred spring. At the shore of the spring, a lone man awaited, tossing a hunting knife into the air and letting it spin before catching it by the handle, again and again and again. When he saw the party approaching, he gave the knife a final spin in his hand before tucking it away at his belt and picking up the Huntsclan-issue crossbow that leaned against his leg.

"Shoulda known you'd come along," Percival C. McLeach chuckled, raising the crossbow. "You kiddies just can't resist trying to swim in the grown-ups' pool, can you?"

"Okaaaaay," Roman replied, "making cracks about kids being outside their boundaries is my thing. And when I do it, I taunt actual kids. Not people a hundred years older than me."

"I'm not THAT old!" Yzma protested.

"That's right," McLeach remembered with a smirk. "The witch did say you couldn't even hold your own against a bunch of little girls."

"Ooh, burn," Demyx laughed.

"WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON HERE?" Roman yelled at Demyx.

"It's eight against one," Wuya reminded McLeach. "Do the smart thing and surrender your piece of the Triforce of Power."

"You think I'm stupid?" McLeach snapped. "It's eight on one because I'm the only one they need here!"

He punctuated that sentence by firing a green blast from the crossbow.

Wuya sidestepped it by just a hair, knowing full well the Huntsclan technology could stand up to her magic. Her red mane whipped behind her; the green bolt clipped a few stray strands off. "I was hoping you'd make it fun," she admitted, lighting both hands up with flames of the same green color.

McLeach gave a whistle, and the waters behind him shuddered. In a sudden burst, an enormous eagle composed entirely of Dark energy erupted from the spring, taking to the air with great flaps of its black wings. Its claws clutched at a sphere of pure Darkness.

"Finally got my eagle," McLeach laughed, "and this one's worth more to me alive than dead!" With another whistle, he commanded, "Take out the pretty boy in blue!"

The spirit Eldin swooped over McLeach and down toward the assembled members of the WHAM ARMY. At once, Roman, Yzma, Zevon, Demyx, Wuya, and Irmaplotz scattered. Mozenrath was frozen momentarily, unable to process the situation until the bird was headed directly for him.

He then became aware of another form inserting itself in between Eldin and his target. Hans attempted to block the blow, but given Eldin's size and momentum, he only cushioned it. Both Hans and Mozenrath were sent spilling across the battlefield.

Mozenrath rolled all the way back into the stone wall of one of the buildings at the spring's edge. His head swam as it smacked into the hard wall. He tried to fix his sights on Hans and was vaguely able to perceive the auburn-headed prince lying splayed out on the ground a short distance before him, a small pool of blood gathering in the dust.

This instinctively made Mozenrath angrier than his rational thought told him he should be.

He attempted to stand, using his sword as a crutch. Pain shot through one leg, indicating it was probably not suitable to stand on. Mozenrath pushed past it anyway, wobbling to his feet and raising his sword.

A green bolt was planted right in his other leg, sending him down with a sharp cry.

By then, Demyx had gotten his bearings. With a yell of "DANCE, WATER, DANCE!", he strummed the sitar, sending dozens of watery forms spreading out over the battlefield and converging upon McLeach. McLeach gritted his teeth in frustration as he shot down form after form.

Roman positioned himself with Cudgel raised, fixing McLeach in his scope. He considered whether he had enough firepower to blast right through the water forms and hit McLeach. It was probably better, he thought, to wait for an opening. Just as he thought such a thing, the forms before him were thinned in ranks, leaving a direct path in the air to McLeach –

Eldin dropped his first sphere of Darkness directly on top of Roman.

"NO!" Yzma, Zevon, Wuya, and Irmaplotz cried.

After the collision, Roman lay facedown on the ground, unmoving, one arm bent at an odd angle.

"That's it," Irmaplotz muttered, racing to position herself below Eldin.

"NO!" Wuya screamed, reaching out after Irmaplotz. Her eyes flicked back and forth between the girl and McLeach. Irmaplotz, McLeach, Irmaplotz, McLeach –

She made her decision too late. Irmaplotz forged a massive projectile of green energy, hurling it upward at Eldin. Eldin's response was to build up a second sphere of Darkness and drop it. The sphere plunged down through Irmaplotz's feeble attempt, landing on the girl with a shudder that rocked the earth. Now Irmaplotz lay next to Roman, eyes shut, glasses shattered some six inches away from her face.

Gritting her teeth, Wuya abandoned the pursuit of McLeach and launched herself into the air. She landed hard on Eldin's back, seizing the spirit by the back of the neck with a magically charged grip. Eldin gave a screech as Wuya jerked on his skin, attempting to steer him. The spirit faltered in the air, bobbing up and down as he tried to amass more Darkness to drop.

Yzma and Zevon raced toward Mozenrath, who had sunken to both knees. "MOZENRATH!" Yzma cried, immediately kneeling to meet his height.

"Don't you dare die on us!" Zevon said worriedly.

"I'm not going to die," Mozenrath growled. "I need to get close. I…need…to make him…pay." He tried again to stand and fell immediately backward.

"You're not going anywhere," Yzma informed him. "Now stay down before you break something."

"NO!" Mozenrath argued.

"If YOU go down, we ALL go down!" Yzma reminded him. "Without you, none of us are coming back from the dead! So YOU'RE NOT GOING TO – "

Her sentence ended in a shrill scream. The green bolt that had cut through her shoulder was embedded in the building's wall.

"MOTHER!" Zevon cried. He looked worriedly about, unknowing of what to do. He thought back to the three potions still on his belt. At least one of them could come in handy, and he mentally selected the best one for the job. That would do him no good, however, at that distance; he couldn't hope to throw it such that it would hit McLeach. McLeach would probably shoot the flask out of the air anyway.

As he pondered, Eldin managed to build up another sphere of Darkness.

"DON'T YOU DARE!" Wuya demanded.

Eldin dared. His talons loosed the sphere on Mozenrath, Yzma, and Zevon below.

Zevon and Yzma braced for impact.

A dome of water suddenly surrounded them, exploding into droplets when the Darkness collided with it. This had neutralized the Dark attack. Demyx had made his way to the trio as quickly as he could while balancing his sitar.

"So you do pull your weight when it suits you," Mozenrath grunted.

"Hey, I just saved your life!" Demyx snapped. "Now you have to be nice to me!"

Eldin wobbled into a position to make another swoop down at the four who remained conscious on the ground. Wuya poured all her magic into resisting him. She was bolstered when Demyx sent a fountain of water rocketing into Eldin's chin, causing the eagle to veer greatly off course.

"That's it," Wuya growled. "You are going to your room."

She let go of Eldin's neck, but a harness appeared around the area she had just removed her hands from; it connected to reins that rested in her hands, allowing her to better steer the Dark spirit. She took him for a ride round and round over Kakariko Village.

Yzma stood, ignoring the pain in her shoulder. "BRING IT DOWN!" she yelled at Wuya, staring up in awe that Wuya had gotten the massive spirit under her control.

That was when the next bolt hit her in the leg. She was felled with yet another scream.

"You keep lettin' your guard down!" McLeach laughed. "I knew you were a bunch of morons, but I didn't know it was this bad! I woulda killed you with that last shot if I didn't know the boss wanted me to make it painful."

To his delight, Mozenrath was yet again trying to stand. "But you," McLeach said softly, so only he could hear, "you've taken your hits. I don't think she'd mind if I killed you right here."

The crossbow's aim was fixed upon Mozenrath's heart.

McLeach was then struck by a rush of watery spheres that sent him reeling, stepping back into the waters of the spring. Demyx's fingers danced over the sitar's springs.

"Demyx," Zevon urged, "keep playing! I have an idea, but I need your help to executivate it!"

"Does this idea involve me risking my neck?" Demyx asked.

"No," Zevon answered.

"Then I'm in," Demyx said.

Watery forms erupted over the battlefield once more, charging McLeach head-on. McLeach steadied himself, muttering about "stupid kids and their stupid magic" as he brought them down again and again. The water that sprayed from them pooled on the ground, flowing toward the edge of the spring.

Before McLeach could process what was happening, that water had risen up into a small wave, crashing over him and leaving him soaked. It took him a moment to realize all he'd gotten was wet. "WHAT WAS THAT SUPPOSED TO DO?" he yelled smugly at Demyx and Zevon.

"Wait for it!" Zevon called back.

That was when the potion that Zevon had poured into the water Demyx had commanded and brought to McLeach kicked in, having absorbed through McLeach's pores. The poacher's arms became limp and unable to hold the crossbow, which splashed into the water at his side. His legs no longer bore his weight, buckling all too flexibly and sending him splashing down onto his back, facing upward in the shallow water.

"RUBBER BONE POTION!" Zevon cried triumphantly. "KABOOM!"

McLeach muttered several vulgarities to himself under his breath.

Wuya had by then mastered her control over Eldin, and she sent the spirit diving straight down into the spring. McLeach braced himself; Eldin entered the waters behind him, disappearing into the water. Wuya let go of the harness, flipping backward and landing gracefully on her feet before McLeach.

"What're you gonna do?" McLeach taunted, even knowing the futility of his position. "Kill me?"

Wuya quickly snapped downward and scooped up his hand, clamping it in hers and drawing the Triforce of Power through McLeach. She smiled as she noted the triangular crest on the back of her hand glowing ever brighter. Then she let his hand fall.

"WUYA!" The cry came from Yzma. Wuya turned just in time to see Yzma, on her knees, loading up her atlatl. "CATCH!"

The dart went soaring through the air; Wuya snagged it, gave it a spin, then plunged it directly down into McLeach.

It pierced his chest, knocking into his ribcage, a good distance away from his heart. "You missed," McLeach said with a grin.

"Did I?" Wuya retorted.

In a cloud of pink smoke, McLeach transformed. His new body was propelled high into the air. Wuya smirked as she saw the tiny shadow fall –

And was horrified to realize he was now a fish. And, since his body had been completely recomposed by the transfiguration potion, he had regained a skeleton.

The fish splashed down into the water; Wuya chased after him. He leapt over a small hurdle in the earth, then into the very depths of the back of the spring. Wuya persisted, diving into the deeper water just in time to see McLeach squirm his way into a crack in the furthest wall of rock that made up the spring's containment. She threw enough magic at the wall to blow a wide crevice in it, but there was no fish to be found; he'd made his escape.

Wuya stormed, dripping wet, toward Yzma, yelling, "A fish? A FISH? I completely LOST him because you made him something that could breathe underwater! I was expecting a frog! Or a rat! Something that could DROWN!"

"You think I'm in any position to be picky about what potion I grabbed?" Yzma snapped back, gesturing with her good hand at her injured shoulder and the leg that was seeping blood. "Why didn't YOU just stab him somewhere fatal with it?"

"I thought we were on the same page!" Wuya groaned. "He shot you in the leg to make you suffer, and I stabbed him somewhere nonfatal to make HIM suffer before he was SUPPOSED to drown! An eye for an eye!"

She was aware of the spring rippling behind her, and she whipped around, creating an enormous pot lid that slammed down on the spring's depths; Eldin crashed into it from below, but it only clattered slightly. "I won't be able to hold that forever," Wuya informed Yzma, Zevon, Demyx, and Mozenrath. "We'll need to figure out a recovery plan."

"Well," Mozenrath remarked, "I can get us Roman and Hans back and patch up Yzma's wounds in – "

Without going any further in that sentence, he waved his right hand, and those he had named, along with Demyx and Zevon, became flickering blue lights. Another wave brought them all back.

"I thought you were gonna count us down from three!" Demyx moaned. "I was NOT ready for that!"

"Now," Mozenrath muttered as Hans and Roman approached the group, "about me and Irmaplotz."

"Oh, don't tell me I missed all the fun," Roman teased.

"All you missed was me saving the day," Demyx answered.

Roman was silent a moment before asking, "No, seriously, what happened while I was out?"

"It was actually I, Zevon, who secured our victoriosity!" Zevon proclaimed, placing a hand on his chest. "You're all welcome."

"That makes…slightly more sense?" Roman relented.

"You did good," Wuya said with a nod toward Zevon.

"What about me?" Demyx griped. "That plan would NOT have worked without me!"

"That is true," Yzma agreed. "Congratulations, Demyx."

"Looks like you can be a team player after all," Hans observed.

By then, Irmaplotz had come back to consciousness. She walked drowsily over to the group, pressing a hand to her forehead. "Ow," she complained. Noticing her glasses missing, she conjured another pair out of thin air, resting them in place.

"Welcome back to the show, Four-Eyes," Roman greeted.

"I'll be willing to give Demyx his share of credit," Mozenrath decided, "if he can fix me."

"What?" Demyx sputtered. "How am I supposed to do that?"

"It occurred to me as we were journeying here," Mozenrath informed him. "We don't have the Spirit Waters, but we do have plenty of run-of-the-mill water. The kind of water that waterbenders can use to heal. Do I have to spell this out for you?"

"Riiiiiight," Demyx realized. "So if I fix you, you'll admit I'm actually a valuable associate."

"I can already see where this is going," Mozenrath sighed. "You won't make a move until I promise you that much."

"You're smart."

"I'll say it right now," Mozenrath relented. "Demyx, you are a valuable associate when you actually want to be – "

"Ah, ah, ah!" Demyx stopped him. "No 'whens' or 'ifs.' Just say it."

"You're a valuable associate," Mozenrath said plainly, "and without you, we would probably all be dead right now. Now START HEALING."

"On it!"

It only took Demyx a few minutes to restore Mozenrath's legs to working order and repair the blow his head had taken. Still, Demyx remarked that "Wow, I'm out of practice. I really hope you don't need much more of this."

Mozenrath stood, brushing himself off. He cast his gaze at his surroundings. "Wuya," he asked, "how much longer can you hold down that spirit?"

"Long enough for the rest of you to scavenge the village," she assured him.

"It's just that with all of the inhabitants currently unable to possess physical forms, much less stop us," Mozenrath explained to the others, "that leaves everything here ripe for the taking." What he didn't say was that given the difficulty of this battle, he wanted to amass as many useful tools as he could in preparation for the next one. Everyone inferred his point anyway.

"All right, team!" Zevon commanded. "DISPERSIONATE!"

"DISPERSE!" Irmaplotz corrected.

"THAT, TOO!" Zevon added.

As Wuya returned to the spring to hold down her spell, the others broke up to search Kakariko Village for items of importance.


	59. Functionally Evil

51\. Functionally Evil

As Irmaplotz, Zevon, Hans, and Demyx filtered throughout Kakariko Village and Wuya kept her eyes fixed on the enormous pot lid holding down Eldin, Mozenrath, Roman, and Yzma took a step into the spring's shallows to observe the memento McLeach had left behind.

Mozenrath levitated the crossbow into his hands, turning it to give it a look-over. "This looks like pretty standard-issue Huntsclan technology," he remarked. "A certain Huntsman wouldn't be happy about Maleficent's cronies wielding this. A good friend would bring it back to him."

After sharing a look with Yzma and Roman, Mozenrath simply dropped the crossbow on the ground. Without needing to confirm what to do, the trio stomped on the weapon in unison, breaking it thoroughly. They then turned away with a laugh, abandoning the fragments of the busted weapon.

"Yzma," Wuya snapped. "Get over here."

Yzma veered back in Wuya's direction with a roll of the eyes. "Go on without me," she bade Mozenrath and Roman, who did just that. She sidled up next to Wuya, sighing, "Is this about the fish thing?"

"No," Wuya answered sharply. "I need you to distract me."

"You need me to do what?"

"Distract me," Wuya reiterated. "Holding this lid down is hard work."

"Wouldn't that mean I SHOULDN'T distract you?"

"If I focus too hard on it, all I'll be able to think about is the physical and magical strain," Wuya explained. "If I had a yuan for every time I ran into the downsides of actually having a physical body…anyway, if you talk to me and keep me distracted, I can focus just enough on holding this spell in place and not on how aggravating it is to do so."

Yzma shrugged. "All right. So what do you want me to talk about?"

"Describe your ideal romantic partner," Wuya commanded.

"Wh-wh-WHAT?" Yzma choked.

"It's an easy conversation topic I'm sure will keep us going for some time!" Wuya defended. "Now hurry up and describe someone attractive!"

"Well…you see…" Yzma thought it over. "Now, really, that depends. Are we talking about a man or a woman? Either is viable, but both are measured by vastly different criteria."

"Either/or. Describe them both."

"Well," Yzma mused, "I prefer a man with a good amount of muscle. Great hair, too. Intelligence is where it becomes trickier. Too dumb, and he'll frustrate me too much to be attractive. That's why you don't see me trying to pursue Snipe. And you never will. Too smart, and he won't take orders from me, which is a necessary part of this arrangement. He has to be only mildly intelligent. Now, with a woman, I'm less picky on the brains front. She can be smarter. I still won't go for an idiot, though."

"So you wouldn't feel the need to boss a woman around," Wuya deduced. "Any reason for that?"

"I suppose one could apply arguments of feminist theory and history of patriarchal oppression," Yzma answered, "but when you get right down to it, I don't mind when a female partner talks back to me, but a man has to shut up and listen to me! It's just my thing!" A pause. "I suppose you want to know my physical type for women now."

"Preferably."

"Well," Yzma went on, "I have always preferred women with more of an hourglass shape. Long, luscious hair. You have to look at them and see the word 'glamorous.' No, really, I once invited a woman to a one-night stand because I saw her standing under a street sign that had the word 'glamorous' on it."

"Why was there a street sign that said 'glamorous'?"

Yzma shrugged. "I came from an empire with bizarre city structure. All right, I did mine, so now you have to tell me yours."

"Hmm." Wuya thought it over. "Muscular is good. If I can find it, I prefer men of a more…monstrous nature. Scales, fangs, wings, it's all a bonus. Even beans under the right circumstances. They have to be somewhat rugged. Yes, a burly man with sharp teeth and claws! Of course, like I said, it's just a bonus. On the other hand, I lean more toward humans in women. And they have to be as effeminate as they come. Lean, as well!" She quickly reined in a droplet of saliva that threatened to escape her mouth at the thought.

"So you like skinny, effeminate women," Yzma realized.

"Isn't that what I just said?" Wuya retorted.

"Your type is me and my type is you," Yzma stated dryly.

"Oh," Wuya realized. "Well, this just got awkward."

There was silence for a moment before Yzma said, "It's not that I've ever thought about YOU – "

"No, no," Wuya broke in, "I haven't seen you that way either. Not once. No. Definitely not."

More silence. Then:

"Wait a minute!" Yzma snapped. "Why NOT? Am I not GOOD ENOUGH for you?"

"I never said that!" Wuya retorted sharply. "I'm just not interested in prematurely ending a mutually beneficial partnerhip over that sort of feeling! On the other side of the coin, I know you either feel the same way or are just having a lapse in judgment, because I KNOW I'm good enough for you."

"Of COURSE you're good enough for me!" Yzma insisted. "I'm just trying not to make this awkward!"

"Well, maybe it shouldn't BE awkward!" Wuya hissed.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?" Yzma screamed. "DO YOU WANT ME TO BE ATTRACTED TO YOU OR NOT?"

"JUST KISS ALREADY!" Zevon, Irmaplotz, and Demyx chorused.

Wuya fired a glare over her shoulder at them, snapping, "This is none of your business! Beat it!"

The trio split and scattered.

"Well?" Yzma reiterated. "I'm waiting on an answer!"

"Who doesn't want to be attractive to someone else?" Wuya told her. "By that token, I obviously want you to be attracted to me!"

"Well, then, yes, I've thought about it a few times," Yzma admitted. "But you were never…to me, I mean…"

Wuya could sense the hesitation in Yzma's tone. "I may have thought about it myself," she confessed. "About you, I mean."

"And…have you wanted to…do anything about it?"

"Have YOU?"

"I asked you first!" Yzma insisted.

"In the interest of preserving our mutually beneficial partnership, no," Wuya answered. "Mozenrath and the Huntsman tried that, and look what idiots it made out of both of them!"

"On the other hand, there are Roman and Mr. Snatcher to consider," Yzma brought up. "And Mim and Ayam Aghoul. Their, ah, mutually beneficial partnerships seem to be working out just fine."

"So they are," Wuya said with a nod. "Well, if I change my mind, you'll be the first to know."

"Good," Yzma asserted. "Because if you do change your mind, I'll be ready to – "

Wuya gave Yzma a direct look, brows raised.

"…Hear you out," Yzma finished, substituting her hasty answer for the way she had originally been about to end that sentence. "Maybe we should talk about something else."

"All right," Wuya agreed, sensing Yzma's discomfort with the current topic. "Name every magic power you'd want to have and what you'd do with it."

"Youth regeneration," Yzma said immediately. "For obvious reasons. The ability to time travel so I could stop the crazy straw from ever being invented. And the ability to transfigure people into animals WITHOUT using potions."

"Ah, yes!" Wuya commented. "Very good choices – wait, what was that middle one again?"

In the meantime, Roman had found a very promising building with sides made of sheet metal. Suspecting it to bear fruit, he entered, cursing the darkness that took over with the onset of Twilight over a room with thick walls. He was unable to make out more than silhouettes in the shadows. As he retrieved his cigarette lighter and produced a small flame from it, he was aware of the door behind him opening and closing once more.

"Find anything good?" Hans asked.

"I just have a good feeling about this one," Roman explained as he stepped behind the sales counter, waving the lighter. "Let's see here…what were you selling…?"

The glow from the lighter gave him just enough vision to realize what lined the shelves in the back of the sales floor. "Holy SHIT!" he cried. "Jaaaaackpot!"

"What?" Hans asked.

"Bombs," Roman explained. "Loads and loads of bombs. Oh, I am SO taking these for later. Now, let's get a closer look – "

As he brought the lighter flame nearer to the shelf, Hans practically tackled him en route to blowing said flame out.

"You really are an idiot," Hans said in a breathless tone, the sort that comes about when you believe you were moments away from being blown to smithereens by a shop's entire stock of explosives. "You find bombs, so you just bring a FIRE up close to them?"

"I needed a closer look," Roman said indignantly. "I would've kept it far away enough to not light up the fuses. I know what I'm fucking doing, Sideburns. Explosives and fire are how I make a living." He gave a drawn-out sigh before remarking, "Whatever. I know they're here" and feeling out the shop's wares so he could load as many bombs as he could carry into his arms.

"You know," Hans commented, "it's really interesting. I don't know what kind of bias Mozenrath has toward you, but it's really showing."

"Something tells me I shouldn't bite at this bait," Roman said in suspicion, "but I'm going to anyway. What makes you think Righty has a bias toward me? Besides the obvious fact that I'm one of his best friends."

"Well," Hans went on, "it's just that Demyx has actual useful powers that have helped us out of tight spots, but Mozenrath doesn't have a good word to say about him. Meanwhile, all you've done since I've met you is get trampled by the spirits of Darkness and need us to bail you out, but apparently you 'pull your weight' just fine around here."  
"I do not just end up being the damsel in distress – "

"Really? Because first, you got wrapped up by Lanayru and broke your leg on the way out."

"Dishwater was there too – "

"And just now," Hans continued, "you got knocked out in one shot by Eldin and may have been legally dead before Mozenrath brought you back."

"SO DID YOU AND SO WERE YOU!" Roman yelled in frustration.

"Hey, I'm new around here," Hans defended. "I never said I was good at anything but diplomacy and acting. Nobody expects me to be more useful than Demyx. But you have a standard to uphold, and, truth be told, I'm pretty sure you're the most useless person I've observed on this entire team besides me."

"Are we roasting Roman?" That comment came from Demyx, who had also found the metal-walled building of interest and entered the area to check it out. "Because I'm up for that."

"I'm just pointing out how bizarre it is that you take such a verbal beating all the time," Hans recapitulated, "when it's really Roman who keeps setting our team back and being unable to contribute anything besides breaking his own limbs."

"Shut the FUCK up," Roman growled.

"Yeah," Demyx realized, "that is pretty weird! I do way more than that guy!"

"Stop saying 'that guy' like I'm not in the room," Roman snarled.

"Okay," Demyx corrected, "I'll say it to your face: I do way more for this team than you, and I don't get why you get more of the respect."

"Bold words," Roman commented, almost at his breaking point, "to say to someone who's holding enough TNT to blow you out of the atmosphere."

"And you realize if you detonate it now, you'd just kill yourself first," Hans pointed out.

"That's it," Roman said through clenched teeth, realizing that if he didn't leave the situation immediately, he would have to explain grievous injuries sustained by Hans and Demyx to Mozenrath, and given the way Mozenrath had been looking at Hans, that didn't seem like the sort of conversation one could have with Mozenrath without suffering some consequences oneself. "I'm outta here. I don't have to take this from you losers."

Stockpile of bombs in hand, he edged out from behind the counter and made his way to the door. Before he could get there, Hans stealthily slipped a foot in his path. Roman stumbled, the bombs spilling forth and rolling across the floor as Roman himself hit the wood.

"Oops," Hans said cheekily as Demyx cackled. "It was an accident, I swear."

Roman wordlessly maneuvered into a sitting position to recollect all of the bombs.

The party reconvened in total around Wuya and Yzma. The pot lid was shaking harder than ever before as Eldin struggled beneath it. "Are we ready to go?" Wuya asked.

There were murmurs of assent; Roman seemed to be the only one who had found anything worth salvaging.

"And does anyone need to make a restroom break before we leave?" Wuya continued. "Because if you do, too bad for you. Eldin is about to break free."

"Shall I return us to the path just outside the village?" Mozenrath asked.

"Farther back," Wuya commanded him, "just to be safe."

A Corridor was cast, and the eight filed into it. Once the portal closed behind them, the lid shattered into countless metal fragments, and Eldin rocketed into the sky only to be met with a town bereft of masters or victims.

...

The moment the ship bearing Lilo, Jumba, and Pleakley touched ground at the edge of town in Radiant Garden, Lilo tore out the door, screaming, "LET'S GO, LET'S GO, LET'S GO!" Her chaperones were left precious little time to affix accessories that would allow them to better blend in among humans. Once suited up, they trailed Lilo into the city limits.

"Is anyone else still worried that this is a trap?" Pleakley brought up as he tried his best to keep up with Lilo. "Because I'm still worried this is a trap!"

"Is nothing we cannot handle," Jumba reassured him. "What is worst that could happen? Outpost of renegade Hämsterviel minions craving revenge?"

"YES!" Pleakley confirmed. "THAT IS EXACTLY THE WORST THAT COULD HAPPEN!"

"Would be challenge to escape with lives of ourselves and Stitch," Jumba mused. "Actually sounds like rather good time!"

"A GOOD TIME!"

"We have handled many bad things before, no?" Jumba recalled. "Will absolutely be able to navigate this."

Five figures awaited in the distance, gathered in the street. When he saw who was coming, the smallest and bluest of those figures detached from the group, charging his incoming family. "LILO!" Stitch cried.

"STIIIIIITCH!" Lilo yelled back.

Stitch and Lilo collided, wrapping each other in a tight embrace. "I was starting to get worried I'd never see you again," Lilo admitted, voice shaking.

"No worries," Stitch told her. "We together."

Jumba and Pleakley caught up, halting to lean against a nearby wall and catch their breaths while Stitch's companions – Moana, Nora, Yuffie, and Sadira – approached at a reasonable pace. "You made it!" Sadira proclaimed joyously.

Pleakley was the first to regain his bearings. He assumed he appeared to this quartet as a human woman, much like themselves, owing to his particular style of Earth dress and the wig and makeup he donned as much for his own sense of identity as for passing unnoticed among humans. Likewise, he was certain that they looked at Jumba, saw the sunglasses covering his fourfold eyes and the false mustache attached to his nose, and perceived a completely human man. It had to be working, Pleakley thought, or else these four would have run off screaming by now, either in fear or to tattle to the authorities. "Thank you," he said sincerely, "for taking care of Stitch and helping him get back to us."

"It was no big deal!" Yuffie said with a smile.

"We were just lucky your ship was passing by so close," Nora added.

"You hear that?" Lilo said in shock. "We might've passed right by and NEVER found you!"

"But didn't happen!" Stitch assured her. "Thanks to new friends!"

"New friends?" Jumba said with curiosity. "And just who are new friends?"

"Well, that's complicated," Yuffie answered. "I'm from the Radiant Garden Restoration Committee, which is working to put this town back in order after all the Darkness. My friends here all live in the same castle as I do – "

"A CASTLE?" Lilo repeated, eyes lighting up.

"Sure is!" Yuffie confirmed, leaning down to wink at Lilo. "Anyway, they're sort of part of the Committee, but sort of not. We're kind of all part of something bigger right now. They're all heroes who came here to help fight evil that's been showing up on a lot of different worlds, and the Committee is joining in, too."

"We're all from different worlds," Moana clarified.

"Different worlds?" Pleakley repeated. "Fascinating! I didn't know there was that much inter-world interaction!"

"There usually isn't," Yuffie clarified. "We all got brought here by some kinda special cases."

"Is intriguing story to be sure," Jumba broke in, "but I was moreso looking to be putting names to faces."

"Oh, right!" Yuffie replied. Straightening up and posing with her hands balled up at her sides and elbows outward, she proclaimed, "I'm the great ninja Yuffie!"

"YOU'RE A NINJA?" Lilo reiterated in awe. "And you live in a CASTLE? Cooooool!"

"I'm not even the coolest person there!" Yuffie told her. "That's Nora, and she's a super strong warrior who battles monsters and can get hit by lightning without even flinching! Then there's Moana, who's in training to become chief of an entire village and sailed across her world with a demigod to help save a goddess! And Sadira is a witch who controls sand, and saved her home kingdom from all kinds of disasters!"

"Let's be clear," Sadira admitted sheepishly. "I kind of caused at least half those disasters."

"What about you?" Yuffie asked. "Are you all from the same world? No offense, but it looks pretty obviously like you originally weren't."

"Obviously?" Pleakley began to sweat. "What do you mean…what looks obvious?"

"Well, you know," Yuffie said, "Lilo's human, but Stitch is obviously something else, and one of you has only one eye, and the other has four – "

"YUFFIE!" Moana elbowed Yuffie in the side. "You can't just go pointing that out!"

"ONE EYE?" Pleakley was thrown into a sudden panic. "N-nobody here has just one eye! Nobody here has four! I don't know what you're…you're seeing things. Seeing things! There's no need to tell the authorities ANYTHING! We're human!"

"Am not so sure that matters anymore," Jumba said tentatively.

"It really doesn't," Nora said with a shake of her head. "We have met a LOT of people who aren't human. It's no big deal."

"I'm guessing it's a big deal where you come from," Sadira observed.

"Are you kidding?" Pleakley replied. "Our very existence would throw the entire planet into mass panic! But you're the first humans who haven't been fooled by our ingenious disguises!"

"Those are ingenious?" Nora said doubtfully.

"Allow me to explain," Jumba took over. "See, I am having theory. People of Earth, which is to be saying OUR Earth, have expectations and assumptions about what is normal and what is not. They expect to see normal, and so they see normal. Want to see humans, so look at us and see pair of humans. Brains are not wired to accept out of blue existence of intelligent beings with different physical makeup from Earth biological forms. But! Here in THIS town, at least with these specific people, they are USED to all manner of lifeforms! Have seen and understood beings other than humans that communicate with humans! That opens mind to perceive more of truth of what is right in front of eyes!"

"I…guess that makes sense," Pleakley admitted. "So…you're not going to have us turned over to a government research facility?"

"What?" Sadira replied. "No! We just want to help you get your family back together!"

"And this isn't a trap," Pleakley confirmed.

"Am I the only one listening to her and thinking 'Stork' right now?" Nora commented.

"I don't see what birds have to do with any of this!" Pleakley huffed.

"Anyway," Nora went on, "we DO have some questions for you. You know about us, but who are YOU?"

"Who are we?" Pleakley repeated. "I'm afraid that is classified information! Strictly need-to-know! The only way you'll get our names out of us is – "

"I'm Lilo Pelekai," Lilo said as she extended her right hand. "Special agent of the Galactic Council. Stitch and I are primary operatives in evil experiment capture and rehabilitation." After a thought, she added, "That means we turn bad experiments good."

Nora knelt down and shook Lilo's hand. "Nice to meet ya, kid!"

"Oh, all right," Pleakley sighed. "I suppose it's not going to do any harm at this point. I'm Lilo's Aunt Pleakley. Associate in experiment rehabilitation, whether I want to be or NOT, and a pretty excellent cook, if I do say so myself!"

"Excellent cook," Jumba added, "if you have taste for dog food."

"Some people do!" Sadira said quickly, wanting to be polite. "It's just a matter of opinion."

"And I?" Jumba introduced, stripping away his sunglasses and false mustache. "Am Jumba Jookiba, incredibly infamous evil genius."

"EVIL?" Nora, Sadira, Yuffie, and Moana said in shock and unison, all taking a step back and wondering if they had been the ones to be lured into a trap.

"He's not functionally evil!" Lilo said hurriedly. "It's more like a formal title."

Sadira was the first to step forward. "Actually, I can relate to that one," she admitted.

"Of COURSE am evil!" Jumba said defensively. "Am absolutely, incredibly vile! Am creator of over six hundred and twenty-six biological experiments capable of spreading chaos and destruction in various forms! Am engineer of devastating weapons capable of laying entire planets to waste! Am feared master hacker and codebreaker, with ability to shut down network infrastructure of metropolitan technological hubs! Am – "

"Wait, wait, wait," Yuffie interrupted. "Did you say hacker? And codebreaker?"

"Of course!" Jumba confirmed.

"Like the kind of person who can figure out lost passwords from a peripheral computer to where the password needs to be implemented?" Yuffie went on.

"So long as peripheral computer is connected to original, then yes," Jumba confirmed. "This is incredibly specific situation. Is there reason for that?"

"Well," Yuffie admitted, "back at the castle, we're kind of in need of someone who can do that. We're trying to shut down a pretty tough program, but it's locked behind a password we don't know. And as long as it stays up, our friends are in trouble."

"Sounds like playing of children!" Jumba proclaimed.

"So you'll help us?" Nora said hopefully.

"WHAAAT?" Jumba bristled. "Never said ANYTHING about that! Were you listening? I said I use skill for EVIL! Not to be helping of people!"

"But we seriously can't figure it out with any of the people we have around now," Yuffie pleaded.

"Can't we help them?" Lilo asked, turning a plaintive face up at Jumba. "Please? Pleeeeeease? It would be the right thing to do!"

"New friends help Stitch," Stitch added. "Now Stitch want help new friends!"

"I'm still not sure I trust the situation," Pleakley admitted, "but if they really do need our help, we shouldn't just turn our backs and walk away."

"Hmm," Jumba replied, taking his family's suggestions into account. "Well…am supposing it would be stimulating challenge. And am in debt of Committee and friends as of the return of Stitch." He then gave a shrug and a smile. "Lead me to problem computer. Will have issue resolved in no time."

"GREAT!" Yuffie cried. "Come on, let's go, let's go!"

She turned and nearly bolted toward the castle, but Nora put an arm in front of her. "We might wanna go slow enough for everyone to keep up this time," she suggested with a grin.

Nora, Yuffie, Sadira, Moana, Lilo, Stitch, Jumba, and Pleakley set off at a brisk walk toward the castle. "So," Moana asked, "what IS your world like?"

"Well," Lilo explained, "the reason we all look so different is because we're all from different planets, but the way the Grand Councilwoman explained it, it's still technically the same 'world.' We all live together on Earth, though. In Hawaii. It's a tropical island."

"I come from an island, too!" Moana said excitedly. "Tell me all about yours!"

"Well, it has a lot of tourists…"

Lilo went into the details of Hawaiian life, livening up the walk back to the castle.

...

Why Ravess felt compelled to enter Vexen's laboratory, she wasn't entirely sure. Were she a more immature type, she might attempt to upset his workstation as revenge for the way he had been treating her as of late. As it were, she found herself above such childish gambits. Instead, she stared blankly at the counter where his notes and equipment lay, seeking some sort of answer to a question she didn't even know.

Heaving a sigh, she turned to leave, knowing whatever she sought, she wouldn't find it here. Upon completing her about-face, she found herself staring directly at an all-too-familiar figure.

Ravess cried out, backing up against the table. "You…how did you…WHY are you here?" she sputtered in a panic.

Master Cyclonis gave her a wicked, lopsided smile in response. "You know, your friends put up a good fight," she stated, giving her staff an idle twirl.

Ravess forced her breathing to become more even, expecting her heart rate to slow as a result. "I hope you don't think I'm afraid of you," she said haughtily.

"Then I guess you'll just have to be disappointed," Cyclonis scoffed. The staff came to rest in both of her hands, aimed directly at Ravess; an angry red crystal gleamed at the business end. "I think we both know you fear me."

"You are a CHILD!" Ravess snapped. "You cannot harm me!"

"Oh?" Cyclonis raised an eyebrow. "Are you armed?"

Ravess' bare hands gripped the edge of the table behind her.

"Do you have any sort of defense?" Cyclonis went on.

Ravess made to dart to the right, but Cyclonis was faster, blocking Ravess' path with the staff. Ravess attempted to shoot to the left; the staff, once again, landed in her way. Cyclonis used the staff to gently nudge Ravess back to a centered position before her. "I've got you right where I want you," Cyclonis said smugly. "I may be a child, but I have the upper hand. And you're going to pay for deserting me."

"Is that what this is all about?" Ravess asked, trying so hard to sound irked despite the panic seeping through her. "YOU were the one who banished ME!"

"And I see now that wasn't enough," Cyclonis remarked. "I should've eliminated you on the spot. Banishment was too good for you."

"Surely we can work something out!" Ravess argued, her discomfort in plain view. No, she didn't intend to betray the WHAM ARMY, but if it spared her life, she could spin a little charade for Cyclonis, pretend to be loyal once more until she could get the upper hand again.

"You think you can talk me into letting you back into my good graces," Cyclonis stated. "You think I'll give in and let you have the chance to overtake me when my back is turned."

"No! That wasn't – I wasn't!"

"I think I've heard enough of your voice," Cyclonis hissed.

That was when the rollercoaster cart landed in the entryway of the lab. "HEY!" Snipe barked as soon as his feet found the floor and his eyes beheld the scene before him. "What are YOU doing he – "

Cyclonis didn't let him finish. She whirled on him, firing a beam from her staff's crystal. It burned right through his chest, leaving a hole Ravess could see through where once his heart had beat. Snipe's dead body toppled to the floor.

Ravess' instincts took over; while Cyclonis' back was still turned, Ravess bolted across the laboratory, sure that if she could dive behind Yzma's table, she could buy time –

The crystal's next target was her leg, completely severing her knee from her thigh. With only one foot to stand on, Ravess collapsed, desperately crawling as Cyclonis advanced upon her.

A Corridor of Darkness opened wide behind Cyclonis, and a voice, at once a relief and a new source of fear for Ravess, bellowed, "WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?"

"NO!" Ravess screamed. "GET BACK! GET AWAY!"

Vexen strode confidently through the Corridor, glaring daggers at Cyclonis. "I do not recall giving you express permission to be here," he barked as the portal shut behind him.

"No," Ravess repeated, shaking her head at Vexen. "No, no, no – "

"I don't recall giving you permission to speak," Cyclonis snarled. The staff whirled. A bright red beam slashed diagonally across Vexen's upper body.

His corpse hit the ground in stages – one half before the other, creating a dual thud.

"NO!" Ravess screamed.

She curled into a tight ball, hugging her whole leg and what remained of her half-leg into her chest. There was no more fighting. All she could do was wait for the inevitable.

Cyclonis forwent using the crystal's energy this time. She instead gripped the staff at the center, hoisting it upward so that its point aimed directly downward at Ravess. And the moment she brought it down –

...

Ravess woke up screaming in her bed.

It took some time for her to process what had just happened. "A…dream?" she muttered to herself. "It was…a dream?"

Cyclonis was far away. Snipe hadn't been shot. Vexen hadn't been cleaved.

All the same, Ravess was gripped by uncertainty. Her feet – of which she still had two, thankfully – hit the floor, and she scrambled out of her bedroom, out of her entire apartment.

She had to check up on some things.

...

Now it was the band of heroes that stood in a conference circle some distance away from Kakariko Village, pondering their plan of attack.

"We need to do a little more than improvise this time," Stork pointed out. "We need to do something that won't get half of us incapacitated and nearly KILLED, followed by Midna burning herself on the recovered Light spirit."

"It won't be possible to come up with a perfect plan without knowing who Maleficent stationed to wait for us," Jasmine reminded him. "We'll just have to try our best with what knowledge we have."

"Unless there isn't someone stationed to wait for us," Katara brought up. "There wasn't last time. Maybe the whole thing was just to mislead us."

"Or maybe the last one wasn't there to make us think the next one won't be there," Stork countered.

"But if there isn't anyone there," Sora realized, "then we know exactly what we're dealing with! I say we make a plan assuming there isn't, and we fix it if it turns out there is!"

"That is a BAD IDEA," Stork hissed. "You want to leave an entire factor out of the plan, then try to cover it ON THE FLY if it turns out you were wrong?"

"It's the same as doing an entire plan on the fly based on the assumption that there is someone waiting," Midna sighed. "Why don't we just try it his way?"

"HEAR HIM OUT!" Ruby chanted. "HEAR HIM OUT!"

Riku smiled softly. "I would leave it to Sora to come up with the plan that will work," he stated.

"What kind of Light spirit – uh, Darkness spirit – are we dealing with next?" Sora asked. "Are they all snakes?"

"Eldin will be more difficult to capture," Zelda revealed. "He takes the form of an eagle, capable of reaching great heights."

"Well, Lanayru flew too," Katara recalled. "We just need to figure out how to get to Eldin's level."

"IT SOUNDS LIKE WE NEED MORE STAIRCASES, COURTESY OF YOURS TRULY!" Papyrus decided. "THEN WE CAN DESCEND IN AN AERIAL ASSAULT!"

"That's a lot of stairs," Katara pointed out. "Can you make that many?"

"WELL…I ADMIT THIS WOULD BE MY FIRST TIME TRYING," Papyrus replied. "WHICH MEANS IT'S THE PERFECT TIME TO FIND OUT!"

"I don't know about this," Riku broke in. "That would do more than just put a strain on Papyrus. There would be no way to create that many stairways without Eldin seeing us all coming. And if we couldn't catch up to him in the air, he could get away, and we'd have to reposition again."

"The obvious solution here is to have a way to actually fly the sword to Eldin," Stork pointed out. "That being said, unless we backtrack all the way to Castle Town to pick up our ship, we have no way of doing that."

"So here's an idea," Aladdin suggested. "We bring Eldin down to us."

"How do we do that?" Ruby asked quizzically.

"That depends," Aladdin replied. "Hey, Link. How's your acting skill?"

"I…don't know," Link admitted. "I've never really tried acting before. Do we need to put on some kind of charade?"

"That's exactly what we'll be doing," Aladdin confirmed, "if everyone agrees on this plan. Don't worry. It'll just be a simple part. All you have to do is…"

As he explained, Link nodded in understanding. "I'll try," he said with uncertainty once Aladdin was finished speaking, "but I'm not sure I could make it as convincing as you want."

"I could," Jasmine volunteered. "If you don't want to do it – "

"I'll let you handle it, then," Link told her. "You'll just have to have this." He passed her the Master Sword.

"This is still a REALLY bad idea," Stork whimpered. "Sending her in ALONE? What if there IS someone waiting this time? What if she can't handle Eldin? What if – "

"What if she wasn't alone?" Aladdin countered. "Eldin just has to THINK she is."

"And we sneak somebody else onto the battlefield!" Sora cried. "Do you think all of us could make it without getting noticed by Eldin?"

"I doubt it," Link sighed. "Eldin sees far and wide."

"So we hide outside the village," Ruby offered, "and whoever we send in to watch over the plan sends up some kind of signal to the rest of us to let us know if it's all clear or Jasmine needs more help."

"A SIGNAL LIKE THIS?" Papyrus asked; the words "PLEASE HELP!" appeared written in bone in midair at his behest.

"Yeah!" Ruby cried. "Exactly like that!"

"There's just one problem," Stork grunted. "You don't sneak."

"I DO TOO SNEAK!" Papyrus said indignantly, hands on hipbones.

"A toy monkey that bangs cymbals constantly makes less noise than you do," Stork went on.

"HEY!"

"Are you saying you could do better?" Midna provoked.

"At sneaking, yes," Stork told her, "but as far as signaling, I'm fresh out of anything that could work as a flare. Let alone multiple flares to communicate 'all clear' versus 'we're doomed.'"

"WELL, IF YOU'RE SO SNEAKY AND I'M NOT," Papyrus challenged, "THEN WHY DON'T YOU COME WITH ME AND POINT OUT EVERY LITTLE MISTAKE I MAKE? HMMM?" It then struck him: "THOUGH…THAT ACTUALLY MIGHT BE A WAY TO PROCEED, IF I REALLY DO MAKE THAT MUCH NOISE…WHICH I'M SURE I DON'T, BUT JUST TO BE ON THE SAFE SIDE…"

"Me, go with you and stop you from blowing your cover?" Stork reiterated. "I could do that. And that way, you'd be able to put up the signal. We'd need a back route into town, of course."

"Which I know," Link informed the group. He backed away to begin drawing in the dust on the ground, which was beginning to turn over to Kakariko's desert climate now that they were in the village's proximity. "All we have to do is send you in here…and the rest of us will wait HERE…"

"AND WE HAVE A PLAN!" Ruby screeched. "NICE JOB, TEAM! NOW, ALL IN!" She put out her hand, palm down.

Sora and Papyrus immediately stacked their hands on top of hers. Riku and Stork added theirs a little more reluctantly. The rest stared in confusion.

"You know," Ruby said softly, "this is the part where everyone puts their hand on, and then we all throw our hands up in the air and yell something like 'Go team' or 'We got this'…no?...Just us?...Okay." The hands went up halfheartedly, as Ruby said "Go team" in a rather deflated tone.

"I think you'll have to teach us some of these gestures in more detail sometime," Katara suggested.

"We still haven't figured out what we're going to do WHEN we run into Maleficent's henchperson," Stork pointed out.

"That's the part we just can't plan for," Aladdin sighed.

"At least this way," Jasmine observed, "even if I end up in over my head, Stork and Papyrus can join in after giving the signal, and we'll be able to hold out until everyone else can catch up."

"ABSOLUTELY!" Papyrus agreed.

Link backed away from his drawing. "And that's the route you'll need to take," he established.

"Let's try that hand thing again," Katara said with vigor.

"Okay," Ruby explained. "So first, everyone puts out their hand like this…"

Ruby had to talk the group through the gesture, but once everyone had thrown up a hand and yelled "GO TEAM!", they realized they felt a lot better about the upcoming situation.

...

Eldin made slow circles over the village, ready to unleash his wrath upon any and all who still lived among the wash of Twilight that had overtaken the land. The woman approaching from the main road looked like nothing short of an opportunity. He gave a warning screech; she didn't flinch.

As soon as she neared the edge of the spring where Eldin had the most room to land, he dove, the wind whistling as he fixated upon his target.

Jasmine tilted her head up, getting a full view of the enormous bird. Not panicking under such circumstances was difficult, but manageable all the same. The scream she let out was false.

She collapsed before Eldin could reach her.

Eldin was struck by confusion; he knew he hadn't yet touched her. Giving a screech of curiosity, he hovered over her, leaning his head downward to poke gently at her prone body. He needed to investigate this; he was sure he'd done no damage, but if a victim was going to be giftwrapped for him, he had to make sure this person was truly defenseless. Then he would finish the job, provided she was alive enough to be finished.

From their vantage point atop a nearby house, Stork and Papyrus watched the scene unfold, their breathing shallow. Something was going to go wrong, Stork knew, and he and Papyrus would need to intervene –

Eldin's beak nudged Jasmine's side.

The spirit hadn't noticed the sword she carried at her waist until the flat of it was pressed against his face.

Once the light started spreading, Eldin was powerless to stop it. He jerked away from the blade, but already, his Darkness was changing in complexion, becoming bright. He backed up into the air, hovering gently over Jasmine, observing his own thoughts turn from destructive into concerned.

A shaft of light broke through the sky, and all around, the dusk faded into bright blue, illuminating Kakariko Village. Blue lights that bobbed in the byways were reconstructed into human beings, who confusedly took in their restored surroundings before locating their nearest loved ones so they could rejoice.

Jasmine sat up, a grin upon her face. "I knew we could save you without going through all that complicated battle," she proclaimed.

Papyrus stood, throwing the words "ALL CLEAR!" into the air for the others to see. He then joined Stork in making way down from the roof.

"That blade," Eldin said. "Where did you acquire it?" His tone was as deliberate as Lanayru's.

"From a friend," Jasmine explained as she stood. The last of the shadows washed away from the basin of Kakariko Village as Stork and Papyrus slid to her sides. "I think you know him."

"I can think of one who wields such a blade," Eldin agreed. "You are his ally?"

"We all are," Jasmine confirmed.

"I can sense that Twilight has spread over much of the land," Eldin observed, "yet the Lanayru province is bathed in light, as it should by day. This was not your first stop."

"We saved Lanayru just before coming to find you," Jasmine confirmed.

"Then you already know of the threat this land faces," Eldin said somberly.

By then, the rest of the group had entered the village by the main road. "It worked!" Sora cried. "You did it!"

Link and Zelda knelt before Eldin. "We are glad to see you have been restored," Zelda stated.

"I knew it was you who were responsible," Eldin stated. "I trust you already know of the dangers that lie ahead of you if you plan to restore Faron and Ordon."

"We're ready," Midna commented from behind the bowing pair.

"Then go with my blessing," Eldin said. "When the time comes, I shall lend whatever aid I can to oust the last of the corruption from this land."

"Thank you," Link said gratefully.

Sensing Eldin was about to depart, Sora cried out, "Hey, wait! Before you go!"

"What is it, young hero?" the Light spirit questioned.

"Was there somebody else here?" Sora asked. "Someone who was supposed to slow us down and make sure we didn't do what we just did?"

"There was," Eldin confirmed. "He acted as my master, directing me. I could not tell exactly what happened in all of the chaos, but I do know there was another party that arrived here before you did and ousted him from this spring."

"Another party?" Sora repeated. "Somebody else who made it through the Twilight?"

"Well, Riku did too," Midna pointed out. "It's not that far-fetched."

"I only recognized two of them," Eldin stated. "One was a visitor to this land long, long ago, in days far past. I no longer know what she seeks, as she was not in her usual company, and I was subdued by her before I could learn what she wanted. The other, Princess Zelda, was your fiancée."

"HANS?" Zelda gasped suddenly. "Was he all right? Was he acting of his own free will?"

"He was not acting under anyone's control but his own," Eldin assured her.

"He is alive," Zelda said softly, heart beating rapidly. "He is fighting the guardians Maleficent has posted."

"But why didn't he do anything to save the spirits?" Ruby asked.

"He couldn't, remember?" Midna brought up. "We're the only ones with the magic sword. And he'd know better than to KILL the Light spirits, even if they are corrupted."

"Do you know which way he has gone?" Zelda asked.

"I do not," Eldin responded. "However, given what we know, he has likely moved on to the spirits who remain corrupted."

"Then we must follow," Zelda insisted. "We must continue to Faron Woods."

"So now it's a quest to meet back up with lover boy!" Midna teased.

"At least we have a plan that we know works now," Link pointed out. "Restoring the other spirits should be – "

"DON'T SAY IT!" Stork cried.

"…Easy?" Link finished, unsure of what Stork was getting at.

Stork hung his head and sighed. "And now that you said that," he groaned, "it's not going to be."

...

Garfield Lynns found out the hard way that taking a nap was a bad idea. His dreams were consumed with flame in an utterly unnerving way; again, Phosphorus haunted him.

He exited his room at the same time Snatcher did his. "Ah, Mr. Lynns!" Snatcher addressed, certain no one was around to hear their natural voices, their true names. "We've much more ground to cover. I've thought it over, and it's ultimately best we begin at – "

He fully beheld Garfield's state. Garfield was attempting to act natural, but Snatcher could perceive his shortness of breath, the small beads of sweat gathering up at the edges of his face. "…Are you quite all right?" he asked with suspicion.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Garfield replied. Yet at the same time, in a moment of weakness, with no one else to turn to and no outlet, he reached out and seized Snatcher's wrist in one hand, gripping hard enough to hurt. He shut his eyes for a good half minute.

"You are NOT all right," Snatcher accused.

"It'll be fine, okay?" Garfield told him, eyes still closed. "I just need…" What could he conceivably ask for in this situation that would alleviate the aftereffects of the dreams? "…Air. I need air."

Snatcher gently tugged his arm away; Garfield had the good sense to let go. "The courtyard it is, then," Snatcher decided. "As fine a starting point as any." He began to walk, keeping his voice low but still in his natural accent: "You do remember our goal."

"Find out why the four chicks were together," Garfield reiterated as he fell into step next to Snatcher, "and get the dirt on why the princess doesn't have her fancy key sword. Piece of cake."

Snatcher didn't pry any further into what had caused Garfield's state of mental distress.

They entered the outdoor courtyard to find it already occupied. Donald Duck waved his staff, conjuring a multitude of fireworks in the air, while Goofy looked on at the lights in awe. The arrival of two visitors was enough to grab Goofy's attention away from the show; he waved at Snatcher and Garfield, giving them a jovial "Hey there!"

"Wak!" Donald doused the fireworks, not wanting to be held responsible if anyone got singed.

"Well, that's new," Garfield said in a low whisper only Snatcher could hear. Snatcher wasn't sure if he was referring to the magical fireworks or the anthropomorphic animals, though in all likelihood, it was both.

"You must be the Pike family!" Goofy said cheerily, approaching Snatcher and Garfield. "King Mickey told us all about ya! Real sorry to hear 'bout what happened to ya."

"Oh, yes, is very tragic," Snatcher confirmed, now back in Nikolai's voice, "but my daughter and I, we move on."

"So who are – " Garfield had a bit more difficulty changing voices on a whim, and the first words came out harsher than he expected. He was able to kick his voice back into gear enough to say "So who are you?"

"Name's Goofy!" Goofy introduced.

"Ah, yes, Goofy," Snatcher said with a nod. "Have heard name from several castle residents. Going by memory, that must make him Donald Duck."

"You betcha!" Donald confirmed, moving closer to join the conversation.

"Didja settle in all right in the castle?" Goofy asked.

"Oh, yes, very settled," Snatcher responded. "Were given quite thorough tour by strong and silent type."

"That's Aeleus for ya!" Goofy laughed, punctuating it with an "A-hyuck!".

"So what were you doing?" Garfield asked, legitimately interested by the show of pyrotechnics. "Blowing stuff up for the heck of it?"

"Daughter is such spirited girl!" Snatcher emphasized. "Has always had strange fascination with fire and fireworks. Would not hurt fly, though."

"Right," Garfield agreed. "No flies hurt here. I'm more angry with the bats that think they can chase fireflies around."

Snatcher gave him a light swat for that one.

"We were just practicin' our fighting skills!" Donald explained. "That was some of my best magic to use against Heartless!"

"And I was gonna do some trainin' with my shield," Goofy added, "but I kinda got distracted by Donald's spell. We were also gonna spar with each other for a bit."

"Spar?" Snatcher repeated, seeing an opportunity to gain a measure of how dangerous these opponents were. "If you are in need of partners…"

"Yeah, I'm in," Garfield said once he saw where Snatcher was going.

"Don't expect us to go easy on ya!" Donald warned.

"Well, I might go a little easy on ya," Goofy admitted. "We only did just meet."

Snatcher and Garfield unhitched their new weapons from their backs and braced them in a battle stance. "Whenever you're ready," Garfield beckoned.

Jaune and Kairi had re-entered the castle by then, having taken a leisurely pace on the route back so they could discuss all manner of things. "…And so I kinda got good at all that stuff," Jaune stated. "If one of my sisters needed her hair braided or her eyeshadow blended, I could step in. Not to brag, but I also give pretty good manicures." A sudden idea struck him. "Do you…like having your nails done?"

"I've actually only ever done them myself," Kairi admitted, "and I don't do them that often. It's not that I don't like them polished. I just don't really have the time, or I forget all about it."

"So you're a princess, and you've never had your nails done by someone else?"

"Nope!" Kairi shook her head playfully.

"Well, maybe…" Jaune couldn't believe he was still shy about suggesting things such as this. "If…you wanted…I could do your nails later."

"Are you sure that wouldn't be too much work?" Kairi asked, wanting to be polite.

"Not one bit," Jaune said, shaking his head.

"Then I'd love that!" Kairi replied, her face simply lighting up.

That was when they heard the twin screams coming from the courtyard. With only a glance to each other to confirm that they needed to investigate, they rushed out just in time to see Snatcher topple to the ground and Garfield, who had been launched into the air by Donald's magic, land solidly on top of him; the sword and the axe lay some feet away from them. Miraculously, neither's disguises were dislodged a bit; the bobby pins holding Garfield's wig to his head had earned their pay.

"Uh, Donald?" Goofy said sheepishly. "Maybe you SHOULDA gone easy on 'em."

"I thought you two were supposed to be some kinda warriors!" Donald commented.

"We are little out of practice," Snatcher said quickly. "Have spent most of recent time escaping, not fighting. Also have injuries from previous fights we neglected to mention until now. Darling daughter Bridgit, please get off of me."

Garfield peeled himself into an upright position, wobbling as he tried to steady his still dizzy head. Snatcher followed suit, dusting himself off.

"Were you sparring?" Kairi asked.

"Eeyup!" Goofy confirmed. "Our new friends the Pikes wanted to practice!"

"Pikes, huh?" Jaune repeated. "You must be REALLY new."

"We only just arrived," Snatcher confirmed.

"The Pikes' homeworld was overtaken by Darkness," Donald explained, "and they just managed to get away! So they're stayin' here!"

"I'm so sorry about what happened," Kairi said sympathetically.

"Eh, don't worry about it," Garfield told her. "We don't."

Snatcher fired him a meaningful look.

"For the sake of our sanity," Garfield corrected. "We have to force ourselves to not think about it."

"I know how that feels," Jaune sighed. "Anyway, it's good to have you on board."

"Let us know if there's anything you need!" Kairi added. "We'll make sure you have it all!"

"We will be sure to come to you with requests," Snatcher confirmed.

Kairi extended her hand to him. "My name's Kairi. What's yours?"

"Nikolai," Snatcher replied, grasping her hand and giving it a firm shake.

"And I'm his daughter, Bridgit," Garfield added, putting out his own hand.

"Jaune Arc," Jaune replied, clasping Garfield's right hand and pumping it lightly a few times. "Nice to meet you."

"By the way, it's okay to be a little rusty on the battlefield," Kairi went on. "Not everyone fights the same way, but we all still get by."

Vexen's orders rang in Snatcher's head. "And what is Kairi's proficiency with weapon?"

"Me?" Kairi reiterated. "I'm getting better. I'm not as good as Jaune – "

"I think you have that the other way around," Jaune told her. "Pretty sure you're better than me."

"Either way, we're not keeping score," Kairi emphasized.

Snatcher hoisted his axe from the ground. "We could put it to test," he suggested. "Rule definitively who has more skill."

"I don't know about that," Kairi told him, "but if you want to spar some more for practice, I'm ready!"

"Shall we?" Snatcher asked as he hefted the axe into the air.

Jaune and Garfield backed off as Kairi's sword shimmered into her hand. "Let's go!" she cried.

The axe whistled down; the sword caught its edge, repelling it. Again and again the blades clashed. Snatcher contemplated cleaving Kairi's head from her shoulders completely and blaming it on an accident, but he ultimately decided not to, on the grounds that she was a valuable source of information and absolutely not because he had any sort of suspicion that her dexteritiy wouldn't even allow him to get close to killing her.

"You are skilled swordswoman," he complimented. That much was true.

"Thanks," Kairi replied. "I have a pretty great teacher."

"Oh? And who is that?"

"You wouldn't have met him yet," Kairi explained. "His name's Riku, and he's been teaching me and Lea to fight. Have you met Lea?"

"Confident redhead. Has power over fire. Makes excellent marshmallows."

"That's the one!" Kairi confirmed with a grin, spinning a full 360 degrees to block the next swing of the axe.

"Is unique sword you wield," Snatcher went on. "Where did you get such beautiful weapon?"

"Actually, it was kind of a collaborative effort," Kairi stated. "It was worked on by Moogles and Boxtrolls."

That made Snatcher cringe to the point of nearly losing his balance with the axe. Parried at every turn by a Boxtroll-forged weapon. Was he never to escape them? "You had forged for your training with Riku?"

"Well, not exactly," Kairi admitted; sparks flew from where the metal of the two weapons met. "Riku was actually teaching us to use something else. The Keyblade. That's what I'm more comfortable with, actually."

"If so, why not use Keyblade?"

Kairi sighed, very nearly – but not completely – letting down her guard and barely blocking the axe's next swing. "I don't have it anymore. Maleficent does."

Snatcher felt he shouldn't have been surprised. If there was one person out to stir the pot more than the residents of Radiant Garden, it was Maleficent. Surely stripping the girl of her Keyblade was part of a larger gambit to upset WHAM ARMY and Radiant Garden alike. "Who is Maleficent?" Snatcher asked. "And why does she have Keyblade of yours?"

"She's an evil faery who just wants to spread Darkness to as many worlds as she can," Kairi explained. "We've been fighting her from the very beginning. A bunch of us went on a rescue mission to save our friends from her, but she ended up severing our connections to the Keyblade and keeping them for herself."

"Our? Who is 'our'?"

"Me and Riku," Kairi explained. "She took the rest of our weapons too, but we were able to reforge some and replace others with less powerful things."

"So she has blade of Lea as well."

"Lea didn't go with us," Kairi corrected. "Jaune, Nora, Ren, and the Mystic Rangers did. They all got their weapons taken. Cadance and Luna were there too, but they didn't have to worry about that."

"But all had their weapons replaced," Snatcher prodded, glad he was able to squirrel out so much information – though his arms were getting quite tired.

"More or less," Kairi replied. "There isn't really anything that CAN replace the Mystic Rangers' wands. They're missing a lot of power without them. Eventually, we're going to have to launch another mission against Maleficent to get those wands back, as well as the Keyblades, but we're not going to do that unless we know everyone can get back safely. Right now, it's too big of a risk. Every time we try and go up against Maleficent, we barely make it back. I don't want to lose anyone that way."

Snatcher decided to end the spar, planting the axe on the ground; Kairi got the signal right away and dismissed her sword. "If you should come up with proper strategy," Snatcher told her, "you have word I will join your mission."

"Yeah, same here," Garfield added from the sidelines.

"I couldn't ask you to do that!" Kairi gasped. "You only just got here! You need time!"

"Believe me," Snatcher told her seriously, "would absolutely love to wipe smug grin off Maleficent's face."

"I hear that," Garfield added, just as seriously.

"It's not like we're gonna attack Maleficent right away anyway," Donald brought up.

"We're just so powerless when it comes to her," Jaune sighed. "It's nothing like when it only takes five of us to scare off Mozenrath's henchpeople."

"Am now curious," Snatcher said, somewhat offended. "Who is this…Mozenrath? Sounds like unique name."

Before anyone could even begin to delve into the subject of the WHAM ARMY, Yuffie bolted into the courtyard; Moana, Nora, Sadira, Lilo, Stitch, Jumba, and Pleakley trailed after her. Snatcher and Garfield saw the latter three for the nonhuman beings they were, just as the four young women had not too long ago, and the sight of such obvious "aliens" momentarily made them both flinch, wide-eyed.

"There you are!" Yuffie proclaimed, her eyes flicking from Donald to Goofy. "Wait. Where's King Mickey?"

"He's still in the lab, workin' on the computer!" Goofy explained.

"I TOLD you!" Nora huffed.

"Okay, that makes sense," Yuffie admitted. "We gotta go see him right now! We just figured out the answer to all his problems!"

"What's the answer to all his problems?" Goofy wondered out loud.

"It seems I am answer to all of king's problems," Jumba explained. "Would be best to explain when we see him, so as not to be telling same story multiple times."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Nora proclaimed. "Let's go see him!"

"I'll come, too," Kairi stated.

"And you know I'm there," Jaune added.

Kairi looked to Snatcher once more. "You and Bridgit can do whatever you want," she suggested. "Make yourselves at home."

"If we are now to be allied with king," Snatcher told her, "we must learn of his problems and offer what help we can. We will come with."

"Lead on," Garfield encouraged.

The group set out for the laboratory, making their way first to the lifts at the castle's heart. Aboard the lift, Jaune and Kairi walked hand in hand; this did not go unnoticed.

"Hey, are you two OFFICIAL?" Nora asked.

"We had one date," Kairi answered. "And…" She turned her head to look to Jaune. "If you want, I'd like to go on more."

"Well, you're in luck," Jaune replied, "because I REALLY want to go on more dates with you."

"Aww, you're so lucky!" Sadira gushed. "I'm a little jealous, actu – no, no, this isn't about me. Seriously, congratulations. Being in love like that is great."

"I don't know if it's 'love' like that quite yet," Jaune said sheepishly. "I mean, I definitely love Kairi as a person, but I think we need more time to figure out if it's the other sense."

"I think so too," Kairi agreed. "It's too soon to say just now. Though I do love Jaune in a lot of ways already, too."

"You're even on the same page about if it's love," Sadira pointed out. "That's chemistry." She then gave a slight sigh; she truly did harbor envy stirred up by the situation. She was trying her best to stuff it away in favor of happiness for her friends, but that was proving difficult.

Pleakley was the first to pick up on this. "Hey, you'll find someone," he told Sadira. "All my Earth research plus personal experience has led me to the conclusion that you only really find love when you're not expecting it. Like maybe you get assigned to chaperone a dangerous criminal on a life-threatening mission and you figure out you actually get along."

"Or, alternatively," Jumba offered, "you are dangerous criminal who is given chance at redemption through exciting adventure, but only on condition that you are accompanied by annoying government official. But then, after some time, turns out official is not so annoying after all."

"I'm just saying it's gonna happen," Pleakley reaffirmed.

"Well, just for reference, I'm probably going to be the 'dangerous criminal' in that situation if anything," Sadira pointed out with a playful smile. "It's a long story."

The lift halted, and the group spilled out into a labyrinth of hallways. "Anyway," Sadira asked, now looking at Snatcher and Garfield, "who are you?"

"Am Nikolai Pike," Snatcher reiterated. "This is daughter Bridgit."

"Hey," Garfield punctuated.

"We will be staying in castle indefinitely," Snatcher stated.

"This is the first time I'm hearing about this," Yuffie broke in.

"Well, our homeworld kinda went to the dogs," Garfield chipped in, "soooooooo we live here now."

"What happened?" Moana asked, wide-eyed with concern.

"I don't think they want to talk about it," Kairi said sympathetically.

"Well…could give short rendition," Snatcher relented, hoping the recollection of the tale would get everyone on his good side.

So he and Garfield took turns explaining how they came from the Abarat, which was a world they loved so much, it was too painful to describe any notable features of as far as topography or culture were concerned. They loosely described how Darkness had overtaken their homeland, and how Snatcher's "wife" was tragically lost. That brought them to their grand escape, which brought them to Radiant Garden.

As Snatcher spoke, Jumba felt there was something about the man that didn't quite sit well with him. And by the time he'd finished the story, Jumba figured out what it was. But it didn't seem prudent to bring up. There was, after all, the possibility that Jumba had misjudged it, and he had only just met the man. It didn't necessarily mean anything, either.

By then, the group reached the laboratory, entering the room where Mickey stared blankly at the computer screen from his perch atop a chair he'd borrowed to attain the proper height to match the computer. "Hiya, fellas," Mickey said absent-mindedly, hoping that if he looked at the device long enough, a solution would appear to him.

"Your Majesty!" Yuffie greeted, and she, Moana, Nora, Sadira, Kairi, and Jaune bowed briefly. "We can solve all your problems!"

"Huh?" Mickey looked up at the group, noticing Jumba, Pleakley, Lilo, and Stitch. "Hey! Looks like ya made some more new friends!"

"Don't worry, Your Majesty!" Lilo said confidently with a salute. "We're here to help you take your castle back! Because we're an official problem-solving squad!"

"We are not official problem-solving squad," Jumba said flatly, arms folded. "This is one-time offer before returning to activities of moral dubiousness or outright evil."

"He's really all talk about the evil thing," Lilo punctuated.

"Am understanding you have elusive password that needs recovering," Jumba told Mickey.

"Well, yeah," Mickey confirmed. "That's the gist of it. Are you some kinda hacker?"

"SOME KIND OF HACKER!" Jumba repeated, quite amused. "HA! He thinks I am merely SOME KIND OF HACKER! I have disrupted government security systems of mind-boggling complexity! I have breached completely hacker-proof networks! I am exact solution you need!"

"Well, that sounds great!" Mickey replied. "But, uh…who are ya?"

"Maybe we should start from the beginning," Lilo suggested. "Like how we ended up here in the first place."

"Umm…" Stitch looked around, then pointed to Sadira, Moana, Nora, and Yuffie. "Them. They started it."

"Well, it sounds like it started a longer time ago, when you got lost," Moana pointed out.

After some faltering, the group finally got into position to tell the story in as coherent of an order as they could. When Sadira mentioned that she had brought the others out on a shopping trip as a "girls' day" but the other three had been less than impressed, Pleakley commented, "Well, that's just ridiculous! Color-coordinating Earth garments and accessories is inherently enjoyable! Unless it's done differently here in Radiant Garden."

"No, shopping's the same everywhere you go," Nora sighed, "and it's still boring."

"Let's just get back to the story," Moana went on. "All of a sudden, Cid came chasing Stitch down the street, and he was yelling – well, a lot of things we can't really repeat."

"Kinda want to, though," Nora commented.

Moana cleared her throat loudly and nodded her head in Lilo's direction.

"Right," Nora realized. "We can get into specifics later."

As the story continued, Garfield discreetly slipped his scroll out of his pocket and began to snap pictures. He now knew why the four young women had isolated themselves, though he still wasn't sure how exactly this was supposed to help the Huntsman. He did suspect that the Huntsman would find pictures of what Garfield could only describe as real-life aliens (without thinking too hard about the fact that on this world, technically, Yuffie was the only one in the room who wasn't an alien) intriguing.

"Which leads us to present moment," Jumba concluded when the story was all said and done.

"Well, I'm happy to let ya help!" Mickey asserted, leaping down from the chair. "Though this really is a finicky system. I was told the trash bin doesn't even work for throwin' out trash, and that's no exaggeration!"

"Let me take look." Jumba took over the abandoned seat, his fingers experimentally testing out the keyboard so he could get a general sense of this computer's basic operating system. "Describe to me again exact situation for which we seek password."

"While you do that," Garfield said, "I gotta use the can. I haven't seen a toilet since we got here, and I bet you haven't either, right, Dad?" He nudged Snatcher.

Snatcher picked up the cue immediately. "Was doing all right until you mentioned subject of toilet," he pretended to complain. "We will return."

"Need someone to go with you so you don't get lost?" Yuffie offered.

"NO!" Garfield and Snatcher said at the same time. Then, more calmly, Snatcher explained, "Have very good sense of direction. Will find room again easily."

He and Garfield slipped out the door, jogging a good distance out of earshot before Garfield said, "Skullface is gonna wanna know about this."

"My thoughts exactly, Mr. Lynns," Snatcher concurred.

Meanwhile, once the pair had left, Jumba admitted, "This Nikolai Pike. You are sure he is friend?"

"Well, we just met him," Goofy pointed out, "but we've got no reason NOT to think he's a friend!"

"The Pikes have the same story as most of us here," Kairi reminded the others. "They need someplace to call home as much as we do."

"Did you have some kind of problem with them?" Jaune asked.

"With daughter? No," Jumba stated. "As for Nikolai, is probably nothing to worry about. But...accent sounds fake."

The group took it under consideration and ultimately shrugged it off.

...

Terra Tropica was absolutely gorgeous. The sun hung high in the topaz sky and sparkled off the surface of the water in a thousand tiny diamonds of light. The sand of the beach was perfectly warm to the touch, inviting visitors to lie down in it and fall asleep beneath the sun.

Snipe wanted that sand to know that he wasn't about to fall for that trap; he'd already been sunburned crimson in the past and did not intend to do so again. So he headed inland, taking a stroll among the tall, swaying trees.

After a peaceful stint of walking, Snipe came upon a clearing occupied by a very tiny person. He recognized her immediately. "HEY!" Snipe yelled. "YOU'RE THAT STORM HAWK!"

She had her back to him; once he addressed her, she did an about-face and looked up into his eyes. She was just as he remembered her: tall blue hair, bright amber eyes –

But something was different about the girl. Piper, he suddenly remembered. Her name was Piper. Snipe was pretty sure that last time he saw her, she hadn't been so…small. As she waddled up closer to him, he suddenly realized the big difference, wondering how it hadn't occurred to him earlier.

She was only five years old.

Without saying a word, small Piper looked curiously up at Snipe. Snipe, figuring this was his big chance to rid himself of a persistent enemy, reached for his mace. He realized he hadn't even remembered his mace being on his person, but the moment he needed it to be in his hand, it was there. He raised it high, then brought it down swiftly.

Small Piper caught the falling weapon's brunt in one hand, repelling it from crushing her.

"WHAT?" Snipe yelled in confusion.

The girl shoved the mace with both hands, and Snipe went toppling over backward. Landing on his rear, he growled at small Piper. He wasn't going to let a five-year-old girl best him. He hoisted up the mace –

And was immediately overcome by its weight, causing him to drop it to the sand. He scrambled to his feet, gripping the mace by its staff. Why had it suddenly become so much heavier? It must have been a literal ton.

Letting out a scream – the first noise she'd made since Snipe had come upon her – small Piper leapt high into the air and punched Snipe in the face.

It hit like a bag of bricks. Snipe was blown backward, landing on his back and staring up at the blue sky. His mace was too heavy, and a toddler version of one of the Storm Hawks had just bested him in one blow. Perhaps these things weren't unrelated.

Perhaps Snipe had simply lost all of his strength.

And as terror set in about that fact, small Piper wrenched an entire tree out of the earth, swinging it down hard onto Snipe's chest. The impact left him winded. Satisfied, small Piper skipped happily away.

Snipe tried in vain to pry the tree trunk off his body, but it lay solidly across him, pinning him down. He knew that normally, something like this would be no sweat to remove. But he had lost his strength, somehow, and as he struggled, he grew more and more afraid, down to the very core. If someone didn't come along to help him – which he didn't want anyway, but in this case, accepting help was better than the alternative – he would be pinned beneath this tree until he died.

...

In his bed, Snipe tossed and turned, scraping at an imaginary pinion with his hands. His consciousness was roused by the sound of sharp rapping on wood. One eye pried open. Then the other.

Snipe slowly sat up in bed. "That was a nightmare?" he said to himself. Then, angrily as he punched the mattress to either side of him, "I got psyched out by a NIGHTMARE?"

The rapping, the noise that had awoken him, came again. "I'm coming, I'm coming!" Snipe growled as he stormed out of bed and into the main room of his apartment.

He traced the knocking sound to the door, and opened it to find Ravess there. "Ravess!" Snipe barked. "What do you want?"

"I…uh…" Ravess seemed displaced, somehow: completely out of her element. "I just…wanted to visit you."

"VISIT me?" Snipe repeated.

"Well, yes!" Ravess retorted sharply. "Can't a sister want to visit her brother?" She sighed, covering up her shiftiness with forced disdain. She'd confirmed Snipe was alive, and could move on from her primary goal. "I'm going to the laboratories. Come with me if you wish."

"Why are you going to the labs?" Snipe asked.

Ravess didn't have a good answer to that; she eventually came up with "Because I just want to!"

"You're acting weird," Snipe called out.

"Am I not allowed to act weird if I please?" Ravess countered.

"That doesn't make any sense!" Snipe snapped. "And I'M the one who usually doesn't make sense around here! According to you, anyway!"

"Are you coming to the labs or not?" Ravess asked.

"Yeah," Snipe told her, "I'm coming. Because I'm gonna figure out why you're being so WEIRD!"

"I'm touched that you care so much," Ravess said flippantly as she left the room.

"I DON'T CARE!" Snipe yelled as he followed her, not remembering to shut the door behind him. "I JUST WANNA FIGURE OUT WHY EVERYTHING'S SO WEIRD!"

Though, come to think of it, Ravess wasn't the only oddity in Snipe's world. For even upon waking, he still had the feeling that he was weakened, that the tree still pinned him down. And it refused to fade from his mind.

...

The general assigned to Faron Woods heard the approaching party from a good distance away. He smiled to himself, glad there was opposition approaching after all. Standing at his post was becoming very boring; when he'd been assigned this gig, he had hoped for intruders to gun down. Finally, some real entertainment was on its way.

When Mozenrath, Hans, Roman, Wuya, Yzma, Zevon, Irmaplotz, and Demyx found their way through the trees to the clearing where the sacred spring lay, the general grinned, adjusting the position of the Huntsclan-issue cannon over his shoulder. "Well, isn't this a laugh," Clayton remarked. "I should really have suspected! Of course it would be you."

"Am I supposed to know you?" Mozenrath replied, coming to a halt to face Clayton head-on, one eyebrow cocked.

"I think he was there when we were attacked in the Goab Desert," Yzma reminded him.

"No," Mozenrath said, "that was the last guy."

"Pretty sure they were both there," Yzma corrected.

Mozenrath shook his head. "They all look alike. I'm losing track."

Clayton supposed they had just dealt with McLeach; he was rather miffed at being physically compared to the poacher, as he felt he was the far more handsome one of the two, but he wasn't about to throw a tantrum over it. Instead, he visually sized up Mozenrath's traveling companions. "This is what you brought to protect you, Mozenrath?" Clayton taunted. "It's a wonder you've lasted as long as you have! Where, pray tell, is your helmeted champion?"

"He doesn't need him," Wuya said through gritted teeth, stepping out in front of Mozenrath. "He has me."

Clayton aimed the barrel of the cannon directly at Wuya. "Shall we make this brief?" he proposed.

"That would be preferable," Wuya confirmed.

As the eight of the WHAM ARMY struck defensive stances, Clayton gave a whistle. The spring bubbled, then erupted. The spirit Faron took on the appearance of a monkey with a long tail that curled around his sphere of Darkness. "For once, a primate that actually does me some good," Clayton remarked.

Before he or Faron could make a move, their eight opponents scattered to distant corners of the field. Clayton's finger tightened on the trigger of the cannon, letting loose the first blast at Wuya's trail; she launched herself high into the air, sailing over the volley of ammunition. The green blast collided with the ground, leaving a sizeable pockmark.

As Wuya fell back down to earth, she gathered up a lime-colored ball of flame in each hand. She drew them back, ready to launch at Clayton –

Faron's whiplike tail caught her in the stomach, flinging her back until she hit a tree. She collapsed to the ground, gritting her teeth with anger at the momentary setback.

Faron spun in a half-circle, his tail forcing the others to backtrack hastily in order to not be smacked by the flexbile appendage. Clayton knew Wuya was the one to target; by calling herself out, she had betrayed her value to him. He kept his weapon trained on her, loosing blast after blast. Wuya slammed her hands together, and a wall of the earth itself jutted up out of the ground to absorb the blasts; it was worn through after three, and Wuya was cartwheeling on her way to find a new hiding place.

Leaping over Faron's tail like a jump rope, Roman quickly drew the Cudgel and fired off a quick volley. "WHO'S USELESS NOW?" he yelled as the impact of his ammunition exploded against Faron's skin. "WHO IS USELESS NOW?"

It had no effect against Faron, whose attention was now turned to the mild annoyance with the gun.

"Okay, so you're invincible," Roman muttered. "But YOU'RE not." His aim shifted to Clayton, who was still focused on Wuya. He pulled the trigger again.

Faron planted himself in front of Clayton, completely swallowing Roman's ammunition. He then bowled an orb of Darkness toward Roman, whose reflexes did not kick in in time for him to dodge the incoming projectile. He did, however, have enough clarity of mind to yell "NOT ME! NOT FIRST! NOT AGAI – "

When the orb hit, Roman was thrown to the ground. He attempted to stand, thankful that he still had his consciousness, but was quickly deterred. "Okay, so trying to move literally anything hurts like hell," he muttered. "Good to know."

"Stay back!" Hans called to Mozenrath, drawing his sword. "We'll let the ones with magic get in close!"

"And if I don't want to stay back?" Mozenrath countered, drawing his own sword.

"Then it's your funeral," Hans reminded him, "which means all of our funerals."

Demyx strummed a chord on his sitar, crying out, "DANCE, WATER, DANCE!" A hundred watery formations sprang from the ground, charging Clayton.

Faron pounced on a cluster of them, breaking them down into droplets. His tail wiped out almost all of the rest. As for the few that remained, Clayton took a moment to stop firing his cannon, holding it in place with one hand, while his other hand drew a machete that easily cut through the rest of the water forms in one blow. "Was that supposed to intimidate me?" Clayton taunted.

"NO!" Zevon yelled. "IT WAS SUPPOSED TO DISTRACTIFY YOU!" He had taken advantage of Clayton's preoccupation to get close to him, drawing a flask from his belt. Tossing the glass, he yelled, "BA-BLAM – "

Clayton quickly dropped the machete, raising his hand. He deftly caught the flask, chucking it right back at Zevon; the glass shattered against Zevon's chest, a few shards piercing through his shirt into his skin. That was the least of Zevon's worries, however, as the potion he'd thrown had been labeled "petrificate." His entire body was transfigured into hard and unmoving granite, as though he had been sculpted into place.

Clayton then turned the cannon toward Zevon, knowing one well-placed shot would shatter the man.

"NO!" Wuya dove at Zevon, grabbing him around the upper body and pulling him into a short teleportation that brought them both to the far side of the field.

"ZEVON!" Yzma cried in dismay. As her gaze followed Wuya and Zevon, it did not fixate upon Faron, whose tail had come swinging around again. Yzma was struck in the stomach, thrown against the side of a tall stone wall. She slid down it into a sitting position, dazed from the impact her head had made against the hard rock.

Faron, seeing a chance to finish Yzma off, bowled another orb of Darkness directly toward her.

"NO!" Irmaplotz landed hard in front of Yzma, both hands glowing. "NOT THIS TIME!" She slammed her illuminated palms into the orb, shoving back with all her might. The fabric of her gloves sizzled away, exposing her bare skin to the pure Darkness, which was painful to the touch. But with one last shove, she had sent the orb rolling toward Clayton.

The cannon's fire obliterated the orb entirely. Clayton now turned his fire to Irmaplotz. A green volley boomed through the air.

Irmaplotz put a deflection shield around herself and Yzma. The cannon fire, having been designed by the Huntsclan to cut through that exact sort of magic, burst into the defensive sphere, exploding. Irmaplotz was thrown to the ground; she and Yzma were both knocked out.

"We're just about out of magic wielders," Mozenrath reminded Hans.

"Okay," Hans told him, "I just need time to think – "

"No," Mozenrath insisted.

Before Hans could pry, Mozenrath had taken off like a shot bullet, sword swinging.

"DEMYX!" Hans screamed, taking after Mozenrath. "COVER US!"

Demyx fell into step alongside Hans and Mozenrath, playing furiously on his sitar. A dome of water encased the trio. Faron whipped it with his tail; the appendage bounced off, but at the dome's expense, water raining down upon the three runners from the ruined shield. Faron planted himself directly in front of Hans, Demyx, and Mozenrath, gathering up another orb.

Demyx strummed a quick chord; several fountains of water blasted Faron backward. Clayton fumbled the cannon, dropping it momentarily as he leapt out of the way of the monkey's trajectory. As Faron flew, his tail whipped around again, catching Demyx this time and throwing him against a tree. The tree cracked, its trunk snapping and falling over backward. Demyx was certain a few things in his own body had cracked as well; as he attempted to stand, his legs wouldn't hold his weight. On top of that, one of his arms sent shooting pains through his body every time he tried to move it; playing the sitar anymore was right out of the question.

Faron launched an orb high into the air; it plummeted like a meteor toward Hans and Mozenrath. Instantly, Wuya was there, catching the orb in her bare hands; she, unlike Irmaplotz, felt no burn. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" she yelled at Hans and Mozenrath.

"ASK HIM!" Hans cried.

Mozenrath was in no position to answer. "YOU!" he growled at Clayton, sword swinging.

Clayton abandoned the cannon, which was too heavy to pick up for quick combat. He instead found his fallen machete, taking it up into hand as he regained his standing position. "Come now," he beckoned. "Fight me like a man."

Mozenrath was ready to begin the duel, but Hans was faster, throwing himself between Mozenrath and Clayton; Clayton's blade crashed into Hans'. "You can hurt him over my dead body," Hans seethed.

Faron had leapt back to his feet; Wuya put all her energy into summoning chains to hold him down, locking in shackles around his neck, each of his limbs, and his tail. Faron struggled; the chain holding back his rear left leg snapped and dissolved. The rest held firm.

Clayton humored Hans only a short while, parrying all of the prince's blows, before thrusting a foot into Hans' stomach and shoving him back hard. As Hans was caught off guard, the machete bit into his chest. It was far away enough from his heart not to kill him, though Clayton has certainly not intended to miss the mark in such a way. Clayton gave the blade a hard twist; Hans screamed out in pain and went limp, only held up in the air by Clayton's weapon.

"How pitiful," Clayton remarked.

That was when the searing pain cut through his right shoulder. Hans fell away, taking the sword – and Clayton's whole severed arm – with him.

Through his own screams, Clayton gathered enough of his mental process together to figure out that Mozenrath had managed to sneak up on him from behind and slice off one of his arms. "I kind of liked that guy," Mozenrath said casually.

Clayton spun to face down Mozenrath, hardly caring that he now bore no weapon to do so, or that he was bleeding so heavily from one side of his body, he could potentially die in a matter of minutes.

Wuya slammed down into the spring waters beside Mozenrath, the pair of them framed only by the struggling Faron. She then sped around toward Clayton, seizing his remaining hand and grasping it hard; the Triforce of Power flowed from him to her. Clayton struggled to break his arm of her grip, but jerked his hand free only after Wuya had taken what she wanted. "I WILL KILL YOU!" he roared.

Dealing a cartwheel kick to Clayton's chin to disorient him, Wuya then leapt back to stand beside Mozenrath once more. She snapped her fingers, and a multitude of weapons hung in the air around Mozenrath and herself, axes and pikes and swords, all pointed at Clayton. "Just you try it," she challenged.

Clayton was suddenly aware of the sound of a Corridor of Darkness opening up behind him, between his back and Hans. "Just admit you've failed," a posh male voice echoed from the portal.

"NO!" Clayton roared. "I WILL HAVE HIS HEAD!"

"You're not even going to die with honor that way," the voice went on. "As it is, you'll look completely moronic."

"Finish him," Mozenrath growled.

"Not yet," Wuya replied. "I want to see if his friend comes out to make this a two-for-one special."

The voice's owner stepped into view, the Corridor framing him. All could see he was a tall man, bearing short, dark hair and a prominent mustache; he was clothed in a suit with a burgundy waistcoat over a mustard-yellow shirt. "Just come with me before you make a bigger fool of yourself," the man beckoned. "It's worth noting that Maleficent won't bother with you if you do die here. Meanwhile, I can repair what you've just lost. Goodness knows I've been put to work on worse."

"All right, now," Wuya relented.

As the man with the mustache retreated into the portal, Clayton, fuming, had the good sense to chase after him; the Corridor dissipated just before the weapons flew to where it had been. Wuya let them all drop to the ground in a clang of metal.

A loud CRACK let her know Faron had broken another one of his chains.

"We have to get everyone out of here," she said in a voice that only betrayed the slightest panic. A portal of her own appeared in the clearing, and she gave Mozenrath's back a hard shove toward it as she hissed, "Go! GO!"

Mozenrath didn't need to be told twice. He rushed through, finding himself in a part of the woods the group had passed through earlier. It only then occurred to him that perhaps he shouldn't have left Hans behind after the prince had taken a blade for him.

Hans was next to stumble through the portal, bleeding but alive. He wrenched the machete out of his chest, throwing it to the ground before falling before Mozenrath's feet.

"You didn't have to do that," Mozenrath told him.

"But we won," Hans panted, "didn't we?" He managed a coy smile upward at Mozenrath.

Wuya ushered the rest through, one by one: Irmaplotz, Yzma, the petrified Zevon, Demyx, Roman, and finally Wuya herself. Then the portal closed, leaving the melee behind them.

No one spoke. No one wanted to. All anyone desired at that moment in time was to catch their breath.

...

Snatcher and Garfield hurried into the bedroom Snatcher had claimed as his own; Garfield was already dialing the number to connect with the other half of the party as Snatcher made sure the door was shut and locked.

"Report," the Huntsman greeted.

"Okay, so we don't have a lot of time," Garfield began, "but we found out a lot of stuff, and we figured you should know sooner rather than later."

He plopped down onto the side of the bed, and Snatcher joined him there. "Mr. Vexen?" Snatcher asked the scroll. "Are you present?"

"I've nowhere better to be," Vexen answered.

"I now know the reason behind the missing Keyblade," Snatcher said smugly. "Seems Her Majesty had a bit of a run-in with Maleficent. Now she's missing her blade, master Riku has lost his, and all five Mystic Rangers are stranded without their wands."

"Combining that with the information you provided earlier," the Huntsman realized, "that means the Mystic Rangers are unable to use the vast majority of their power against us."

"Perhaps a full-scale attack would not be as difficult as originally perceived," Vexen mused.

"And you wanna launch one?" Garfield asked.

"The Huntsman and I have been discussing an endgame for this mission," Vexen admitted, "and we've been putting together a plan. There are still some key pieces missing from the formula, but the information you provide should help us settle them into place. With Lea as the only Keybearer present and assuming no help from the Mystic Rangers' powers, there is an incredible disadvantage in our enemies' ranks."

"Did that plan still involve figuring out what those four chicks were doing together?" Garfield asked. "'Cause we found that out, too. Turns out one of 'em's real into shopping, and tried to drag the other three out on a girls' day. The other three weren't impressed."

"I'm not certain how that information is of any use," Snatcher admitted.

"It may yet be," the Huntsman said cryptically.

"But that's not even the icing on the cake," Garfield went on. "Heck, it's barely the cake. Turns out when they went out, they ran into a couple of new guys. Took 'em in just like they took us in. It started with this little blue thing. I'm sending you the pic now."

In the room he and Vexen had chosen as their stronghold, the Huntsman opened the file Garfield had texted him as soon as it had transferred. "So the chicks find this thing," Garfield began, "and, I dunno, it was lost, so they…"

His words were drowned out of the Huntsman's brain. When those crimson eyes beheld the first picture of Stitch, a connection was forged. An opportunity suddenly bloomed.

"What is it?" Vexen groaned, interrupting Garfield.

"Is something amiss?" Snatcher asked.

"The Huntsman appears completely lost in thought," Vexen informed Garfield and Snatcher.

"How can you tell through that helmet?" Garfield wondered out loud.

"Would you care to enlighten us as to what you are thinking?" Snatcher asked.

"This creature," the Huntsman said in a near-whisper. "All this time, it was real."

"It is familiar?" Snatcher asked. "I can hardly see how that's possible."

"Against all odds, it is," the Huntsman explained. "When one is a hunter of magical creatures, one takes more stock in tabloid magazines than the average citizen. Much of what they print is fiction, made up to sell headlines. But every now and again, they catch sight of something true, and figure it so unbelievable, it must sell. A great many photographs are undoctored images of unicorns, dragons, kelpies, and other such creatures. There was a moment, however, at which I failed to differentiate fact from fiction. Seeing a photograph of this very creature on the front page, reportedly spotted in Hawaii, I wrote it off as mere nonsense. An extraterrestrial from another planet, the author said. But all this time…it was true…"

"Hang on," Garfield broke in. "That thing came with a family, and the little girl MENTIONED Hawaii. You don't think this is the same alien, do you?"

"Most likely another specimen from the same distant world," Vexen figured.

"No!" the Huntsman insisted. "This is the same creature! It was reported to be the pet of a small girl. And I did not pursue it because of my own doubts!" His voice became lower and more gravelly than Vexen or Garfield had yet heard it: "I must slay it."

"I'm not certain it has any magical worth," Snatcher told him.

"It comes from my world," the Huntsman asserted. "Fate aligned it with me. I was meant to destroy it and take the spoils for my own. Quickly, tell me all you have learned of it."

After Snatcher and Garfield relayed the information they had collected about Lilo and Stitch's family, the Huntsman stated sternly, "I now know what you must do."

"Are we to simply abandon all of our plans so that you may capture an alien creature?" Vexen asked in disbelief. "You no longer rank high enough to give such a command! You relinquished that honor yourself!"

"That is not what happened," the Huntsman stated coldly, "but if it eases your mind, I will let Mr. Snatcher take the helm. Mr. Snatcher, hear my proposal. If it should suit your tastes, you can approve or deny it. But I believe there is a way we may all get what we want. This creature is the missing piece of our plan. Help me obtain it, and we can destroy all of our enemies on their own ground."

"I like the sounds of it thus far," Snatcher admitted. "Go on."

"Here is what I propose," the Huntsman began. "The information you have delivered about the four girls shall come into play after all."


	60. Getting Your Goat

60\. Getting Your Goat

Snatcher and Garfield breezed out of the former's room, hastily making their way back to the central lift terminal within the castle so they could return to the scene of the gathering.

Once at said terminal, however, they were faced with countless pickups, drop-offs, crystals, and the lifts themselves.

"You…do remember which lift we took to get down there, right?" Garfield asked.

"Of course I do," Snatcher said haughtily. "Quite obvious to remember."

Neither made a move.

"So," Garfield went on, "you gonna…call it up?"

"I thought I'd let you do the honors," Snatcher told him. "Unless, of course, YOU'VE forgotten."

"No, no," Garfield replied hurriedly. "Just thought you'd wanna do it."

"I am feeling quite generous today, Mr. Lynns. After you."

"No, no, Archie, I insist. After you."

"Mr. Lynns…"

"What?"

Snatcher sighed. "At least pick out a different nickname."

They were both snapped back into character when a door on the same level opened up and Leon, Aerith, and Ienzo came striding through. "There they are now," Ienzo told his companions. "That's a happy coincidence." He waved to Snatcher and Garfield. "How is your stay so far?"

"Could not be asking for better," Snatcher replied, laying the Russian accent on thick.

Ienzo approached with Leon and Aerith in tow. "I'm glad to hear it," he said. "Merlin explained to me that it could be difficult for Abaratians to get used to the linear passage of time."

Neither Snatcher nor Garfield new how to respond to this.

"I'm glad to meet you," Aerith broke in, extending her right hand. "I'm Aerith."

"And I'm Leon," Leon huffed, arms folded as he cracked a small smile.

Snatcher took Aerith's hand and shook it heartily. "Am most charmed!" he insisted. "You are all permanent members of Committee if I remember, no?"

"That's right!" Aerith confirmed.

"Is new turn of events you will want to know about," Snatcher stated, seeing an easy way to get a guide back to the laboratory. "Miss Sadira and friends found new group of world-traveling…not sure if 'heroes' is correct word. One of them insists upon being villain. However, he does know how to fix Mr. Mouse's password problem."

"They're down in the computer lab right now," Garfield added. "Thought you might wanna check it out." He cleared his throat rather loudly; cold switches from voice to voice were still not his forte.

"Someone new working on that problem?" Ienzo repeated. "That definitely sounds like something we should check out."

Aerith nodded. "Let's go." She approached a nearby crystal, using it to summon a lift.

All five stepped onboard; then Aerith begged, "Please tell us more about who Sadira found."

"Apparently began on shopping trip," Snatcher began.

By the time the five reached the computer room – Leon, Aerith, and Ienzo leading the way – Snatcher and Garfield had painted somewhat of a picture of the current situation. Jaune, Kairi, Sadira, Nora, Moana, Yuffie, Donald, Goofy, Mickey, Lilo, Stitch, and Pleakley were scattered around the room, all watching Jumba hard at work before the screen.

"All right, attempt did not work," Jumba muttered. "Is time to break out workaround A113." A few keystrokes had him stating "Ah, yes, now we are making progress."

"Hello!" Aerith walked cheerily to his side, prompting him to turn and face her. "You must be Jumba. My name is Aerith."

"Ah, you must be one of other heroic characters who lives in castle!" Jumba realized. Despite the differing sizes of their hands, they managed a handshake. "You have been told all about us by axe man and daughter."

"We have," Aerith confirmed. "Thank you so much for helping us out."

"Will take time to remind you is not ordinary circumstance," Jumba stated decisively. "Am not in business of helping out. But am making special exception."

"Riiiiight," Pleakley said sarcastically. "Because you're sooooo evil."

"Our sources say your name is 'Pleakley,'" Ienzo stated as he approached whom he addressed. "You're assisting?"

"Is moral support," Jumba stated. "Is surprisingly good at it."

"Well, I, uh…" Pleakley hadn't been expecting the compliment, and, caught off guard, flushed. "I try…"

"And that makes you Lilo," Leon said, nodding downward at the girl.

"That's me!" Lilo said with a smile. "What're your names?"

"I am Ienzo," Ienzo stated.

"Ienzo," Lilo repeated. "I like that name. It's unique."

"Leon," Leon chipped in.

Lilo gave Leon a once-over visually, taking in his tough-looking exterior, before asking, "Have you ever killed anyone?"

"LILO!" Pleakley scolded. "You don't just ask people that! That's rude!"

"It's a question with a tough answer," Leon told her.

"So that's a yes," Lilo figured. "Cool!"

Leon wasn't sure how to respond. He turned away, fixing his attention on the computer screen.

"Please don't be offended," Aerith said softly, approaching Lilo and kneeling to her level. "Leon isn't very comfortable around children. I think it's because he had to spend a lot of his own childhood acting like a grown-up."

"I'd rather you didn't tell my life story to strangers," Leon grunted.

"It's okay," Lilo stated. "Being a hero is a tough job. I'm surprised more of the heroes I know from books and TV don't sustain psychological damage."

"I hear you're somewhat of a hero yourself," Aerith said with a smile. "I do hope you don't have to suffer any psychological damage."

"I'm sure it's coming," Lilo stated plainly. "But my ohana and I have already supported each other through a lot. We can get through worse."

"Please don't say that," Pleakley sighed. "I don't wanna actually tempt fate to make things WORSE on us."

"Ohana?" Aerith repeated with curiosity. "I'm sorry, I don't know what that word means."

"Actually, I do." Ienzo stepped forward. "It has a meaning all its own, but the closest approximation I know is to the term 'family.'"

"Now I understand!" Aerith said sweetly. "I'm glad you and your family are so close."

"That's why we looked so hard to find Stitch after he got lost," Lilo asserted. "Because he's part of our ohana, and ohana means nobody gets left behind."

"Or forgotten," Stitch chimed in.

"I'm very glad," Aerith said.

After that, the room was filled with a temporary silence broken up only by the tapping of keys beneath Jumba's fingers.

"Hey, so watching this guy try and break that password is really boring," Garfield brought up, hoping to initiate the first step of the Huntsman and Vexen's plan.

"Well, gosh, we don't expect you all to just sit around and watch," Mickey stated. "Why don't you all go out and have some fun?"

"I was hoping to get to know some of you a little better," Garfield went on, looking to Sadira. "What would you have to say if I invited myself to your girls' day? We could bring Lilo, too. Show her the town."

"Really?" Lilo said in excitement. "You'll give me and Stitch a tour of the town?"

"Of course!" Yuffie replied enthusiastically.

"Just tell me this doesn't involve any more shoppiiiiiiing," Nora groaned.

"Hey!" Sadira countered. "Shopping for clothes is fun!"

"It's really not," Nora sighed.

"I agree with Sadira!" Pleakley argued. "It's a cognitive exercise in color-coordination AND a quick self-esteem boost!"

"How about we compromise?" Moana suggested. "The tour of the town will be the first priority, but nobody says that Sadira and Pleakley can't look in a few windows and maybe pick up something they REALLY want. I'm sure the rest of us will have a lot to talk about in the meantime."

Nora gave Yuffie a quick look. "You're going?"

"Sure am!" Yuffie confirmed. "Who else could lead a good tour of Radiant Garden? None of the rest of you live here!"

"Then I could stand for another trip out," Nora decided.

"Anyone else in?" Sadira asked. "Aerith?"

"I should stay and supervise the codebreaking," Aerith stated. "You should have fun, though."

"Kairi?" Sadira offered.

"Go if you want," Jaune encouraged.

Kairi shook her head. "I want to spend more time with you. If you're okay with that."

"Of course I am," Jaune affirmed.

"The lovebirds are out," Sadira said with a roll of the eyes. "Guess that just leaves us."

"Tookie bah wah bah!" Stitch said excitedly.

"What does that mean?" Moana asked.

"It basically means 'Let's go' in Tantalog," Pleakley translated.

"Now hold on," Snatcher interrupted. "Still have several questions about world Stitch comes from and Heartless attack. Am confused on many points. Not to mention interlude about big battle Stitch took part in while stranded here. Am wanting to ask Stitch many, many more questions."

"Well, they'll just have to WAIT," Lilo growled. "Because Stitch and I just got reunited after MONTHS, and we wanna spend TIME TOGETHER!"

"Yeah!" Stitch punctuated.

"Lilo," Pleakley scolded lightly, "you'll have plenty of time to catch up with Stitch later. If Nikolai still has questions, then someone should answer them. Maybe I should stay back too. I am a veritable Earth expert, after all!"

"Your call," Garfield said. "All I'm saying is that with Stitch around, it wouldn't be a real girls' day anyway."

"You should go with little girl and shopping party," Jumba told Pleakley. "Nani would want little girl to have chaperone. You will watch her there; I will watch Stitch here. We make sure nothing bad happens to either again."

"You know what?" Pleakley replied. "You're right! I'm gonna go out on the town too! I can't WAIT to compare Radiant Garden fashions to traditional Earth dress!"

"Just so long as YOU don't mess with the computer and send us to a digital world again!" Donald quacked at Stitch.

Stitch gave a sheepish shrug and offered no rebuttal other than "Oopsie!".

Garfield immediately made for the door, and Sadira, Nora, Yuffie, Moana, and Pleakley followed. Lilo brought up the rear of the group, but didn't leave before turning to give a wave to Stitch, which he returned.

"Why don't we go, too?" Jaune proposed to Kairi. "We could go do what we were talking about earlier. I'd just need to pick up a few things from town first."

"Please spare us details of love life behind closed doors," Snatcher grunted.

"No, not like that!" Jaune said, quite embarrassed. "I was actually going to do Kairi's nails. I'd just need a nail file, a cuticle stick, a hand lotion that smells nice, a base coat, and…what color were you thinking?"

"I hadn't even thought about that," Kairi admitted.

"I could save you a trip to town and spending that money," Aerith told Jaune. "I have spares of all of that in my room. I have pretty much every color of polish, too, so you could pick out a couple."

"I thought you needed to stay back here and supervise," Jaune reminded her.

"Well, I can take a short break for this," Aerith stated. "Let's go!"

She, Jaune, and Kairi hurried out of the room.

"Are…they together now?" Ienzo wondered out loud. "Jaune and Kairi, I mean."

"They were when we spoke to them," Snatcher confirmed. "Assuming you mean romantically involved."

"Good," Ienzo said with a smile. "I was hoping. I know he can make her happy."

"Ah, young love," Jumba remarked. "You know, I once thought love such frivolous thing. Now am understanding its TRUE value. Am happy for warrior girl and blond boy."

"That sounds like you got somebody you love!" Goofy remarked.

"He mentioned it on the lift, remember?" Donald said harshly.

"Oh, right!" Goofy recalled. "I forgot."

"He is insufferable person," Jumba described. "Exact opposite of me in nearly every way. Knows how to argue like professional. But would move every last planet to make sure he stays safe and sound."

"Gosh, love sure is a beautiful thing," Mickey remarked.

"Blaaaargh," Stitch commented. "Mushy-gushy."

Leon made no remark.

A pop-up window informed Jumba of an error in his current process. "Oh, is that so?" he challenged the computer out loud. "Well, let's see how you react to THIS." Another few keystrokes. "Ahaaaa, I thought so!"

Stitch tugged on the hem of Snatcher's pant leg. "Had questions?"

Now was the time to keep Stitch distracted and separated from Garfield's group, Snatcher knew, and that hinged on him coming up with as many questions as he could about Stitch's story. "Begin by telling me more about homeworld," he kicked off. "What is hometown like? How is different from Radiant Garden?"

"Um…Kokaua Town on island," Stitch began, realizing Snatcher hadn't been there when he and the others had related this part of the story to the girls' day contingent. "No major cities. Hard to cause mass panic."

"Interesting thing to note," Snatcher remarked, "but go on."

...

It took several moments for anyone to muster the strength to say anything. Then Mozenrath, looking Hans dead in the eye, stated, "I should probably fix that."

Hans' right hand gently hovered over his puncture wound. "This?" he teased, though weakly. "I could barely feel it anymore."

Mozenrath passed his hand across Hans' face; he, Roman, Demyx, and Yzma dissipated momentarily before reforming in the positions they'd been in. Hans pulled himself up to his feet, dusting himself off.

Before Hans could say anything, Demyx yelled, "I will NEVER be ready for that!"

"Errrrr…Mozenrath?" Yzma said worriedly, looking toward the stone statue of Zevon, which hadn't reacted at all to Mozenrath's release of the magic that kept them all corporeal. "We may have a problem." Inwardly, her panic bells were beginning to ring; if her son was trapped forever in a prison of stone, she was going to be out for blood.

"Hold your horses," Wuya said as she pushed Yzma aside to get access to Zevon.

"Demyx," Mozenrath commanded while this went on. "Go fix Irmaplotz."

"All right, all right, I'm going," Demyx huffed, making his way to the unconscious princess.

Wuya pressed the pads of her fingers to Zevon's forehead, willing a spell to flow through them. Instantly, she felt the substance beneath her fingertips soften into skin. Starting from where she touched, the stone reverted to Zevon's natural colors and textures. His head was the first part of him to be fully returned as the spell worked its way slowly down his neck.

"Wuya?" he addressed, sounding slightly panicked. "I think I may have errorred with that potion, and I've just been immobilizated!"

"Calm down," Wuya said softly. "It's going to be okay."

Almost immediately, she felt a revulsion at the words that had just left her mouth. Choking back disgust, she wished she could turn and storm away from Zevon at that very moment, but that would leave him still more than half stone and unable to move. So she gritted her teeth and decided to live with her mistake.

Zevon read the discomfort on her face. "What's the problem?"

"Oh, nothing," Wuya growled. "I'm just losing what's left of my sanity, that's all."

She would never have said "Calm down; it's going to be okay" to Jack Spicer. The sentiment would have been closer to hoping he wouldn't be okay. She never would have said it to Chase Young, nor to Hannibal Roy Bean, nor Katnappé, nor Tubbimura, nor even Raimundo when she had taken him under her wing. The words still left a bad taste on her tongue, like overcooked Brussels sprouts. What was it about Zevon that had urged her to delve into such sentimentality?

"You were trying to comfortablize me!" Zevon realized.

Only stone from the waist down, Wuya reminded herself. Not much longer to go and she could terminate the interaction. "You didn't hear what you thought you heard."

"No, that was comfortablization!" Zevon insisted. "And I know exactly why!"

"Because I'm losing it," Wuya grunted. "I already emphasized that."

"It's because you're attractivated by my mother!" Zevon accused. "That makes you care about me!"

Was that really it? Had Zevon hit upon a hidden truth? Wuya didn't have the time or energy to think about it – or, most importantly, the will. The stone was retreating down Zevon's legs now. "Just forget it happened already."

"I think we both know I won't be forgettabling it anytime soon," Zevon taunted. "I'm just going to wait until the opportunate time to bring it back up. Such as the moment when you and my mother finally decide to stop fighting your emoticotions."

"Five," Wuya counted down. "Four…"

"What are you counting?" Zevon asked.

"Three," Wuya went on as the stone vanished from Zevon's feet, "two, one." She removed her hand; Zevon was now once more flesh, blood, hair, and bone. "You're done." She turned away from him.

"YOU CAN'T RUN FROM YOUR FEELINGS!" Zevon screamed at her back. He then remembered Clayton had smashed his flask against his chest; a few large shards of glass remained embedded there. Zevon plucked them all out; it stung, but nothing had penetrated further than skin-deep, and more damage had been done to his shirt than anything else.

Wuya's about-face brought her to look directly at Yzma. "You know I saw the whole thing," Yzma said smugly.

"And you're going to shut it about this," Wuya commanded, holding up a finger in Yzma's face.

Yzma gave a playful shrug. Wuya just walked past her, deciding to supervise Demyx's restoration of Irmaplotz's health.

In the meantime, Mozenrath gave Hans a serious look. "You keep putting yourself in harm's way for me," he pointed out. On a whim, he hovered his bare left hand over the place where Hans had been stabbed, then lightly, softly lay his fingertips over it.

"I guess I picked up a bad habit," Hans replied.

"Why do you keep doing that?" Mozenrath asked.

"I'm surprised you have to ask," Hans responded. "If you go down, we all go down. Any of us can die except you. That girl with the eyeliner said so. You're the only person on this team that can't be replaced, and once you're taken out of play, the rest of us don't have infinite chances anymore. Meanwhile, you can bring me back as many times as you want. It's not that complicated of logic."

"And yet I can't help but feel there's some kind of ulterior motive at play," Mozenrath said coyly, having a feeling he was closing in on Hans' game. He withdrew his hand, not wanting it to overstay its welcome.

"That almost sounds like you WANT there to be an ulterior motive at play," Hans replied, just as coy. "All right. I'll let you in on a little secret. I might just be impressed with your style. You're a take-charge person, and I like that. You move with a sort of flair, and I like that too. Maybe I'm protecting more than just our well-being. On the other side of the coin, I want to point out that you cut off a man's arm because, and I quote, you 'kind of liked' me. What do you have to say about that?"

"It doesn't speak for itself?" Mozenrath said with a sly smirk.

"I guess I walked into that," Hans figured. "Anyway, don't think it's going unappreciated."

"If I didn't know better," Mozenrath stated, "I'd think you were trying to flirt with me."

"You were the one who started this conversation," Hans reminded him. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to get me to flirt with you."

"I've already learned my lesson about flirting on the battlefield," Mozenrath stated, though given the gravity of the subject, his smirk didn't fade. "Don't read more into it than there is."

"Maybe you just learned you were flirting with the wrong person," Hans urged.

"I'll take it under consideration," Mozenrath decided, "but I can't promise I'll come out of it with the answer you want to hear."

"And you think there's an answer I want to hear."

"I suspected. And now I have it confirmed."

Hans nodded. "Smart, too. I'll let you keep thinking on it, then. Just let me know if you change your mind. Until then, I'm just going to keep making sure our enemies don't cut off the head of the operation."

"Don't think it's going unappreciated," Mozenrath told him.

After taking a look around to ascertain that all, Irmaplotz finally included, were healed from the damage they had taken, he announced, "We've made it three-quarters of the way. The final stretch should be easy."

"EASY?" Demyx repeated. "We didn't just get our butts kicked! We got TRAMPLED!"

"And yet we are all alive and we have three parts of the Triforce of Power," Mozenrath stated. "I'd call that a victory. If we did it three times, we can pull off a fourth. This time, however, I'd like to actually enter the field with a definitive PLAN. Not just a decision of who our best play is. An actual PLAN."

"Why do I get the feeling you've actually been drafting one?" Wuya asked.

"Because you've been around me long enough to know I have," Mozenrath told her. "Or at least I figured out something from observing our last skirmish. Everything would have gone a lot more easily if you'd shackled that spirit first."

"Oh, sure," Wuya groaned. "Just let me keep bearing the load of holding back the spirit AND cornering the general. Because so far, I'm the only one who's been able to do both, every single time."

"I'm aware of that," Mozenrath said flippantly. "That's why you're going to teach Irmaplotz how to make the chains: so you can focus on the general and ONLY the general."

"Now that could have merit," Wuya remarked.

"You really think I can do it?" Irmaplotz asked excitedly.

"You're almost there," Wuya informed her. "You just need a little more guidance."

"Can you pack that guidance into the duration of our trip to wherever-it-is?" Mozenrath tried to remember if Wuya had said the name of the last province at any point on their journey. He was fairly certain she had, and he felt he remembered it. "Ardane?"

"Ordon," Wuya corrected.

"Or both!" Irmaplotz broke in.

"You're a fast learner?" Wuya asked of Irmaplotz.

"After crash courses with my mother," Irmaplotz sighed, "I had to become one or get left behind for the vultures."

"Good," Wuya stated. "We'll begin on the road."

"Then let's go," Mozenrath said as he turned, cape sweeping, to walk down the path.

Wuya cleared her throat loudly.

"WHAT?" Mozenrath snapped, barely turning to address her.

Wuya pointed down the opposite direction of Mozenrath's walk. "It's that way."

After a moment of silence, Mozenrath turned and stalked down the proper path as though nothing had happened.

...

Jaune had set up a work area on a table in an interior lounge of the castle. Aerith had not only supplied the necessary tools and a rainbow of bottles of polish, but upon learning that this was a segment of a date, she had also taken it upon herself to dim the lights of the room and place lit candles, smelling faintly of the sea, on the various counters. Seawater was also the scent of lotion Aerith had handed over – a fresh bottle, untouched. It sat next to a bowl of warm, soapy water, a cuticle stick, and a file.

"I think that's everything we need," Jaune said after taking inventory of the items that lay out on the table.

Kairi was seated across from him, giving a nod of approval.

"Okay," Jaune decided. "So…can I see your hands?"

Kairi placed both hands, palms down, on the table.

"So first, we're going to make your nails even," Jaune announced. He gently took Kairi's right hand into his left, trying not to become nervous about the physical contact despite his heart deciding it belonged in his throat. "You actually have pretty good nails," he said after a visual survey. "Not that I didn't think you would. I just thought all the swordfighting would have chipped them more."

"I try to keep them cut down for that exact reason, actually," Kairi informed him. "I don't want one to break when I need to keep my grip."

"I've made that mistake," Jaune admitted. "Man, did that hurt. So now I keep mine down too. Anyway, there's maybe one rough patch, but…" He took up the file in his right hand. "That's easily taken care of."

With the utmost care, he gently rubbed the file over the uneven fingernail on Kairi's hand. "Did you think about colors?" he asked.

"Well, I got it down to two," she admitted. "Pink would go with everything I wear right now. But Madison, Genie, and I are still blue buddies, and I kind of wanted to show that off, too. The blue would also look good with the pink, just in more of a contrasting way. I just have to decide between pink and blue now. I'll have it figured out by the time we're ready."

"Hey, take all the time you need," Jaune told her. "Hang on – "

He dragged the bowl of warm, soapy water to the table's center, laying Kairi's right hand down in its comfort while he picked up her left to look for rough patches. "Just let that soak for a while," he said with a smile as he scanned the left nails.

"This is all a lot of work," Kairi said, looking at the array of equipment. "Are you sure this isn't too much work for you?"

"No; I like doing this, actually," Jaune said sincerely. "Especially on…well…on your hands…" His voice cracked.

"Thank you," Kairi replied.

Having filed two of Kairi's left-hand nails down to perfection, Jaune lay that hand down in the bowl. "So about the pink and blue," he suggested. "This is gonna sound a little crazy, but what if we alternated them? Every other one would be blue, and the rest would be pink. That way, you wouldn't have to pick. The only downside is it wouldn't look very professional."

"I don't really care about looking professional," Kairi admitted. "I think in times like this, it's important to remember to just have fun with the little things. And I think your idea is perfect. I'll take exactly that."

"Somehow, I thought you'd say that," Jaune replied with a nod. "Pink and blue it is. Okay, I think it's time."

He lifted both of her hands out of the bowl, laying them on the table before setting the bowl aside. "Now, this might hurt just a little bit," he warned, "especially if you don't do this a lot." He took up the cuticle stick.

"Okay," Kairi replied. "I don't think it'll be that bad. I trust you."

Slowly, carefully, Jaune maneuvered the stick to push back each of Kairi's cuticles, one by one. He looked to her eyes to make sure she wasn't in discomfort; she met his gaze with a sparkle. Onward they proceeded.

...

Xayide made her way through the warship with little sense of direction, knowing she was headed somewhere but not entirely sure where, or what she hoped to accomplish once she got there. She opened the door to the room with the dancefloor and stage, sweeping grandly inside. She willed the door shut behind her with magic, not paying too much attention to her familiar surroundings until –

"Xayide?"

She needed a moment to fully realize who stood in the center of the room. The name left her lips in a rush of air, as though she'd had it knocked out of her by a solid punch: "Bastian?"

Bastian Balthazar Bux replied enthusiastically, "It's me! I'm so glad I found you! I was looking everywhere!"

"You were?" She knew she had to test the waters carefully. "For what purpose?"

"I've decided to return to Fantastica and become its savior again," Bastian announced. "I need you to be my advisor again. You're the only one who can help me."

Wickedly, she smiled. "I would be honored to join you once more," she stated. Of course, she would have to inform the rest of the WHAM ARMY of this new mission, but perhaps she could get one of them to tag along. This time, they would do it right.

"I've already thought of some changes I can make to improve the stories that come from Fantastica," Bastian announced. "I'm excited to make them. I can make everyone's lives so much better!"

Xayide well knew that anything Bastian decreed as a story told in Fantastica would come true there. She briefly wondered if that applied to other Realms of Storytelling or the space between them; most of all, she wondered if his decrees would apply to her if she was away from the world she called home. Something in her heart told her she was not exempt, no matter where she was. And this came along with a sense of creeping dread, though her logical mind didn't see why this should matter.

"Tell me," Xayide bade him, "what will be your first order?"

"I know now that I have to be careful," Bastian told her. "I'm playing with an entire world, and I have to do what's best for it. Then I realized what could make everyone's lives easier, and it would make things better for anyone who read their stories, too. They would be less afraid. They would be able to read about happier worlds."

Xayide should have known then that something was amiss. Bastian Balthazar Bux relished tales of adventure and horror; he would never be concerned that such stories would be too scary for everyone (though he would acknowledge that not every story was suitable for every reader, and discretion should be used in selection). But Xayide did not realize this. She simply reveled in the fact that Bastian was still fooled by her after all this time; he was a fly in her web. "Tell me," she demanded once more.

Then he said the words that changed everything: "I've decided to get rid of villains."

Horror overtook Xayide; chills ran through every inch of her skin. "Why?" she asked, voice quavering. "Why would you do that?"

"I already told you," Bastian explained. "Without villains, everyone's lives would be happier, and people would be happier hearing about stories where nothing goes – "

She didn't let him finish, interrupting with a shriek of "WHAT HAVE YOU DOOOOOOOONE?"

The sensations were already coursing through her body as she bent, clutching her head, tearing at her scarlet hair. For a moment, she did not even feel as though she had a human body, and was something else entirely – threads were coming unbound at her spine, allowing loose-leaf paper, the stuff of her anatomy, to pour out through her open chest and blow away on the winds.

She was falling, then, through an abyss of white and cream, skin brushing up against the texture of paper, thousands and thousands of pages, where it was exposed by her gown. Still screaming, she reached upward, thinking she could see something at the very edge of the blank-page miasma. But it was in vain, for as she looked at her hand, she could see the edges of her fingers, then her hand, then her whole arm dissolve into glimmering golden ribbons that scattered and were lost. It would not be long before the rest of her body shared the same fate.

...

But as all the others had done before her, despite her having no knowledge of such events transpiring, Xayide awoke in her own bed.

She stretched out her hands above her, turning them over and flexing the fingers. Clapping them together proved they were solid. Obviously, villains still existed.

She truly thought about it from Bastian's perspective, then, and realized what a fool she'd been. Bastian saw villains as obstacles to overcome and make heroes stronger. The fouler the villain, the sweeter the victory. They were spices to flavor tales. Perhaps other visitors to Fantastica would think differently, but not Bastian. She had only gotten so close to him in the first place by letting him think he had bested her, the infamous witch of Horok.

She had best lay down and go back to sleep, she thought. But as she lay still upon her mattress, the images she'd seen and the sensations she'd felt in her dream unnerved her. Dreams were their own sort of stories, and that gave them a meaning.

So she slid out of bed, dressing herself for daily tasks. Perhaps she should inquire around the ship and see if any missions were being planned. With that goal in mind, Xayide exited her apartment.

...

When Jasmine entered Faron's view, Faron was in the midst of breaking the last chain Wuya had left upon him. Once it snapped, he turned his attention on the intruder, watching her every move.

Jasmine launched into the charade right away, making a big show of fainting as though she had been affected by heat or dehydration. If Faron wasn't going to give her a reason, he could draw his own conclusion about why she was unmoving on the ground. She waited there, eyes closed, hand gripping the sword hilt at her waist.

Faron took one look at her and decided he didn't need to get any closer. His tail whipped outward, lifting Jasmine into the air and launching her across the clearing.

She regained her bearings in the nick of time, twisting about in the air and landing so that her feet skidded on the ground; she toppled forth and caught herself with both arms planted firmly on the grass. "Well," she muttered, "time for plan B."

The word "HELP!" was spelled out in the sky with bones; then Stork and Papyrus dropped from the tree where they'd been hiding, landing to either side of Jasmine. Faron was winding up the pitch of the first orb.

Papyrus threw his hands outward; a solid wall of bones sprang up around Jasmine and Stork, glowing a faint blue. The orb ricocheted off the wall and smacked right back into Faron. The wall, built to be all-protective, obstructed the trio's view of Faron; they didn't see him reel when the orb bounced right back and collided with him. Instead, they waited behind the wall for the others to arrive.

"Is there something we can do now?" Jasmine wondered out loud.

"I'M NOT SURE," Papyrus replied. "THIS KIND OF SEEMS LIKE A SITUATION WHERE TEN PEOPLE ARE REQUIRED."

"WHAT did I say?" Stork growled. "I said don't say it's going to be easy from here on! But you all did it anyway! And guess what! NOW IT'S NOT EASY!"

"I don't think us calling it easy had anything to do with it," Jasmine pointed out.

The walls were vibrating hard as Faron whipped his tail against them over and over again, but they did not yield. Finally, from close by, the voices of Sora, Ruby, and Link rang out in unison, calling out, "WE'RE HERE!"

"WALLS GOING DOWN!" Papyrus announced.

The barrier of bones dropped; Sora, Riku, Ruby, Link, Midna, Zelda, Aladdin, and Katara caught up to the advance party. "JASMINE!" Sora yelled, putting out his empty hands to either side – he held no Keyblade. "STORK! LET'S DRIVE!"

Sora ran right between the pair he addressed. As he did so, Jasmine grasped his left hand and Stork his right. The three were engulfed in light, and when it cleared, Sora's clothes had taken on more of a blue-green pattern. The Kingdom Key floated to his side as his left hand grasped Three Wishes and his right hand clutched Divewing. The Master Sword was sheathed at his belt. Putting both Keyblades in his hands together – the third followed – Sora generated a cannon of Light between them, blasting Faron directly.

Faron reeled back, now quite angered. He spun around, his tail making a full sweep over the clearing.

"WIND!" Sora cried; his increased power allowed him to cast Aero beneath himself and the rest of his companions, lifting them all up high over the flinging tail. When Faron settled back still, he stumbled, seeming tipsy.

"I think that Light threw him off!" Ruby declared.

"That's a powerful spirit to be dizzied up by a little Light," Midna pointed out. "Did you do anything else?"

"NO," Papyrus told her. "I JUST MADE A DEFENSIVE WALL AROUND US TO PROTECT US ALL UNTIL THE REST OF YOU ARRIVED. THEN AGAIN, FARON DID THROW SOMETHING AT US."

Another orb sailed through the air; Ruby cut it neatly to pieces with Crescent Rose.

"Something like that?" Midna pointed out.

"YES!" Papyrus responded. "EXACTLY LIKE THAT!"

Midna turned to address Link; "I think he got hit with a taste of his own medicine! I can use the Fused Shadow to make it happen again, but – "

Sora used another round of Aero, fueled by Stork and Jasmine, to lift the group over another attack from the tail.

"But you're going to have to do something about that tail!" Midna concluded.

"I got it!" Link said with a nod. He rushed to Sora, calling out his name.

Sora knew what he wanted. He gave Three Wishes a toss into the air; as it flipped round and round above his head, he drew the Master Sword and passed it to Link with a "Here!". No sooner had the sword traded hands than Three Wishes came back down to rest in Sora's hand.

"Everyone!" Link yelled. "STOP THAT TAIL!"

"ON IT!" Ruby screamed, dropping Crescent Rose to the ground to barrel at Faron. All but Midna followed suit.

Midna, in the meantime, let the Fused Shadow take over; she rippled and expanded, sprouting extra limbs and turning translucent until she was once more the vaguely spider-shaped beast with a helmete head.

Ruby leapt into the air; she landed less than gracefully on Faron's tail. Sora, still bearing Stork and Jasmine within him, followed. Then Aladdin. Then Riku. Then Papyrus, Katara, and Zelda. Then, finally, Link. They clutched onto Faron's tail like a line of bracelets.

They hadn't counted on Faron being stronger than all of them. He whipped his tail up and about, trying to shake them off by flinging it rapidly. The heroes clinging on yelped from the sudden motion.

Except for Riku, who yelled, "Well, THIS was a good idea!"

Midna let out a very small sigh. She had come to love and respect all of her friends and traveling companions, and would consider none of them stupid, but this moment was admittedly very deserving of a small sigh.

Faron proved to be good at multi-tasking. He bowled an orb of Darkness toward Midna to try and strike her down. She caught it in one hand, weighing it up and down to show how meaningless it was to her. Faron, not having learned his lesson, pitched a second; Midna caught it in another hand. Now Faron thought to try something different, flinging his tail – still laden with people who could now not let go without risking being launched into the air – at Midna. She backpedaled, nearly stumbling and dropping the two orbs she held.

Ruby kept her eye all the while on the spot where she'd dropped Crescent Rose. That attack brought her close, and she swept the scythe up into her hand. Using only her legs to hold onto Faron's tail, she plunged the blade into the ground, digging it deep into the dirt to try and slow Faron.

Knowing a good idea when they saw one, Riku and Link plunged their own blades into the earth. Sora dug both Three Wishes and Divewing in; the Kingdom Key followed suit based on his will.

Now Faron's tail was truly pinned in place. He struggled for a moment to pry it up before aiming his next orb of Darkness at those who held onto it. Midna's reach was quick to intercept the orb; now three of her six limbs were occupied. Faron, in a determined rage, chucked another sphere at Midna's helmet; Midna's hand flew fast. Now she held four of the spheres.

"GET DOWN!" Link yelled, realizing what Midna was about to do. Faron's tail was close enough to the ground that everyone was able to exit it without hurting themselves; they bolted away at top speed, Jasmine and Stork separating from Sora in the process.

Midna plunged all four orbs at Faron in concert. Once struck with that much Dark energy, Faron collapsed, still healthy but very woozy.

Link stepped in, placing the Master Sword's blade flat on Faron's face. Once he had done so, the light broke through the Twilight above, illuminating Faron just as the light began to seep over the monkey's body.

It happened as it had done twice before. Faron transformed from Darkness into Light, and the Twilight gave way to bright blue skies that highlighted every color of the wood – the greens of the leaves, the dirt of the disturbed earth. Once the very tip of Faron's tail had returned to Light, Link lowered the blade. Midna, in the meantime, folded back down into her natural form.

"Young hero," Faron said in the same deliberate tone his kin had used, "this is not the first time you have had such a difficult task as returning one like me to a natural state. I can already tell what has happened to Lanayru and Eldin. For what you have done, I thank you. The rest, you already know. You are by now no doubt certain of what you must do to save Ordona."

Link simply nodded emphatically.

"Ordon is your home," Faron pointed out. "This battle will be the most personal for you."

"I know we can do it," Link asserted. "We've already come this far."

"Take that strength of heart and use it in the battles to come," Faron advised. "Ordon may not give you so much trouble now that you have been through three of us. But you have yet to deal with the one who altered our state."

"We'll be ready!" Link declared.

Zelda stepped forth. "Pardon my intrusion," she began.

"It was no intrusion," Faron responded.

"We found you unguarded," Zelda recalled. "Has Prince Hans passed by? Is he the reason?"

"He was, in fact," Faron informed her, "but he was grievously wounded in the battle. Yet onward he pressed."

Zelda gasped, pressing both hands to her mouth.

"We really owe that guy," Sora remarked. "We gotta be sure to thank him when we find him."

"THANK him?" Stork repeated. "It sounds like we need to SAVE him! What if he doesn't survive the next battle, hmm?"

"Well, he still got up and went there," Ruby pointed out. "I don't think he'd do that without a plan."

"I'm still concerned," Katara broke in. "We might have to find him before the next one of Maleficent's people does. What if we're already too late?"

"We have to go," Stork insisted. "Now."

"Then go," Faron said stoically before retreating into the waves of the spring.

The contingent assembled, then picked up into a proper jog, hoping to get to Ordona's spring in enough time to catch Hans. Still, it occurred to them that if they hadn't caught up with him thus far, he would be out of their reach once more.

"I know what you're thinking," Midna stated. "And what we're doing is better than nothing, so stop thinking too hard about it."

"At least now we have a better strategy for defeating the spirits," Katara pointed out.

"THAT'S RIGHT!" Papyrus declared. "THAT SHOULD MAKE FACING ORDONA – "

Stork interrupted him by loudly clearing his throat with an "EH-AHEM."

"VERY, VERY DIFFICULT," Papyrus concluded. "NOT EASY AT ALL. NO."

...

Xerxes was the product of layer upon layer of enchantment. There was no one single spell holding him together. Different enchantments had enabled him to speak, to fly, to survive out of water.

It seemed impossible that all of them should fail at once. But that was what had happened.

Xerxes plummeted, midflight, to the floor, no longer able to keep aloft. He flopped uselessly, hoping for some miracle to put him back right. Then he realized the bigger problem.

He couldn't breathe.

No longer was air palatable. He needed water, but was distant from any source of it. He attempted to burble a cry for help; perhaps someone would hear him and carry him out of this plight. But his capability for speech was utterly gone, just like the rest of the magic that had allowed him to carry on.

He could feel the pressure building in his gills. If he didn't get to water soon, he would die. He made a flop two inches down the hallway. Then another. It was slow going, but he had to try something. If only someone would come along!

But there was no help to be had. Xerxes forced himself to keep flopping, keep bouncing, all as his skin parched and his vision blurred until all he saw was black.

...

Then he realized all he had to do was open his eyes.

Xerxes had been curled up, asleep, on a couch in one of the lounges. He cried out in panic, shooting up into the air and zooming in circles before it occurred to him that all of the spells that gave him his abilities were in perfect working order and what he'd experienced was merely a bad dream.

But he was in quite a panic, and he needed company in order to shake the fear he'd just experienced. Mozenrath was out of the base, so that was no good. Who else could he go to? And, more pertinently, where would they be?

The laboratory wing seemed to be a gathering place, Xerxes figured, whether it was for people seeking answers, trying to sabotage Vexen, or watching Yzma work. True, Vexen and Yzma were both absent, but perhaps it was still fair game to look there and see if someone was about.

Without wasting another second, Xerxes sped forth from the lounge on a mission to find someone, anyone else.

...

"Okay," Sadira proclaimed, holding up a necklace with a dark blue stone inset. "What do you think of this one?"

"I think that highlights what you're wearing and your natural complexion perfectly!" Pleakley responded.

"Not for me," Sadira said with a shake of her head. "For you, silly!"

The group Garfield had pulled together was, as planned, making a stop for Sadira and Pleakley to get shopping out of their system in the midst of the tour of the city.

"Me?" Pleakley repeated, somewhat surprised. "Well, it does have an appealing sparkle to it. I'd say it's up to standard."

"Up to standard?" Sadira repeated. "Does that mean you LIKE it, or does that mean you LOVE it?"

"Well, it's hard to form an attachment to a piece I've only just seen for the first time right now," Pleakley mused, "but the more I look at it, the more I think I really, REALLY like it!"

"But now versus this one," Sadira proposed, holding up a necklace with an orange stone.

Pleakley shook his head. "I've worn out the orange look. It wouldn't look bad on you, but take it from me, the blue would be a lot better."

"Sold." Sadira turned to the vendor from which she'd picked up the items for display. "I'll take two of these," she told him, handing over the necklace of blue.

"Two?" Pleakley was confused.

"Two," Sadira confirmed. "One for me, one for you."

Pleakley found himself blushing. "We've just met. You really don't have to get me any sort of gift."

"It's my money," Sadira asserted, "and I want to. Now, how about the matching bracelet?"

"I'm not going to approve of you getting me any more unwarranted gifts!" Pleakley folded his arms.

"That means you like it," Sadira deduced. She added a pair of the bracelets to the pile. "Two of these. And let's add…I don't know how to ask this without being rude, but do you even have ears, Pleakley?"

"No," Pleakley replied. "Not the kind with lobes, anyway."

"Is that true, or are you just saying that so I won't spring for your earrings?"

"I swear it's true!"

Sadira dropped a pair of blue earrings onto the pile. "Just one set of these."

The vendor withdrew a box in which to pack the accessories, but Sadira told him, "I'll actually just wear mine right away." Turning to her companion, she asked, "What about you?"  
"That does sound appealing right now," Pleakley admitted. "No box will be necessary."

Together, Pleakley and Sadira donned necklaces, bracelets, and earrings. As the vendor observed them, he pointed out, "You know, those do all have high Blizzard resistance."

"More importantly, they look good," Sadira stated.

"Blizzard resistance?" Pleakley asked. "What does that mean, anyway?"

"It means they help protect you from getting frozen with ice magic," Sadira answered.

"Ice magic!" Pleakley repeated. "Fascinating! I'd like to know more about the types of magic you encounter on this world." He and Sadira moved away from the vendor's counter to rejoin their group. "But first, you do realize that I owe you for those gifts."

"You owe me nothing," Sadira insisted. "You've seriously been the only person who I could actually have fun with about this. And you don't even know how happy it makes me to be able to buy my friends gifts instead of having to just steal things for myself."

"STEAL things?" Pleakley was taken aback.

Sadira gave a short, nervous laugh. "I did mention I had a bit of a past, didn't I?"

"You mentioned that," Pleakley told her, "but I didn't think it involved stealing." He quickly held up both hands. "I'm not going to judge! I used to be on the run from the law myself, you know."

"Can I ask what for?" Sadira inquired.

"Failing to comply with Galactic Council procedures and complete an assignment regarding a security threat," Pleakley answered. "Which turned into aiding and abetting a known criminal."

"Whoa," Sadira reacted.

"It gets better," Pleakley went on. "I proceeded to move in with the known criminal. Which wasn't technically illegal, but just goes to prove my point that I'm not going to judge."

"Thanks," Sadira replied. "You won't be getting any judgment from me either. On anything."

"Good to know," Pleakley told her.

While the two of them were deep in conversation, Lilo had found a kindred spirit of her own. It had begun when Nora, thinking of her team, asked about Lilo's friends from school.

"I don't actually have that many," Lilo admitted. "Just Victoria. And Keoni, but he's not really from school. But most of the others in my class make fun of me."

"Why would anybody make fun of you?" Nora asked, bewildered. "You're really neat!"

"They think I'm weird," Lilo sighed. "It's because I like scary movies, I dress up as monsters on Halloween instead of princesses, I read books about obscure nonfictional topics like plastic surgery procedures, and just a lot of things that aren't normal."

"Well, I'm here to tell you that being normal is no fun at all!" Nora proclaimed. "Being weird is the BEST! Especially being loud, being strong, singing at random times, booping people's noses…it's just all a lot of fun! And all your REAL friends will like you BECAUSE you're weird. I bet when you grow up, you're gonna get lots of friends who think you're awesome!"

"I'm not in a hurry," Lilo reassured her. "I have Stitch, and I have the rest of my family. So long as we're together, it doesn't really matter that I don't have a lot of friends outside of them. Hey, wait a minute. All that stuff you said just now. Was that because people think YOU'RE weird?"

"You got it!" Nora flashed Lilo a smile and a wink. "People used to make fun of me a lot too. Though when I was your age, it was more about me being homeless and an orphan and not able to take regular showers…eh, that's all in the past. But once I learned how to be myself, oh, boy, that's when people started saying I was too loud and crazy. All except for Ren. Ren was kinda like my Stitch. We didn't need anybody else so long as we had each other. But then we got to Beacon Academy, where all sorts of people came and had their own weirdness, and things just got a lot better. And that's why I think things are gonna get better for you!"

"For the record, I like that you're loud," Yuffie broke in. "And I don't think you're crazy. If anybody says that, though, let me know so I can break their nose."

"Like I won't have already broken their nose myself," Nora teased. Then, seriously, to Lilo, "Don't break people's noses."

"My sister's had to tell me that more than once," Lilo sighed. "What about you, Yuffie? Do people think you're weird?"

"Nope!" Yuffie said proudly. "Everyone's dying to talk to me!"

"I believe that!" Nora replied.

Meanwhile, Garfield had managed to get Moana in a position where he could extract information from her. "It sounds like you have to deal with a lot of problems here," he brought up.

"It's not a LOT of problems," Moana told him. "All we really have to deal with are Maleficent's schemes and whatever Mozenrath is doing. Well, and that time Dilan betrayed us. And that 'Xehanort' person that's somewhere out there. And that 'Cinder' person Ruby is trying to follow. Okay, so that sounds like a lot of problems."

"No kidding," Garfield replied, trying to figure out how he could isolate the part of the statement that really mattered. "How do you stay on top of it all?"

"By working together," Moana answered. "That's why Dilan tried to hard to split us apart. Because we've been able to overcome all kinds of things together. It's the biggest reason Maleficent hasn't won yet."

"What about those other guys?" Garfield asked.

"Well, there's Mozenrath," Moana brought up, "but it sounds like he's kind of a joke. We have a squad dedicated to going after him, and they basically take care of that."

"So he's somewhere on this world too," Garfield said, deliberately getting it wrong in order to draw out an answer he sought.

"Actually, he and his goons travel around to all different worlds," Moana explained. "We're not exactly sure what he wants, but we're doing our best to keep up with him."

There it was: the opening. "How do even know where to find him if he keeps picking different worlds?"

"Well, Sadira helped build a magic hourglass that answers questions," Moana explained. "It's one of those symbolic answer things, but it's been right every time so far."

"So you can basically spy on him wherever he goes," Garfield realized.

"Basically, yeah!" Moana asserted.

The rest of the WHAM ARMY wasn't going to like that, Garfield thought in dismay. "So, uh…tell me more about the other guy. Xenahort."

"Xehanort," Moana corrected. "I made that mistake too when I first got here. I think everyone does."

It was then that Pleakley and Sadira caught up with the group, and Yuffie resumed walking to the next sight to see as conversations about all manner of things continued. All the while, Garfield kept a hand on his pocket. At any moment, his scroll was about to vibrate, alerting him to the time that events should be set in motion.

...

A chain burst from the ground, snaking toward a tree, where a solid metal cuff erupted from it and encircled the tree's trunk. It locked with a distinct click.

"How was that?" Irmaplotz asked.

Wuya approached the chain, tapping it. "Solid construction," she observed. "But let's see how much magic it can stand up to this time." She seized it in both hands, feeding burning energy into her grip. Sparks flew from the place where her skin touched the metal, and it took a full minute for her to be able to break the chain. "Now that's improvement," she remarked. "That should hold Ordona for a while."

"What kind of spirit is this Ordona, anyway?" Demyx asked. "We had a snake, a giant bird, and a monkey. What's next?"

"Ordona is a variety of goat often herded in the villages," Wuya explained.

This brought out a loud groan from Mozenrath. "NOT A GOAT," he exclaimed.

"You have some kind of problem with goats?" Wuya prodded.

"Imagine being a child in the Agrabanian marketplace," he sighed, "not yet having acquired any magical power whatsoever, and being directly in the line of attack for a herd of goats that have just escaped the pen of their traveling merchant. If there is one creature I cannot stand, it's a goat."

"I would've thought you'd harbor a greater contempt for Thirdacs," Yzma brought up.

Mozenrath thought it over. "I'll amend that. There are two types of creature I cannot stand, and it's goats and Thirdacs."

"Well, you can rest your pretty little worrying head about it," Roman broke in, "because this time, I'm going to make sure things do NOT go as badly as the last three times. You could say I have this in the bag." He held up a sack he had collected from the bomb shop and had been wearing around his waist. "Literally. Check this out." He withdrew a bomb that seemed bigger than the bag it had been carried in. "What's this? It appears to be a bomb! But wait!" He dipped into the bag again, pulling out… "Another bomb! And there's more!" He scooped three more bombs out of the bag. "How do these bombs all FIT in this bag? It's practically infinite bombs!"

"We've all seen an enchanted purse before," Wuya sighed. "Put them back."

"So that's your big plan, huh?" Hans asked as Roman replaced all of the explosives in their container. "Bombs. I can't believe we didn't think of that earlier. You did have those last time, after all. You'd think that would have been the time to actually use them."

"Your mockery ends after this battle," Roman vowed. "I just got unlucky the last three times. But this time, I'm feeling pretty good."

"Ten munny says the goat runs him over right away," Demyx chuckled.

"I'll take that bet," Mozenrath replied, "and I'll raise it to twenty. Twenty munny says he doesn't get trampled by the goat at all."

"I don't think he'll be trampled by the goat," Hans asserted.

Roman began, "So you DON'T think I'm a complete and total – "

"I think Maleficent's henchperson is going to shoot him in the head before the goat even gets a good look at him," Hans finished. "And I'll raise it to twenty-five."

"Twenty-five says neither of those things happens," Mozenrath countered.

"Make it thirty!" Yzma announced. "Thirty munny on Roman Torchwick escaping the battle unharmed!"

"You two are good friends," Roman stated. "This is what good friendship is supposed to look like right here. This is why the core members of the WHAM ARMY are so – "

"I'll put forty on the goat," Wuya interrupted.

"WUYA!" Roman barked.

"I'm going with Maleficent's henchperson getting him," Irmaplotz volunteered, "but I'm not raising it any higher."

"I'm making my own bet!" Zevon announced. "Roman Torchwick gets shot in the head by Maleficent's generalizater, then gets trampollinated by the goat immediatively after!"

"You're all on," Mozenrath said with a smirk.

"Hey, you know what?" Roman threw in. "I'm putting FIFTY on me making it out unscathed. Because, contrary to what some of you think, I'm NOT a complete ass."

"In the competency sense, anyway," Yzma brought up.

"That is a fair point," Roman conceded.

Ordona's spring was a wide pool of shallow water surrounded by a low rock wall that kept it fenced in; the eight paused before entry. "We have no idea what we're about to face in there," Mozenrath announced, "but this time, we have a semblance of a plan. Irmaplotz, you're in charge of stopping the goat from Tartarus from stomping us into paste. Especially Torchwick, because I don't feel like coughing up fifty munny."

"How about because you love me?" Roman teased.

Mozenrath gave him a sarcastic glare. "Anyway," he went on, "while that's going on, the demon beast is probably going to be firing Dark attacks at us left and right. So far, the only thing we've seen actually work on stopping those attacks besides Wuya is Demyx's power over water. So, Demyx, I am foolishly putting my trust in you being able to shield us with that water whenever an attack gets loosed. Can you do this one very simple job?"

"As offended as I feel that you're talking down to me," Demyx admitted, "I'm just kinda happy you gave me a job that's technically easy."

"That brings us to Zevon," Mozenrath went on. "If I remember correctly, you have one potion left. What is it?"

"It's the one that packs the most powerful punch," Zevon announced, "which is why I was saving it for last!" He held up a flask in which an iridescent liquid shimmered. "Fireworks in a bottle! Once I break the flask, it will unleashen a conflaguration of kaleidoscope-ical explosionations!"

"So we have that card to play – " Mozenrath began.

"You weren't listening," Zevon interrupted. "I said I was saving it for LAST."

"And this isn't the last battle?" Mozenrath sighed. "There are four spirits. This is the fourth. I didn't realize you were as bad with numbers as you were with words."

"But we're going to combattle Ganondorf and Cinder once Wuya has the Triforce of Power," Zevon recalled. "THAT is a situating that requirementals fireworks in a bottle."

Mozenrath was in no mood to admit he'd forgotten about that. "I was leaving that one to Wuya."

"Ganondorf is mine," Wuya asserted. "Cinder is a problem for the rest of you. And that's assuming they don't have any more backing them up."

"We don't need to be strategizing for THAT fight!" Yzma hissed. "We just need to be strategizing for THIS one!"

"So, to go over it again," Mozenrath recapitulated, "Irmaplotz, you chain up the demon beast. Demyx, you stop it from blasting any of us. Torchwick, put those bombs to good use, and don't put me out fifty munny."

"Can I change my bet?" Demyx asked. "I actually think he's going to blow himself up."

"Now you're giving me NO credit," Roman growled.

"Bet accepted," Wuya stated. "My munny is still on the goat."

"Wuya, whatever Maleficent sent, it's now yours," Mozenrath concluded. "The rest of us will provide backup as necessary in either area. There's also the possibility that more insects will be involved, so prepare for that, and for the love of Ahriman, Demyx, have your sitar in your hand when you walk onto the field!"

The musical instrument bubbled into solid form. "Got it," Demyx said with a grin.

"If we're all clear," Mozenrath proclaimed, "then let's go take the last piece of the Triforce."

The group needed no further cue to break up and proceed walking through the entryway to the Ordon Province spring.

Each had a different feeling of who would be awaiting them once they walked into the confines of the spring. Mozenrath was not looking forward to seeing Qilby again, and had thereby figured that the multiverse hated him enough to put Qilby there. Wuya didn't let it show, but the thought of running into Dr. Facilier put her on edge. If Roman saw the Joker, he was simultaneously prepared to punch him in the face and to run like his life depended on it, which it probably would. Yzma hoped she wouldn't find herself on the business end of the Dark Ace's inferno blade. What actually waited them, however, was a surprise none of them had expected.

The reason being that only one of the eight actually knew who it was.

The silver-haired youth burst out into laughter as the group walked closer to where he stood in the center of the spring. "How did I get this lucky?" he chortled. "She TOLD me about you. I KNEW you were running around out there trying not to trip over your own feet while you made a name for yourself. I didn't think you'd actually waltz right up to me so I could shoot you in the face!"

"Have…we met?" Mozenrath asked, perplexed.

"No," the young man said with a wicked smirk. "Not you." He pointed directly at Roman Torchwick. "Him."

"Pleasure to see you as always, Black," Roman spat sarcastically.

"I love you too, Roman," Mercury Black responded. "Also, why am I back to 'Black'? What happened to 'Merc'? I liked it when you called me 'Merc.' You remember the one night you did."

"Only because I haven't been able to bleach it out of my subconscious yet," Roman growled.

"Am I picking up bitter ex vibes?" Hans muttered quietly.

"I'm not entirely sure," Mozenrath responded in a low tone, "but I think this is the associate Roman had a one-night stand with. And also hates."

"So you're running with Maleficent now?" Roman spat. "That's surprising. I thought she actually had a quality standard."

"I work for Salem," Mercury responded, "who made a partnership with Maleficent. They're pretty good company over there. It beats having to put up with just Tyrian, Watts, Hazel, and Cinder all day. Some of those guys actually know how to party."

"What, no Green?" Roman observed.

"Emerald…is none of your business," Mercury spat. "So what's your excuse? Because while I'm playing with the big boys, you, for some reason, are splashing around in the kiddie pool."

"Yeah, you wouldn't be wearing that stupid smirk if you saw what we did to the last three guys," Roman replied.

"One of them was a girl," Irmaplotz broke in.

"Be quiet, sweetie," Roman told her. "The grown-ups are talking. No, wait, one grown-up is talking to a man-child."

"And that man-child never stopped wearing that stupid hat," Mercury taunted.

Demyx leaned in to Hans' other side to whisper, "I almost feel bad for roasting him so bad earlier."

"Are you serious?" Hans whispered back.

"Emphasis on the 'almost,'" Demyx clarified.

"Listen, Black," Roman growled, feeling a spark ignite within him. "Even though you're younger, less experienced, and way, WAY dumber than me, the fact is, plain and simple, that in the past, whenever we crossed paths, you were always the one talking down to me. You were Cinder's golden child, and, by that logic, you were Salem's golden child. To them, I was a piece of trash they picked up before they realized they had an actual useful tool on their hands. But even then, I was just a tool."

"You were a tool, all right," Mercury laughed.

"Every time," Roman growled, a force within him picking up ever more momentum, "you lorded your power over me. Every time I wanted to punch your fucking face in, you blew the whistle and Mommy flew in to save you, and I knew damn well I couldn't do SHIT. Every time I put so much as a toe out of line, you tightened the collar!"

"Every time except one," Mercury reminded him. "That was all your idea. I even let you take the lead."

"And now I'm starting to think you only said yes because you knew you could hold it over my head later!" Roman retorted.

"I said yes because you're hot," Mercury clarified. "That's actually about all you have going for you."

"Yeah, well, looking back, I had no taste in men," Roman huffed. "I've traded up since you."

"This is definitely the one-night stand," Mozenrath confirmed to Hans.

"Traded up to what?" Mercury asked. "It doesn't get much better than me, lover boy."

"You KNOW what – " Roman gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stop right there. "We're getting off topic. The point is, in the past, every time you said jump, I had to ask how high. But things are different now, Black. Because I'm not in Salem's pocket anymore. Now, I'm the one talking down to YOU. I don't ANSWER to you or any of your bosses anymore. You don't get to be my White Hats. I'm free now. Free to work with people I actually like. Free to chase after the dream I want to chase after. So blow the whistle all you want; I'm not gonna roll over, play dead, or shake hands this time. YOU DON'T HAVE ANY POWER OVER ME ANYMORE." He raised the Cudgel, pointing it at Mercury's head. "So FUCK OFF!"

"Wow," Mercury said in mock awe, shaking his head. "That was some speech, Roman. It almost moved me to tears. You just forgot about one part."

"Oh yeah?" Roman egged on. "What the FUCK did I forget here?"

Mercury stomped on the ground once, his foot sending up a splash. Behind him, an enormous goat composed completely of Darkness emerged from the spring, horns first; those horns connected in a circle at the top of their arc, and within the circle, an orb of Darkness swirled and spun. Ordona pawed the ground in anticipation.

"You think I don't have any power over you because you don't work for me?" Mercury threw back to Roman. "What about the power I have over you because I can kick your ass? I have a spirit of Darkness on my side, and also some pretty sweet skills you can't even hope to match. Put that together with the track record my team has over your cheerleaders and see what you come up with." He scratched his head in a gesture of mockery. "I feel like I'm forgetting something…oh, yeah." He lowered his hand, fixing his gaze dead on Roman's eye. "You can't even win a fight against a KID."

"Black, so help me, shut the fuck up – "

"Look at me!" Mercury taunted in a high-pitched voice. "I'm Roman Torchwick! I wear a fancy hat and I get beaten up by little girls!"

"WELL, FUCK YOU TOO!"

Roman and Mercury had the same idea at the same time. Roman pulled the trigger on the Cudgel at the same time that Mercury dropped to the ground, spinning in what looked to the untrained eye like a breakdance move. Roman's ammunition sailed right over Mercury, exploding against Ordona's chest and agitating him into stomping his front hooves. When Mercury's leg swung to point at Roman, there was the sound of a gunshot. Unlike Roman's, Mercury's shot had hit its mark.

Roman, realizing where he'd been hit, let out a cry of anguish.

Wuya, Mozenrath, and Yzma immediately hustled forward, ready to make Mercury pay for the injury he'd dealt their friend. As they glanced over at Roman to see exactly what that injury was, however, they found him unharmed. Roman reached shakingly up to the top of his head, where he peeled off the remains of what had been his hat – now a charred piece of fabric blown open to let his orange hair spill out.

"You…" Roman squeaked, holding what had once been a quite fine hat in his hands. "You knew…there were two things you don't EVER do to me if you don't want to die." His voice took on a sudden sharp edge. "AND YOU JUST FUCKING DID ONE OF THEM!"

"Two?" Mercury said with sudden interest as he rose to full height. "I thought the hat was the only one. Is there a new way to get your goat?" After a pause, he chuckled. "Haha. Goat. I didn't do that on purpose, but I'm glad I did it anyway."

Roman realized Mercury didn't know the full distance he was willing to go if anyone threatened Archibald Snatcher. And it was best to keep it that way. "Like hell I'm telling you."

"Roman," Wuya said softly, "I know we agreed he was my order of business, but it looks like this is personal. If you let me have my piece, I'll let you have yours."

"Deal," Roman muttered. He let the hat's remains drop. Slowly, they fluttered downward as Roman and Mercury kept eye contact. Roman tightened his grip on the Cudgel. Mercury edged one foot out in front of the other.

The hat's remains touched the surface of the water.

Roman and Mercury had meant to fly toward each other and engage in combat, but Mozenrath, who had been growing ever frustrated the more Mercury talked down to Roman, decided he'd had enough and leapt in between them, sword drawn and pointed toward Mercury. And once Mozenrath had done so, Hans was compelled to chase after him, his own sword at the ready.

"SERIOUSLY?" Roman yelled. "That's MY enemy!"

Mercury ducked down to let Ordona leap over his back; the massive goat landed behind Mozenrath and Hans and proceeded to speed toward the remainder of the party. Wuya and Roman dove to either side of him while Irmaplotz, Zevon, Demyx, and Yzma turned to run straight away before all veering into different directions.

Hans and Mozenrath reached Mercury at the same time, each swinging his blade at the silver-haired man. Mercury hit the water, spinning his legs upward as the blades passed harmlessly over him. He dealt Mozenrath a swift kick to the gut and Hans one to the chin that nearly dislocated his jaw. It should have occurred to both of them then what they were dealing with, but the force of the kicks didn't register. It was only when they attempted to bring the swords down on Mercury and he parried both of them with his calves, resulting in a ringing clang, that Mozenrath and Hans realized Mercury's legs were made of metal.

Simultaneously, they remembered the gunshot from earlier. They both leaned back just in time to avoid taking a double-barrel to the face.

Mercury twisted, wrapping both legs around Hans' sword and spinning hard. Hans' blade separated from the sword's hilt and broke into fragments in Mercury's grip.

"Okay, that stopped being funny after the wedding," Hans growled.

Mercury's foot caught Mozenrath's right fist at just the right angle; Mozenrath's sword was sent spinning up into the air. Before Mozenrath could even think about catching it, Mercury was back on his feet, behind Mozenrath and kicking him squarely in the small of the back. Mozenrath toppled forward; Hans caught him in both arms. The pair of allies spent a good second looking into each other's eyes, wondering what to make of this rather awkward situation, before Mercury swept a leg under their ankles, spilling them both to the water. As they splashed down, still in an awkward position but now wet, Mercury kicked several shots of bright white ammunition into the air. Mozenrath rolled off of Hans; Hans rolled in the other direction, and the shots plunged down into empty water. Hans and Mozenrath staggered upward only for Mercury to grab a hand of each, pull them both across him as though enacting a ballroom dance maneuver, and use his right leg to deal kicks to their alternating solar plexuses repeatedly. Once he had them both battered, he leapt into the air, twisting and curling, ready to come down hard with a kick to Mozenrath's head.

A blur of black and red raced beneath him. The business leg was clenched in a hand; the rest of Mercury's body fell limply. He could see from his upside-down position that he was clutched by someone with bare feet and a black skirt; meanwhile, someone in a very familiar pair of trousers and shoes was ushering Hans and Mozenrath to get somewhere safer.

Wuya let go of Mercury; he dropped with a splash. "I hope you don't mind if we cut in," she told him.

"You have NO idea how long I've wanted to do this," Roman added as he loomed over Mercury.

Gritting his teeth, Mercury leapt back up into action.

In the meantime, Irmaplotz's new skill was failing her. She was able to create strong chains, but each time she called one up from the ground, Ordona outran its targeted space, and the shackle closed over empty air before splashing into the water. Yzma cartwheeled out of the way of Ordona's rampage, yelling over to Irmaplotz, "I JUST SAW YOU DO THIS TO SEVERAL TREES!"

"TREES DON'T MOVE!" Irmaplotz reminded her.

Ordona ground to a halt, spraying water up over Zevon, as he spied Mozenrath and Hans retreating from Mercury. They were disarmed and therefore easy targets. He charged up an orb of Darkness, letting it fly.

Demyx, in a panic, struck the chord that called up a dome of water to cover Mozenrath and Hans. The sphere of Darkness broke against it, dissolving the dome into a rain.

"I am NOT going to be HELPLESS!" Mozenrath raged.

Hans' eyes skimmed the surface of the spring until he spotted where Mozenrath's sword had landed point-down some feet away from where Roman and Wuya challenged Mercury. "Well, good thing you don't have to be," he said, pointing out the fallen weapon.

Mozenrath turned and made a run for it. He failed to notice another orb of Darkness gaining on his back; Demyx blocked it with a wall of water before it could even get close.

Mozenrath's hand clasped around the sword hilt; he drew up the blade. No sooner had he done so than the surface of the water bubbled as though boiling. Then a cloud of Shadow Insects burst forth, all fixing their eyes upon Mozenrath.

Mercury was locked into a fierce close-range battle with his two opponents. His legs flew in every direction, aiming for a face, a groin, a stomach; he leapt, he ducked and spun. But whatever wasn't parried by Wuya's bare hand or foot on one side was blocked by the Melodic Cudgel on the other. Wuya and Roman were just as alert as Mercury was; all three knew that if any one of them faltered for just a moment, that one would become the loser of the battle.

"You know, it's about time someone put out this torch," Mercury said through gritted teeth.

"How long were you sitting on that one?" Roman asked.

Mercury didn't want to dignify that with the answer, which amounted to two weeks before the fall of Beacon Academy, during which time he had suspected Roman might turn traitor with the exact same attitude he was displaying now.

"Also, you realize if you kill me, Righty will just bring me back," Roman pointed out. "They HAD to have briefed you on that."

"I know," Mercury replied as he attempted to swipe a leg into Roman's side and was parried at the next turn. "It would still be really satisfying."

"You're holding your own better than usual," Wuya complimented Roman as she ducked another swing from Mercury and responded with her own kick to his gut.

"He's close," Roman told her. "Sniping people is my first choice, but if I can get them close, I can parry them into submission." The Cudgel's shaft knocked into both the soles of Mercury's boots. "It's when they try to snipe ME that we have problems."

"You know, you really picked a good time to get chatty," Mercury commented.

Roman realized what he'd just let on. "…Shit."

It took a while for Mercury to figure a way out of the dual onslaught. It was sheer luck that saved him; as Wuya ducked a triple bullet fire, Mercury got enough room to swing in a complete arc, hands planted on the ground and one leg hooking around the back of Roman's shoulders before he used it as leverage to launch himself into the air, propelling himself even higher with more gunfire. He then put as much distance as he could between himself, Roman, and Wuya, knowing he only had seconds to give them the ultimate before he was put back between a rock and a hard place.

"Okay, this isn't working!" Demyx yelled at Irmaplotz. "We need to slow it down!"

"I AM DOING MY BEST HERE!" Irmaplotz screamed, throwing another chain that missed its mark as Ordona galloped round and round.

Zevon watched the sight unfold as he pressed against the rock wall, knowing and fearing what had to be done. He reached for his belt, removing the final bottle. "It's now or nevermore," he muttered, determination lighting up his eyes.

The bottle flew from his hand, soaring over the spring until it plopped into the spring just before Ordona. When the bottle sank without so much as cracking, Zevon cringed, thinking his plan had failed.

The agitated Ordona's left front hoof ended up completing the job, smashing down hard onto the bottle.

All at once, there was a rush of rainbow-colored sparks accompanied by booming and whistling as they spiraled and burst out from beneath Ordona. The goat halted in his tracks before tentatively backing up slowly, step by step. The sparks still managed to hit his chest, where they sizzled.

Seizing the opportunity, Irmaplotz conjured a web of chains from the ground, clamping them onto Ordona's neck, limbs, midsection, and horns. Ordona was now pinned in place, struggling but unable to escape as the fireworks kept unfolding in front of him.

"You know," Irmaplotz realized, "these chains are almost like macramé. I bet I could make a cute pattern out of – "

"LIKE WE HAVE THE TIME!" Demyx screamed.

Mozenrath, remembering how he had taken down the Shadow Insects in Lanayru's cavern, immediately stood with his back to Hans, blade swinging and slicing to cut down the bugs that got in his way. Hans, however, was none too happy about this; "Excuse me? I'm kind of UNARMED here!"

One of Yzma's darts whistled through the air and planted itself at Hans' feet. Plucking it from the water and jabbing it at the insects like a spear, Hans yelled, "THANK YOU!" He was quite pleased to see each insect he poked transform into a worm before falling into the water to struggle on the surface.

Yzma's attention turned toward Roman, Wuya, and Mercury. She could see Mercury getting away from them, and she watched as he put his plan into motion. She didn't know exactly what she could do just yet, but she was sure there was some way she could help the situation. So she charged.

By that time, Mercury had gone into another dance, arcing his legs through the air as he balanced on his hands, leaping from rotation to rotation. He let out a round of gunfire as rapidly and unendingly as he could; the white ammunition floated up into the air around him, whirling like a cyclone. It would go exactly where he needed it to, he knew. After all, Roman and Wuya were still chasing him directly into the center of the vortex.

His deed done, he backflipped three times until he was out of range. The ammunition swirled around Roman and Wuya, who had arrived where Mercury had been sowing his seeds, and it all began to descend. A smirk crossed Mercury's face; all he had to do was stand back and watch the destruction.

What happened next took place over the course of mere seconds.

First, Roman and Wuya realized they were in trouble. Then Wuya grabbed onto Roman's forearm. Roman sensed what she was about to do and reached for the bag beneath his jacket. Wuya teleported herself and Roman out of the reach of the vortex just before it would have collided with them. At the same time, Roman found a bomb inside the bag and pitched it; when he and Wuya arrived to safety, he was at the optimal distance to launch it directly at the vortex. He hoped at least some of the shrapnel would travel far enough to do some damage.

To his absolute glee, that was when Yzma surged up behind Mercury and dealt him a roundhouse kick, her high-heeled shoe stabbing into his lower back as he stumbled forward into the very vortex of doom he had created.

And as Mercury arrived in the midst of the whirling ammunition, the first of what he'd fired touched the fuse of the bomb.

The resulting explosion sent Mercury flying across the spring, slamming up against a rock wall and plopping facedown into the water with a massive splash. He quickly scrambled to turn over and get back to his feet, which he suddenly realized would be impossible if one of his prosthetic legs had been blown off by the bomb, which it turned out it had.

Wuya and Roman came barreling at Mercury together. Mercury, now in a panic, cracked off as many shots as he could with his remaining leg, aiming alternately for Roman and Wuya. Wuya batted each aside with a simple swat of her hand. Horrified, Mercury was on the brink of screaming at her how she was able to do such a thing, but then she was upon him, grabbing him by the one ankle he had left, using it to hoist him high above her head, and spinning his entire body using the ankle as a leverage point.

There was a loud crack. Mercury's body went sailing across the spring in a different direction, splashing down ungracefully in the water. Wuya still gripped his other leg; he was now left without means of fighting or even walking. She held back as Roman took his turn, rushing to stand over Mercury's body. Mercury braced himself as Roman raised the Cudgel high.

Trying one last tactic, Mercury gave Roman a weak smile. "Did I mention you really ARE hot?"

It had no effect.

Roman slammed the Cudgel down on Mercury again and again. "THIS is for treating me like your lapdog!" he screamed. "THIS is for every time you thought about bumping me off because I mouthed off to you! THIS is for every time you mouthed off to ME! And THIS is because you're an annoying idiot! I hope you're enjoying this, because this is just the appetizer! What's the main course, you ask? Well, you're going to be lucky enough not to know, because I'M SAVING IT FOR CINDER! You can go crawling back to her to give her THAT message!"

Wuya tapped Roman on the shoulder. "Ahem."

Panting heavily, Roman stepped aside. He gestured dramatically down to the bruised and beaten Mercury. "All yours," he stated.

Mercury whimpered, fearing whatever Wuya had in mind for him. He was surprised when she merely reached down and grasped his hand. Within moments, the Triforce power he possessed transferred over to her.

When Wuya had what she wanted, she stepped back, gesturing to Mercury in the same way Roman had done for her. "Continue."

"I'm just about done," Roman stated as he cocked the Cudgel to aim directly at Mercury's head. "All I want now is to deliver the coup de grace."

Mercury covered his eyes with one arm, dreading the worst.

No one, least of all Mercury, expected the Corridor to open up beneath him and pull him through. Once it did, it disappeared as soon as it had arrived.

Roman held the Cudgel aimed at the place where Mercury had been for a solid thirty seconds before lowering it. "You know, I'm not even mad," he sighed. "I fucking knew SOMETHING like that would happen."

Wuya patted him on the shoulder. "You'll get him next time."

Roman held out his hand, fingers outstretched and palm facing Wuya. Wuya immediately got the gist and slapped him a high-five.

Mozenrath cut down the final Shadow Insect. "If you're done," he called out over the field, "the rest of us could use transportation out of here ANY TIME NOW."

"Hold your horses!" Wuya yelled back over her shoulder at him.

"It's a GOAT," Irmaplotz corrected, "and I AM holding it!"

Wuya cast the next Corridor, waving her hand for first Roman, then Hans and Mozenrath, then Yzma, then Zevon, then Demyx, then Irmaplotz to run through. She followed up, meeting them on the other side in the midst of Faron Woods.

"This is brighter than I remember," Mozenrath said as he looked up at the sun in the blue sky.

"Some do-gooder has probably been going around fixing the spirits," Yzma sighed.

Mozenrath shrugged. "Not our problem."

"That was AWESTROME!" Zevon cheered. "We finally made it out of a battle without getting MANGLATED!"

"This is the best we've ever made it out of any of the encounters," Hans pointed out.

"Speak for yourself," Roman sighed.

"What's wrong?" Mozenrath groaned. "You got to beat your one-night stand half to death. Yes, he may have escaped, but he'll come back around for another chance to die. They always do."

"Well, yeah," Roman agreed, "but he ruined my hat."

"Is that seriously what's going to ruin this experience for you?" Hans sighed.

"It was a nice hat!" Roman snapped.

Mozenrath realized that without the impending Twilight, he no longer had to hold everyone else's bodies in place. He relinquished that magical hold, feeling the pain in his hand lessen. Then, with a flick of the wrist, he produced a new hat for Roman. "Before you complain," he said as he handed it over, "the one he ruined wasn't the original one in the first place."

Roman gently settled the hat over his head. "I'll get used to it," he resolved. "Oh, and by the way, Righty, next time Black shows up, I want the exclusive rights to offing him. No jumping in the way again."

"That's understandable," Mozenrath said, realizing where he'd made his faux pas. "I have certain nemeses I feel the same way about." His mind traveled to Wuya and her relationship with Ganondorf. That was the exact sentiment she harbored, he realized. Who was he, after all, to try and stop her from chasing the kill she so desperately wanted to carry out personally? He would want her to hold back if Aladdin showed back up for him to get a chance at murdering.

He had merely thought, in Mercury's case, that he'd heard enough bad-mouthing of his friend and ally. For a moment, the attack on someone so close to Mozenrath had made it seem as though Mercury was taunting Mozenrath by association – had made it seem as though Mercury was Mozenrath's enemy and therefore target. But Mozenrath saw now that this was incorrect. It had always been about Mercury and Roman. Next time, he would hold back. Though it did occur to him that Roman only got as far as he did by working in tandem with Wuya.

Wuya, who, at that moment, was fascinated by the back of her own hand. "Care to share what's so interesting with the class?" Mozenrath asked.

Wuya held her hand up and turned it around so the back was visible to all. The mark of the Triforce of Power beamed with full strength there. "Ready to tear a hole in the world?" she asked with a glimmer in her eye.


	61. Afraid of the Dark

61\. Afraid of the Dark

Snatcher was the first to be notified. He felt his scroll buzz in his pocket, and removed it to read the text that was displayed across the screen:

"We are in place. Join us. We will inform Garfield when ready."

Then was an address. Snatcher didn't find it familiar, but he had seen enough street signs posted outside to be able to locate it.

"Have just realized!" he cried for all working in the lab to hear. "Have not properly bathed since arrival here. Am aware, is too much information. But is for important reason, I swear." He deleted the text history from his scroll, laying it down on the counter next to the computer screen. "If daughter calls, cannot leave scroll unanswered, else she will worry. Am also holding out hope that friends from homeworld have survived and will make call. Scroll CANNOT go unanswered, else they think I am dead. Must pick up and inform whoever calls that Nikolai Pike is alive and will return call! Is very important! You understand?"

"We do," Ienzo stated. "Don't worry. We'll take care of it."

"Good," Snatcher said as he made for the door. "Will return shortly. Hopefully will not take long at all." He slipped out of the lab, his destination to exit the castle as soon as humanly possible.

"It's rather odd," Ienzo said once Snatcher had gone.

"What is odd?" Jumba asked.

"I thought these devices were only referred to as 'scrolls' on Remnant," Ienzo mused. "At least that is what I thought from observing Jaune, Ren, and Nora talk about them. Though perhaps I am wrong."

"What it's called doesn't matter!" Donald insisted. "Just so long as we answer it!"

"Am thinking duck should not answer phone," Jumba said without taking his eyes off the screen.

"What?" Donald squawked. "Why not?"

"We want it to be done politely, don't we?" Jumba replied, smiling to the screen.

"WHY YOU – "

Donald launched into a loud vent that went largely ignored.

...

The moment Wuya left Ordon Spring was the moment that Sora stepped into the spring's confines. He had just enough time to catch, out of the corner of his eye, a figure passing into a Corridor before it closed.

But that was a secondary agenda to the wildly thrashing Ordona that was chained to the ground before Sora's company. By then, the fireworks in a bottle had died down, but Ordona was no calmer.

"LOOK AT THAT!" Papyrus exclaimed when he got a good view of the scene. "THE PEOPLE HANS IS TRAVELING WITH DID OUR JOB FOR US!"

"They have to have figured out what we're doing!" Katara cried happily. "They chained Ordona down for us to save!"

At that moment, the first chain broke.

"We should probably hurry up with that," Stork suggested.

Link hurried forward, laying the blade of the Master Sword across Ordona's upper leg. He had to duck and flow to keep up with Ordona's stomping, but the sword's effect took hold, light spreading out from the point of contact to engulf Ordona's entire body.

"Cut down those chains!" Katara demanded once the transformation had begun.

It turned out that neither Crescent Rose, the Master Sword, nor Riku's blade could manage such a job. The Keyblade, however, was able to sever the chains after a bit of sawing; once a chain was broken by Sora, it dissolved into fragments of glittering magic.

Just as before, the sun burst through the Twilight and colored the sky a brilliant blue. The light reflected off the surface of the shallow spring, and the rock walls took on their natural coloring of brown with a tint of vegetative green here and there. It was no less of a magnificent sight than it had been the previous three times it had occurred.

"I must thank you," Ordona said solemnly. "You have restored Light to its proper place. And I can sense you have done so with the rest of my brethren."

"Hey, it was no big deal!" Sora insisted with folded arms.

"Sora!" Katara hissed. "Is that any way to talk to a Light spirit?"

"I take no offense to his words," Ordona stated, "even if I do doubt it was all that simple of a task. I fear the greatest challenge lies ahead. That which turned us to Darkness can only be a great power with godlike strength."

"I've faced down gods before," Sora boasted. "So long as we stick together, we can handle 'em!"

"SORA!" Katara snapped.

"I take no offense once more," Ordona stated, sounding something like amused. "I give you my blessing on the final leg of your journey. I have a word in particular for Princess Zelda. Please, come forth."

Zelda strode to the front of the crowd, bowing respectfully before Ordona.

"As the one who holds the throne of Hyrule," Ordona told her, "you will need a means of protecting the people you hold dear. Now that my brethren and I are again whole, we may bestow that power upon you."

"To which I would be eternally grateful," Zelda replied.

She straightened up, then snapped into a trance; everything before her vision had gone dark. Before she had any time to panic, she spotted Lanayru in the distance, shining like neon, surfacing as though from a body of dark water and plunging back again. A little closer to Zelda, Eldin swooped in low from above, then returned to the skies. Nearer still, Faron clambered up an unseen ladder, coming to rest in a levitated position with his tail curled around his orb of Light. Finally, Ordona shimmered into view just before Zelda, bending the knee to brush his horns against the princess.

They surrounded her, then: Lanayru behind, Faron to the left, and Eldin winging his way down to the right. Each spirit reached to her, giving her only the lightest touch – with a nose, a wing, a paw, a horn. She felt her very core of being become less heavy, filling up with a warm and familiar sensation.

From the outside, all anyone could see was a golden glow enveloping Zelda as she stood, eyes shut, a serene look upon her face. When it ended, the glow faded, and Zelda's eyes pried open.

"You now have the power of the four spirits of Light," Ordona informed her.

"Does that mean you have your fancy arrows back?" Midna asked. "That better mean you have your fancy arrows back."

Zelda put her hands in position, and the bow of light stretched itself between them. She aimed to the rock wall and drew back; an arrow filled itself in. She let it fly. The rock was blown apart.

"THAT'S gonna come in handy when we fight whoever did this!" Midna proclaimed.

"We already know who did this," Ruby reminded her. "It's Maleficent. And Ganondorf. And Cinder."

"I have no doubt that, should you face them, you will prevail," Ordona stated. "It still will be no easy task."

"Ordona," Zelda said solemnly, "if you are willing to answer, I have one final question for you."

"And what is that?" Ordona asked.

"The one I love has been two steps ahead of us at all times," Zelda explained, "fighting off the obstacles that stand in our way. You have no doubt seen him. Faron described him as sustaining a potentially fatal wound. Is he all right?"  
"Prince Hans was unharmed," Ordona stated. "I cannot, however, speak to his true goal."

"I know his true goal," Zelda emphasized. "He could only have been working to help us."

"But how would he have known what we were doing?" Stork asked.

"I do not know," Zelda admitted. "I only know what he would do to protect me and my people…and what I would do to protect him. I must find him!"

"We'll find him together!" Sora insisted. "Then we can thank him for what he did!"

"We should probably take care of our little Ganondorf problem first," Midna insisted. "The longer we let him stay, the more time he has to just mess everything up all over again! And now that we've brought Light back to Hyrule, that barrier he put up might be weak enough to take down." She gave a wistful sigh. "It was SO beautiful covered in Twilight, though. Are you sure this is the way it should be?"

"The Twilight isn't as bad as I first thought," Jasmine admitted. "There just might be room for it in this world. But not at the expense of the spirits."

"I know," Midna replied with a wink. "I was only teasing. Now come on. Let's go get Ganondorf's ugly butt off Zelda's throne."

"I have faith in you," Ordona stated as he faded away, returning to the spring.

As the group turned to move, Stork brought up, "Something's…off about all this."

"Like what?" Sora asked.

"If Hans is really helping us," Stork posed, "why does he always disappear right before we show up? And also, WHY DOES HE KNOW WHAT WE'RE DOING?"

"MAYBE HE DOESN'T?" Papyrus suggested.

"So he chained down Ordona because it was fun," Stork said sarcastically. "And he has some other reason to knock down Maleficent's lackeys besides making it easier on us."

"I'm starting to agree with Stork," Riku admitted. "Something doesn't add up here."

"That actually reminds me," Sora realized. "When we got here to the spring, I thought I saw somebody disappearing into a Corridor of Darkness."

"AND YOU'RE ONLY TELLING US THIS NOW?" Stork cried.

"I didn't have time!" Sora argued. "We had to focus on Ordona!"

"Something is DEFINITELY off," Stork insisted. "That HAD to have been Hans. And he was using DARKNESS."

"Well…I'm not sure entirely if that's what I saw," Sora admitted.

"Hans does not know how to use the Darkness," Zelda said firmly.

"I bet he doesn't have a way of chaining down spirits, either," Stork rebutted. "That's what his friends are for. And what do we even know about these friends of his, hmmmm?"

"That we owe them for rescuing him from his kidnappers!" Zelda insisted.

"And we discussed this earlier, remember?" Midna recalled. "Light isn't always good. Darkness isn't always bad. If it wasn't for Riku's deal with the Darkness, none of you would even be here right now."

"That is true," Jasmine pointed out.

"I'm starting to get a little suspicious myself," Aladdin confessed.

"I think you're all getting worried over a fat lot of nothing," Midna huffed. "You'll just get paranoid over anything, won't you?"

"That is kind of how Stork works," Ruby confirmed.

"But I've been RIGHT before, haven't I?" Stork said through gritted teeth. "Don't we all remember when 'Vexen' was trapped in the Black Sands?"

"THAT ONE DIDN'T END WELL," Papyrus recalled.

"You've also been wrong before," Ruby reminded him.

"I don't think we can even start to figure out what's going on with Hans until we deal with Ganondorf," Sora said in hopes of quelling the debate. "But I'm with Midna. I don't think we have anything to worry about. And if we do, we can think about it later."

"There is nothing to worry about from Hans," Zelda insisted. "I know his heart is true."

"And I know Zelda knows what she's talking about!" Link added.

"I really hope you're right," Riku replied.

...

"Seriously, what's this about?" Snipe egged on as he followed Ravess down the hallway.

"I just need to check on the laboratory!" Ravess insisted through gritted teeth. "Then I will be satisfied!"

"But what's in the laboratory?"

"That's none of your business!"

As they turned the corner; they very nearly crashed into the other set of siblings wandering about.

"Well," Rémington said smoothly, "I seem to remember one very sexy sweet sorcière mentioning she had business there. I was just on my way to pay her a visit."

"Ugh," Ravess groaned. "Tell me we aren't going to become accessories to your booty call."

"It looks like that's exactly what's happening," Rémington said with a grin.

"Then what's he doing?" Snipe asked, pointing at Grany.

"He's right here and can hear you," Grany said grumpily. "We just thought it would be better to stick together until we found Mim."

"What difference would that make?" Snipe asked. "Now you're being weird too!"

"And your sister is acting odd?" Rémington asked.

"His sister is ALSO right here and can ALSO hear you," Ravess asserted. "And I am not acting odd!"

The sound of high heels absolutely storming down the hallway diverted everyone's attention to behind. Scarlet Overkill was on the warpath, murder in her eyes, as Herb timidly followed. "WHERE IS SHE?" Scarlet demanded.

"Where is who?" Ravess asked, already feeling exasperation radiating from Scarlet and bleeding into her own aura.

Scarlet pointed at Rémington with a rod-straight arm. "YOUR girlfriend."

"She said she wanted to try something in the lab," Rémington answered. "I was on my way to ask if she wanted to take her experimentation elsewhere."

"Okay, NO MORE about your private life," Ravess groaned.

"Well, I have business with her first," Scarlet insisted. "She has a lot to answer for."

"We still don't have proof it was her," Herb pointed out. What he didn't add was that he still didn't have proof he wasn't still dreaming, but he didn't want to delve too deeply into that fear.

"What did Mim do now?" Ravess sighed in frustration.

"Herb and I had nightmares that lined up a little too well for comfort," Scarlet answered. "And if this turns out to be one of Mim's pranks, I am NOT going to take this sitting down."

"That does sound like something she would do," Rémington said rather dreamily. Then he realized what Scarlet had just informed him of. "Though…you experienced nightmares?"

"Not, like, ordinary nightmares," Herb clarified. "Like…worst-fear nightmares that make you lose your grip on reality."

"Hey," Snipe contributed, "I just had one of those! Not that I was scared or anything…"

"As did I," Ravess huffed. "This is beginning to sound more and more like one of Mim's jokes."

"It's an epidemic!" Grany cried. "I had one too!"

"So did I," Rémington said pensively. "This is Mim's flavor of destruction, indeed…"

That was when Xerxes came zooming around the corner. "HELP!" he cried. "Nightmare! Xerxes have terrible nightmare!"

"And what do you expect me to do about it?" Ravess spat.

"Aw, poor thing!" Scarlet beckoned for Xerxes to come closer, eventually settling in her arms. She scratched the top of his head fondly as he got comfortable. "Now you can just stay there as long as you need."

"The epidemic is spreading!" Grany cried.

"Our need to talk to Mim is now immediate," Ravess declared as she set out, now leading the group toward the laboratory.

"So that's why everyone was acting weird!" Snipe realized. "You all had those nightmares, and you got scared like wimps!"

"This was no ordinary nightmare," Rémington insisted. "And I'm willing to bet you were more frightened than you let on."

Xayide spilled out of a side hallway; Ravess took one look at her harried expression and asked, "Nightmare?"

Xayide would have been reticent to admit it, but Ravess' commanding tone made her unable to lie. "Yes," she stated.

"Worst fear?" Ravess asked.

"I believe it was," Xayide confirmed.

"Mim," Ravess seethed. "Come on. We're getting this settled."

"What does Mim have to do with my nightmare?" Xayide asked. "Though I am detecting that I was not the only victim."

"She's been pranking us by filling our heads with nightmares," Ravess said, matter-of-fact.

"We don't actually have proof of that," Herb pointed out.

"But it's something she'd do!" Grany insisted.

"Come confront her with us," Ravess demanded. "We need strength in numbers."

"Of course," Xayide said before falling in step with the group.

Ravess turned back to the direction at hand only to find Neo blocking her path, hands outstretched and head shaking. "What?" Ravess barked.

Neo just shook her head all the more.

"You DON'T think Mim is responsible?" Ravess realized.

Neo formed a heart shape with her hands, then pointed to herself. Mim likes me, she was saying.

"That doesn't matter!" Ravess sighed. "She likes Rémington, and she TORTURES him!"

"To be fair, that is a unique fixture of how our relationship works," Rémington pointed out.

"The nightmare didn't technically hurt you," Ravess pointed out, not even having to ask if Neo had experienced one. "By Mim's standards, that is a less than harmless joke. We're lucky she didn't decide to prank us in a way that resulted in missing limbs."

Neo shrugged; she still had doubts.

"Why don't you come with us anyway?" Scarlet suggested. "If we all had nightmares, we should stick together." A sudden memory struck her. "Wait a minute. When Mim was giving me a tour of the base earlier, we ran into Peter. He said something about a nightmare then. He seemed…shaken."

From a ventilation duct above, a voice stated, "It seems I was the first victim of this fearsome epidemic."

The entire group flinched, startled. "HOW long have you been spying on us?" Ravess barked at the vent.

The grate popped off, and Peter slid out, landing gracefully on his hands before tipping around to an upright standing position. "Long enough," he answered with a cryptic smile. "So we're going to ask Mim about our night terrors, are we? I suppose I can't pass up the opportunity to shed light on the incident."

"She was WITH me when we found him sleeping," Scarlet realized. "Maybe she didn't do it."

"She has magic!" Ravess reminded Scarlet. "She could have put it on some kind of…time delay!"

"Very possible," Xayide confirmed.

Within a few more paces, the crowd had reached the entrance to the lab. "We'll have to go two at a time to fit the cart capacity," Ravess announced.

"So, uh, which lever was it again?" Herb asked.

"I remember now!" Snipe announced. "Like I could forget after it was burned into my memory! It's THIS one!"

He surged forth, pulling one of the twin levers.

"NO!" Ravess screamed, seizing Snipe's upper arm and hauling him out of the way of the cannons that revealed themselves to let loose a stream of fire at the place where he had been standing only a half-second prior. When the flames died down, she decided, "I'LL be the one to pull the lever."

She stood just out of the line of the moving floor, waiting for Peter and Neo to position themselves before flicking the lever and sliding out of the way. The wall turned around, flipping Peter and Neo into a cart that was sent careening down its track.

"Next," Ravess barked.

Down in the laboratory, Mim and Aghoul had arranged a vast complex of beakers, graduated cylinders, and chemicals across the floor. It had been Mim's idea for the two of them to see if they could use the laboratory to bio-engineer a deadly plague. Having no idea how to work with such science, they had borrowed several of Vexen's notes for a quick primer. Yet, having found no key to disease devastation, they had left the notes scattered and were simply trying to mix different concoctions to record the results.

"Well, that one just turned purple," Mim sighed. "I was hoping for something deadlier."

"Perhaps it is deadly," Aghoul suggested. "It only LOOKS benign. Let me see…"

He tipped the contents of the beaker into his mouth, swishing it over his tongue and smacking his lips as he swallowed. "That was definitely poison," he declared, "but a very mild one. Nowhere near what we were looking for. I say we try again."

By that point, the crowd had finally all filtered into the laboratory, with Ravess and Snipe the last to arrive. Ravess took her place at the front of the crowd again, however, to approach Mim and Aghoul. "MIM!" she barked. "YOU HAVE SOME EXPLAINING TO…" Her eyes traveled over the mess on the floor. "…Do…"

Mim and Aghoul both turned to look up at Ravesss.

"Those are VEXEN'S belongings!" Ravess cried, suddenly enraged about something new. "Are you trying to ruin all of his hard work? Put this back immediately the way you found it!"

"I thought you two were in the midst of a tiff," Aghoul pointed out.

"Well…yes," Ravess admitted, now realizing how foolish it was for her to care so strongly about Vexen's personal space given the situation. "But that doesn't negate the need for order!"

"Order, schmorder," Mim scoffed. "Order is no fun!"

"You know what else is not fun?" Ravess went on. "Plaguing us all with nightmares that delved into our subconsciousnesses to drag our worst fears out in an overly realistic manner!"

"That actually sounds like a ball!" Aghoul observed.

"Of COURSE you'd think that," Ravess huffed. "You were most likely in on the scheme."

"What scheme?" Mim asked. "There had better not be a scheme I don't know about!"

"I'm talking about your scheme to give us all nightmares so you could have a laugh!" Ravess clarified.

"My what?" Mim answered. "That doesn't sound familiar. But it DOES sound like fun! I should come up with some nasty nightmares to give you all later!"

This was met with a crowd-wide "NO!", punctuated by Neo making an X with her arms and throwing it outward repeatedly.

"You're all in a killjoy mood today," Mim huffed as she stood up, dusting off her skirt. "All right, what's going on?"

"I've TOLD you what's going on!" Ravess groaned. "The nightmares! You sent them!"

"I most certainly did no such thing!" Mim argued. "So you're saying you all had nightmares at once?"

There were murmurs of assent from throughout the crowd.

"And they were of your WORST fears?" Mim asked.

More murmurs of assent.

"Did they seem incredibly realistic?" Mim continued.

"Yes, yes, and yes!" Ravess insisted. "Weren't you listening?"

"Hmmm." Mim put a forefinger to her chin. "Were these nightmares in any other way…unusual?"

"Well," Herb chimed in, "my dream played out exactly the way the first few minutes of actually waking up did later. I'm…still not sure I'm awake."

"AHA!" Mim cried. "There's only one answer to this conundrum! And that is…hmm, now wait a minute." She turned back to where Aghoul was pouring a bright pink compound into a beaker full of clear solution. "This isn't your doing, is it?"

"No, it isn't," Aghoul confirmed. "Though I agree with you, it sounds like fun."

"Then that DOES leave only one answer!" Mim turned back to Ravess and the others to confidently announce, "You're being haunted by the Boogeyman!"

It took a while for this answer to sink in. Then it was met with mixed reactions. Peter, Snipe, and Xerxes laughed. Scarlet, Herb, and the Smisses were merely confused. Neo shook her head before pressing her palm to her face. Ravess clenched her fists, yelling in Mim's face, "Do you think this is FUNNY?"

"Nonbelievers, eh?" Mim observed. "You don't think the Boogeyman is real? After all you've been through?"

"She does have a point," Herb realized. "I didn't even think all this inter-world travel or magic was real. Maybe the Boogeyman is too."

"The Boogeyman is kid stuff!" Snipe laughed. "No grown-up believes in the Boogeyman!"

"But he is real," Xayide broke in. "All tales told are real somewhere."

"I refuse to entertain the notion that this is the fault of the Boogeyman," Ravess said sternly. "If this is a lie to cover up the fact that you're pulling pranks…"

"I swear on my black heart!" Mim insisted.

"He's very real," Aghoul backed up as he stood, kicking over the flask he'd been working on in the process and melting a hole through the floor with the contents. "I've run into him before."

"Those who are on formal terms with him know him as Pitch Black," Mim explained. "He was a former guardian of childhood, along with those goody-two-shoes St. Nicholas, Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny, and Sandman."

"That does it," Ravess sighed. "If you're just going to make up stories, I'm leaving." She made an about-face.

Scarlet seized both of Ravess' shoulders to turn her back to Mim. "Hang on," she said. "I wanna see where this is going."

"Pitch's domain was nightmares and fear," Mim went on. "Quite admirable, in fact, if you could count on him for anything. The fact is, you can't. He's absolutely unreasonable to work with."

"And you're such a people person," Ravess said dryly.

"There is still a piece of the puzzle that doesn't fit," Aghoul pointed out. "His victims are all children."

"True, true," Mim mused. "Ever since children stopped believing in him all the worlds over, he's been trying to force his way back into the public eye with his nightmares. Adults simply won't do, since, well, look at how you all reacted when I brought up his name."

"So how are we supposed to defeat the Boogeyman?" Peter asked jokingly. "Sleep with the covers pulled up over our heads? Scare him away with night lights?"

"No, those won't do any good," Mim muttered. "Never have. It'll take strong magic to get him out. I can start work on a spell right away."

"So you'll actually help us?" Scarlet asked. "Like, you're actually going to do something for the good of the team? Because that doesn't really seem like you."

"I'm doing something to spit in Pitch's eye," Mim clarified. "I don't want him moving in on my territory! If anyone tortures your minds, it's going to be ME! Or Ghoulie."

"But since this is rather out of character for him, perhaps we should confirm our suspicions first," Aghoul suggested. "After all, if Mimsie and I are the only two who haven't been affected – "

"Then we'll be where he strikes next!" Mim pounded her fist into her open palm. "That's it! We'll corner him in our dreams!"

"To bed, then?" Aghoul suggested.

"To bed!" Mim declared.

"Er, actually…" Rémington broke in. "I was hoping that you would perhaps share your bed with me next – "

"You can wait!" Mim barked at him. "This is an important matter!"

Mim and Aghoul took off running, then, tipping over much of the glass they'd left around in the process. "AND DON'T ANY OF YOU FALL ASLEEP UNTIL WE SAY SO!" Mim called back.

"I don't believe this," Ravess sighed. "She can't have meant the BOOGEYMAN."

"It appears she's quite serious about this matter," Peter replied.

"Maybe he's actually real," Herb suggested.

Neo shrugged.

"You doubt my testimony?" Xayide brought up.

"Have you ever actually SEEN the Boogeyman?" Ravess asked her.

"I have not," Xayide admitted, "but I have heard of his doings."

"Rumors and children's tales," Ravess grunted.

"But there are those who say I, too, am a children's tale," Xayide argued.

"Maybe we should trust Mim for now," Scarlet suggested.

Xerxes nodded. "Trust Mim! Trust Mim!"

"The very fact that we are reduced to TRUSTING MIM is exactly what casts doubt upon the entire spectacle," Ravess groaned. "But I suppose this is the only way around it. No sleeping, then, until she's figured out if…THE BOOGEYMAN…is causing our nightmares."

"What shall we do in the meantime?" Peter asked. "There must be several good ways to pass the time."

"Good old-fashioned dance party?" Scarlet suggested.

"Now that's exactly my sort of entertainment," Peter agreed.

"It's not my idea of fun," Ravess admitted, "but we should probably humor Mim and all stay together."

"Well, we'll need music," Scarlet suggested. "You're a violinist. Maybe you could back us up?"

"There's nothing she could play on the violin that would be catchy enough to dance to," Rémington stated.

Ravess cocked an eyebrow. "Was that a challenge? You'd be surprised at what I can play. I'll meet you all on the dancefloor."

...

The scroll in Garfield's pocket buzzed. His heart nearly skipped a beat with excitement. He fished it out, reading the text displayed upon it: the address, and the words "IT'S TIME."

With no more subtle way coming to him as to how to direct the group where he wanted, he blurted, "I wanna see what's over HERE," and took off at a jog. He recognized half the address; a sign had informed him that he was already on the right street to begin with.

"Bridgit?" Yuffie called after him. "Bridgit, where are you GOING?"

"FOLLOW THAT BRIDGIT!" Nora laughed.

Yuffie, Nora, Moana, Sadira, Pleakley, and Lilo chased him down the street, following him as he turned down a back alley that closed in a dead end. "Huh," Garfield remarked in faux disappointment as he reached the stone wall. "I thought for sure it would be here."

"You thought WHAT would be here?" Moana asked, panting slightly from the chase.

"I was…looking for something," Garfield answered cryptically, pretending to search the back wall with his hands.

"Uh…Bridgit?" Sadira asked. "Are you okay?"

Now would be the time for the others to show up and deliver a stinging one-liner, Garfield thought. Maybe "You're about to not be." No, that was awkward. It would need work. It was moot, as the others hadn't caught up yet.

"Maybe we should go back to the open," Pleakley suggested. "Not that there's anything wrong with being here, but it's kind of…well…uh…"

"It's creepy," Sadira and Lilo said in unison.

That would have been another good place for a one-liner, such as "I'll show you creepy." But it didn't happen. Garfield wondered how much longer it would take; he could only hold the others in a featureless back alley for so long.

"No, seriously," Sadira asserted. "WHAT did you come back here for?"

Garfield turned back to face them. "Well, I just thought…I was looking for…um…well…"

"Looking to be cornered, perhaps?"

There it was, Garfield thought. Finally. And it was probably one of the less intelligent one-liners Vexen could have picked.

The others all turned immediately to find Vexen and the Huntsman blocking the alleyway's entrance. "You!" Yuffie cried in surprise.

"Rest assured, I am equally disgusted to see you," Vexen sniffed.

Nora immediately slipped into a battle stance; one hand balled into a fist while the other traveled to where the rebuilt Magnhild was strapped at her belt. "What do YOU want?" she snapped.

The Huntsman, in kind, withdrew the huntstaff and pointed it directly at the group. "I should think that would be obvious now."

"I suppose there's no point in pretending there won't be a scuffle," Vexen added, his shield shimmering into place. "I'm well aware none of you intend to come quietly."

"Who ARE these people?" Lilo cried.

Sadira stepped out in front of her and Pleakley, reaching for her purse. "They're not friends, that's for sure," she said. "Lilo, Pleakley, you stay back."

Pleakley nervously bent to wrap his arms around Lilo, which was the best protection he knew how to give.

Yuffie fanned out several shuriken between her fingers. "You're going to move aside," she stated, "or we're going to do this the hard way." By that time, Nora had removed and extended Magnhild while Sadira had opened her purse. Moana simply balled up her fists. Garfield, sensing the pattern, withdrew the sword from his back.

Vexen's mouth curled into a smirk. "The hard way it is."

Nora leapt, swinging Magnhild. It collided hard with Vexen's shield. He froze her feet down with a blast of ice; she smacked the casing with Magnhild and it broke away in chips. A spike of ice jutted upward from the ground beneath Nora; she leapt backward in time to avoid being impaled and broke it down with Magnhild. By that time, she was surrounded by a fence of icy spikes.

Sadira drew her hand upward from her open purse, and a stream of sand she had been carrying with her encircled her wrist. She flung it at the Huntsman's face; it forged into a small blade shape as it flew. The Huntsman batted the projectile aside; Sadira was already directing it to come back around like a boomerang. The Huntsman quickly ran up to Sadira, slapping his hand over her wrist.

The sand fell from midair and scattered on the ground. Sadira realized the Huntsman had attached a black cuff to her arm, and while she had never seen such a device before, it didn't take her long to realize it was inhibiting her magic. "HEY!" she yelled, scrambling with her other hand to try and peel it off to no avail.

The end of the huntstaff collided with Sadira's head, and she went down for the count.

Moana charged, ready to throw a punch wherever it could land. Vexen blocked her at every movement with his shield. Nora, having smashed her way out of the ice cage, slammed Magnhild into the blue metal again, hoping to at least shake him with the impact.

A rain of shuriken flew from Yuffie's hands; the Huntsman cut them out of the sky one at a time, the huntstaff's blade flying. Yuffie then held her hand up in the air; an enormous four-pointed star materialized there, ready for the throw. She sent it spinning. The Huntsman swiped at it but missed; it curved back around, careening toward his back.

Yuffie then felt a surprising blow to the back of the head; Garfield had punched her before surging forth to block the larger star with his blade. The star clanged to the ground.

"BRIDGIT?" Moana cried in surprise.

"Oh, come on," Garfield said in his natural tone, "you didn't know something us up when I led you here?"

"Your voice!" Moana observed.

"Yeah, I'm not a girl," Garfield confirmed, "and my dad's not Russian, either."

"Your dad – "

The mallet went flying through the air. Moana dodged it at the last moment, but a twist of the wrist redirected it to wrap its chain around her. Snatcher pulled her close, staring her directly in the eyes. "Nor am I his father, to begin with," he clarified.

"YOU ALL TRICKED US!" Yuffie cried just before she was encased from head to toe in an iceberg.

"YUFFIE!" Nora swung Magnhild hard at the ice, shattering it to pieces. The shards skittered along the alley like broken glass.

"I should have known to start with you," Vexen muttered.

As Nora turned to charge at him again, he sent the next blast of ice directly at her. She became frozen still.

"NORA!" Yuffie cried just before the Huntsman let a net fly from the huntstaff. The net pinned her to the ground, an electric pulse surging through it and knocking Yuffie out cold.

Moana struggled to break free of Snatcher's chain; he finally let her spin free once Vexen's attention was clear enough to solidify her in ice as well. With the group's warriors taken out, the Huntsman, Vexen, Garfield, and Snatcher turned their attentions to Pleakley and Lilo.

Who could only think to scream as the Huntsman's next net enveloped them, sending them both into unconsciousness with a jolt of energy.

"I am going to be so glad to ditch this stupid sword," Garfield complained as he let the weapon fall to the ground. "You know, if we wanted, we could just axe 'em all now."

"For one, that would remove an important leverage factor," Snatcher reminded him. "Should this deal turn sour and we somehow end up on the losing end, we shall at least want them to know that we will, in fact, deliver on a deal. And in the future, when we do so, we can become much, much more finicky with exact wording."

"And for another?" Garfield asked.

"It would be far less satisfying compared to what Mr. Vexen has in store, if you ask me," Snatcher replied.

"Take them to the grounds," the Huntsman directed.

...

"I think we're ready," Mozenrath told Wuya.

"Good," she replied with a smug smile.

Mozenrath withdrew the compass, not even bothering to look at it. "I'm going to need my hands free for this one," he said as he passed it to Yzma. "You keep track of where we're going."

"Me?" Yzma passed the compass on to Zevon, not giving it a second look. "Zevon, YOU take it. I'm going to be busy myself."

Zevon accepted the compass gladly, stating, "I won't let you down!" He then glanced down at the instrument's face.

In a few moments, Mozenrath, Roman, Yzma, Zevon, Irmaplotz, and Hans grouped up behind Wuya as she fixed her eyes upon the space before her – a perfectly ordinary confection of grass and woods. She raised her hand, letting all see the Triforce mark glowing upon it.

Then she plunged that hand forward, grasping something that wasn't there and tearing.

A rift immediately opened where she had made the cut, giving a small glimpse into the Twilight-colored realm on the other side. She threw down what she had held, grasping onto an edge of the rift and ripping once more to expand it. The rift took over the work on its own, spreading to form a door-sized aperture that could accommodate each of the waiting invaders. Once she was satisfied, Wuya strode through the opening; the others followed with almost no hesitation. The only one wary was Demyx, who gave the woods around him one last look before he disappeared into the Twilight Realm.

Once all had passed into the Twilight, the rift sealed itself, though for a couple hours, it would seem to any who rode through the woods that the view was distorted through the air in that area.

The eight stood before the Twilight palace, observing the guards moving about its perimeter and the citizens conducting business en route to the structure. "Now this is where it gets fun," Wuya remarked, lighting up one hand with lime-colored energy.

By the time the other Twili realized there were hostiles in their midst, it was already too late.

A page rushed into the dark blue throne room of Selenos and Soleanna. "Your highnesses!" he cried, making sure the gateway fell shut behind him before charging up the stairs. "Invaders! They are slaughtering – "

Before he could finish, the gateway behind him exploded in a burst of blue and green, throwing him to the side of the stairway. Selenos quickly stood – there was only one throne in the room, as had been reconstructed when it was apparent Midna would assume it. Soleanna was already standing at his side. She shifted just barely in time to avoid a flying dart that emerged from the cloud of dust left by the blown-up stone.

Mozenrath and Wuya strode into the room together, the others bringing up the rear. "Well, well," Mozenrath remarked. "The royals have a sense of taste in their interior decorating."

"I always thought the dark look was just something we conqueror types went for," Wuya said with a shrug.

"Well, we don't know these AREN'T the conqueror types," Mozenrath responded. He looked Selenos dead in the eye and smiled. "Go ahead and tell me how low you've stooped to win this throne. The more powerful you think you are, the more fun it will be for me to rip away your pride."

Soleanna stepped protectively out front of her husband. "Leave now," she warned, building a crackling sphere of Twilight magic in between her hands.

"Is that supposed to scare me?" Mozenrath taunted, mockingly putting the back of his hand to his head. "Wuya, she's about to obliterate me in one blow! What a terrible way to go!"

"I guess we came all this way for nothing," Wuya replied, sounding almost bored.

Soleanna let her attack fly; Mozenrath backhanded it into the wall, his gauntlet surging with magic. The throne room shook from the impact. "That was pitiful," he told the queen. "If I were you, I would have done something more like this."

He made a sweeping motion outward with his arm, letting magic arc outward and fling toward Soleanna. She caught the arc in her bare hands; there was a sound of sizzling. She shoved Mozenrath's own magic back toward him in one thrust.

And failed to notice the dark blue chains that had wrapped around her ankles.

Wuya deflected the oncoming magic blast while Mozenrath yanked at the chains, pulling Soleanna down to the floor. "Keep her down," Mozenrath growled as he reeled her closer to the group.

Yzma and Demyx obediently hovered over her, pointing one dart and the point of the sitar's tip at her chest.

"My turn," Wuya said as she squared up before Selenos.

Selenos wasted no energy; a host of beams of Twilight energy formed themselves like tiny darts in the air, all targeting Wuya. She knew she could easily block them all in one go the way she had done with the reflected magic Soleanna had thrown, but found it ultimately more entertaining to let him launch them and parry them one by one, moving almost more rapidly than the eye could see, a magic-sheathed fist or ankle bouncing each dart off course. The walls and the floor earned a plethora of pockmarks from where the attacks landed.

Selenos was now truly afraid, backing up to the far wall. Wuya could sense his fear, and it fed her satisfaction. Firing up the flames beneath her feet, she rocketed through the air toward him, getting up close to his face in the blink of an eye. She held a glowing fist up to his neck; he could feel burning heat emanating from it. "We just have one question," she informed him. "Answer it, and we'll consider letting one of you live."

"I…" Selenos was aware that whatever question required torture to obtain the answer was one that was dangerous to entertain. "I do not…fear you…"

"You're a bad liar," Wuya said with a grin. "Don't worry. This is an easy question. Where is the Fused Shadow?"

He had known it would be a loaded question. "Kill me," he said hoarsely. "I would sooner die than let you know."

"How admirable," Wuya responded calmly. Without looking back over her shoulder, she called back, "Mozenrath, what do you think?"

"Obviously, any good king would rather die than hand over a highly destructive magical force to invaders," Mozenrath stated, just as calm. "That was just to be expected. No one can blame you for wanting to give yourself up to protect that secret. But would you do the same if it was HER life on the line?"

He turned to Demyx. "Drown her."

Demyx, excited to be addressed as though he were valuable, plucked the strings of the sitar to form an eerie tune. Yzma scuttled back as Soleanna was enveloped in a bubble filled with water, levitating up off the floor. Soleanna struggled, but found herself unable to gain the traction to leave the bubble; she was forced instead to hold her breath.

"Now talk," Mozenrath ordered.

Wuya edged her burning hand closer to Selenos' skin, reminding him that it was now both him and Soleanna who would suffer if she didn't get an answer. The finger of her free hand traced down his face seductively.

No doubt it was to unnerve him, he thought. "The Fused Shadow," he answered, "is across the realm, buried in – "

Wuya slammed her burning hand against his chest; Selenos screamed in absolute agony as the force careened through his body. "I like liars," she said as she waggled the finger of the opposite hand – the one she'd used to make the contact and read his thoughts – in his face. "But not when they're lying to me."

"Um, question," Demyx asked. "If you could have just read that from him the whole time, why am I torturing her?"

"For fun," Roman clarified.

"So it's with the princess," Wuya remarked, having gotten that far in her exploration of Selenos' mind. "Good to know. If she were here instead of you, we might actually be having problems. Now, let's see where she's hiding – "

In abject desperation, Selenos emitted the strongest burst of Twilight energy he could. Wuya was thrown back across the room and down the stairs. Inspired by what her husband had done, Soleanna built up a blast of her own, using it to disintegrate Demyx's bubble in a massive explosion. She dropped to the floor, gasping heavily for breath.

Yzma rushed to Wuya, propping her up from behind so she could sit and look Selenos in the eye. "Stubborn," Wuya grunted.

"I warned you to leave," Selenos insisted, building a massive orb of Twilight magic in each hand.

"Help me up now," Wuya hissed through gritted teeth. Yzma pulled Wuya to her feet as the latter got her bearings.

Selenos bowled both orbs toward Wuya. Now it was Irmaplotz who stepped in, kicking one orb back to Selenos like a soccer ball and using the same foot, glowing with magic, to crush the other. Both attacks from Selenos had been packed with more power than she was ready for. "That hurt," she grunted.

"DOWN!" Wuya commanded, and Irmaplotz hit the dirt. Wuya sent out a beam that rocketed into Selenos, lifted him, and pinned him against the ceiling.

"NO!" Soleanna cried, scrambling to her feet only to find the barrel of the Cudgel pressed against her temple.

"I wouldn't, Queenie," Roman said smoothly.

She did anyway, slamming her fist and a ball of magic into Roman's stomach; as he doubled over, Soleanna volleyed a stream of arrow-shaped projectiles at Wuya. Mozenrath put up a half-dome of blue in their path; they all stuck into the azure energy like pins in rubber before dissipating.

Roman smacked the Cudgel's staff hard into Soleanna's stomach, sending her reeling.

"WHERE IS SHE?" Wuya seethed.

"ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE REALM!" Selenos insisted.

"I don't think you're telling the TRUTH!" Wuya exclaimed as she pushed back harder with the beam.

Soleanna righted herself, attempting to make a run at Wuya. Demyx was faster, plucking the notes that caused jets of water to slam her against the side wall; the blow was enough to hold her still when she fell.

Everyone's attention was suddenly caught by a cry of "ENOUGH! I WILL TELL YOU!"

It hadn't come from Selenos. It hadn't come from Soleanna. It had come from the page, who stumbled up into the throne room with bruises aplenty. "Do not kill them," he begged. "Please. Princess Midna left this world altogether with strangers. The Fused Shadow is no longer in the Twilight Realm."

"Nonsense," Yzma snapped. "Zevon, show him the compass."

"That's the thing," Zevon replied. He held out the compass to reveal that its needle was spinning uselessly round and round. "It's been doing this ever since we got here. Which is weird, because it wasn't malfunctionizing when we were in Hyrule…"

Wuya gasped, losing her concentration and letting Selenos fall to the floor, where he lay unmoving. "She's in HYRULE?" she barked. "We came all this way for NOTHING?"

"We probably should have looked at that thing earlier," Roman remarked casually.

Wuya clenched both fists hard, nails digging into palms, before suddenly relaxing. "No matter," she said smoothly. "Either way, I collected the power I needed to destroy Ganondorf. The only time wasted was on this side excursion."

Drawing back the marked fist, she punched the air this time, leaving a hole through which sunlight spilled. It rapidly expanded into another door. "Leave them," she commanded before walking back into Hyrule.

No longer caring whether Selenos and Soleanna were alive or dead, Mozenrath, Irmaplotz, Yzma, Hans, Demyx, and Roman rushed after her. Once again, the wound between the realms healed, leaving a distortion in its wake.

"See?" Zevon held out the compass. "Now it's pointing in a direction!"

Wuya stalked toward him to give the instrument a look. "So it is," she stated. "Now all we need to do is follow it." She sighed. "Not that I'm looking forward to chasing this girl halfway around the world with only a general direction to mark the way…"

"Actually," Mozenrath broke in, "why don't we start with a sure thing? We can track down her highness later. In the meantime, we have all the tools we need to bring down Ganondorf, and we don't need a compass to tell us where he is."

"Really?" Wuya was taken aback. "You want us to go for Ganondorf before the Fused Shadow."

"Why not?" Mozenrath said with a shrug.

"Because from the beginning," Wuya reminded him, "you were the one scolding me for chasing my personal priorities instead of what we came for."

It all came back to memories of Aladdin, of wanting to destroy him by Mozenrath's own hand. To a conclusion triggered by watching Roman beat Mercury to a pulp. It hadn't made logical sense before, but now it was all falling into place. "What are we about," he stated, "if not having our ranginak and eating it too?"

"Now this is going to be delicious," Wuya remarked, gesturing to create a Corridor of Darkness back to Castle Town.

Mozenrath held up his right hand. "Wait," he told her. "Our success in Ordon is due to the fact that we went in with a plan. I'm not walking into this one without a plan."

"Tell me you already have an idea," Wuya replied.

"As a matter of fact," Mozenrath admitted, "I do."

...

The others in the computer room of Radiant Garden were pleasantly surprised to hear Jumba, starting at a mutter and growing into a triumphant cry, say, "Yes…is almost…yes, there is! A-HAAAA! You have not gotten the best of ME!"

"Did ya figure it out?" Mickey asked excitedly.

"I most certainly have!" Jumba announced proudly. "Am entering password now."

With a few clicks of the keys, he had done his job. "There," he stated. "Should no longer have castle full of deadly weapons. Whoever put password into place is foul villain indeed. Chose word that is extremely offensive curse in Tantalog."

"Now we can go home!" Donald cried.

"Well, yeah," Goofy replied, "but, Donald, I'm startin' to wonder if…maybe we SHOULDN'T go home. Or at least not for longer than a little visit."

"WHY NOT?" Donald cried.

That was when Jaune and Kairi re-entered the room. "How's it going?" Kairi asked.

"Have successfully cracked code and restored order!" Jumba stated. "You are welcome!"

"Thank you," Kairi said sincerely.

"An interesting choice for your fingernails," Ienzo observed, looking over Kairi's pink and blue polish. "It's a good look."

"And thank you!" Kairi told him, beaming. "Though it was all Jaune's work. He's the artist."

"You two work well together," Ienzo observed.

"I'm glad my brother approves," Kairi replied.

"So," Jaune asked Mickey, "glad you get to go home now?"

"I wanna hear Goofy out first," Mickey admitted.

"Well, it just sounds like things are gettin' real complicated here," Goofy stated. "Xehanort's still out there, Maleficent's still out there, and now we all gotta deal with this Mozenrath guy. If people are gatherin' here to put their heads together and figure out how to stop it, we gotta help too, don't'cha think?"

"Why didn't I know this would end with you dragging me into another adventure?" Donald sighed, arms crossed.

"Gosh, I gotta admit Goofy's right," Mickey stated. "We'll need to check back in with Minnie and Daisy, but we can't just sit back while there's trouble brewin'!"

"If you don't want to stay," Kairi told Donald, "you don't have to. There are already a lot of us working together, and you must miss home."

"Aw, phooey," Donald sighed, "I couldn't turn my back on this if I wanted."

"The more, the merrier," Jaune decided.

That was when Snatcher's scroll began to vibrate.

"What's that?" Kairi asked.

"Nikolai's phone," Ienzo answered. "Or, more accurately, his scroll. He made it very clear that if he wasn't here to answer it, one of us should until he can return."

After a quick shake of her hand to make sure her polish was dry, Kairi grabbed for the scroll, answering it and holding it to her ear. "Nikolai Pike's phone," she answered. "He isn't here to answer it right now, but I'm sure he'll be back soon!"

The voice that replied sent chills throughout Kairi's entire body. "Once again, Kairi, you haven't failed to prove your naïvete," Vexen stated. "I must inform you that not a single word you said was correct."


	62. The Divine Beast

62\. The Divine Beast

"Do not hang up the scroll," Vexen asserted, even though Kairi's shaking hand was compelled to press the button that would end that conversation then and there. "The fates of your friends depend on it. If you don't want to listen to what I have to say, then you shall just have to content yourself with losing them and never knowing their fate."

Feeling her heartbeat shake her entire body, Kairi answered in a voice that gave off the impression of much more collectedness than she felt, "What do you want?"

"Are you alone, or with others?" Vexen asked.

"Why should I answer that question?" Kairi snapped.

"Then you aren't alone," Vexen presumed, "and are afraid that informing me of this fact will somehow endanger your current companions. Fear not. I have not yet devised a way to harm people through a scroll connection. I want you to set this device on speaker so that all present may hear me."

It took Kairi a moment to realize that there was no better course of action to take. "Okay," she said, her voice betraying her fear ever so slightly. "I'll do it."

"What's wrong?" Jaune asked worriedly as Kairi set the phone down.

"It's Even," Kairi said breathlessly as her finger tapped the screen, bringing Vexen's voice to the entire room.

"WHAT?" Ienzo cried in anger.

"Oh, when WILL you learn?" Vexen's voice echoed throughout the chamber. "I am henceforth VEXEN, not Even! If a band of murderers, thieves, and conquerors can call me by the correct name, surely YOU can find it within yourselves to do the same!"

"How did you get this number?" Ienzo barked at the scroll. "What do you want?"

"I will get there in due time," Vexen responded. "First, I aim to shed some light on your current situation. By now, you are by no doubt realizing that 'Nikolai and Bridgit Pike' were not who they seemed to be. Both were spies dispatched by the organization informally known as the WHAM ARMY."

"The what army?" Jaune said in confusion.

"You weren't aware?" Vexen replied. "Wuya. Huntsman. Ayam. Mim. Archibald. Roman. Mozenrath. Yzma. Their initials form the acronym."

"So this is Mozenrath again!" Kairi cried.

"You did not realize that from the moment you heard my voice?" Vexen chided. "I constantly realize that I give all of you too much credit in the department of critical reasoning."

"Before this goes further," Jumba broke in, "who are you and what is connection to Radiant Garden contingent?"

"An unfamiliar voice," Vexen remarked. "No doubt one of the newcomers about whom I was briefed. Very well. As you have heard, I formerly answered to the name 'Even.' I once called myself a resident of Radiant Garden and a member of its Restoration Committee. This was, of course, after a much longer and more sordid history, but all you need to know is that I, finding my intelligence wasted upon that festering pit of incompetence, departed to join forces with more like-minded colleagues with whom I could drop the pretense of morality and compassion and instead focus on more productive pursuits. Though I shudder to think of how the Committee has proceeded without my intellect to drive them forward."

Jumba turned to face Ienzo and Leon. "So you had evil genius too," he remarked. "Is not as charismatic as me. Am not approving of this one."

"We're not proud of him," Leon grunted.

"He let us think he was part of our family," Ienzo said through gritted teeth, "before betraying us completely."

"DEFINITELY inferior to self," Jumba concluded.

"Most certainly wrong," Vexen huffed. "If I still had a heart, this is where I would be well and truly offended. As it is, I would like to get back on topic. Unless you would prefer to delay securing the well-being of those you currently call 'family.'"

"Why you – " Donald launched into an unintelligible string of insults.

"Donald," Mickey said softly, "we gotta listen to him."

Once Donald settled down, Vexen continued. "If you are QUITE done, I wish to propose a trade. One of my associates has taken a particular interest in one of yours. Knowing what you know now about the true identity of Bridgit Pike, you may have already concluded whom we have in our clutches. But for those of you who haven't been paying attention, they are as follows: Nora Valkyrie, Yuffie Kisaragi, Sadira, Moana, Lilo Pelekai, and the one simply called 'Pleakley,' which, if I recall, is a Plorgonarian surname."

Giving a cry of horror, Stitch scrambled for the scroll, yelling, "LILO!" He swiped up the scroll into his claws, shaking it desperately. "Give back Lilo! Give back!"

But he only had control of the scroll for a moment before Jumba wrenched it from him. "I know not who you are," he raged at the device, "but you will not DARE harm Pleakley or little girl! YOU WILL NOT DARE!"

"And what will you do if I dare?" Vexen challenged.

"YOU ARE NOT WISHING TO KNOW!" Jumba roared.

"Jumba," Leon said calmly. "We need to hear out his demand."

"Have heard all I need to know," Jumba stated. "Am only interested in making him release Pleakley and little girl by any means necessary."

"You'll find that the means necessary are not at all complex," Vexen stated coolly. "As I said, I wish to perform a trade. Six captives for one."

Jumba set the scroll down hard, letting it drop the last inch and clatter on the counter. "Am listening," he snarled.

"We are interested in Stitch," Vexen stated, "and ONLY Stitch. Send him to us and we will release the captives."

"And what are you planning to do to my little Stitch?" Jumba asked with suspicion.

"Stitch no care!" Stitch insisted. "Stitch trade for Lilo! Make Lilo safe!"

"I am afraid Stitch is not scheduled for such a fortunate fate as our hostages will be once the trade is complete," Vexen answered. "They are worth more to us alive. Stitch is not. I see no reason to hide the truth from you; he will be promptly slain."

"NO!" Kairi cried. "YOU CAN'T DO THAT!"

Stitch gasped in horror. But once the dread had settled within him, he announced, "No…is okay. Stitch…will go. Must save Lilo."

"No!" Jaune insisted. "I'm not letting that happen!" He swiped up the scroll into his own hand. "What makes Stitch so special to you? Why does he need to die, damn it?"

"The connection between Stitch and the Huntsman is largely incidental," Vexen replied. "It is a matter of pride more than anything else. I don't expect any of you to understand. Nor did I expect you to be receptive to the idea, even though I feel the proposal is more than reasonable. Send one to die, and six will live. Refuse to sacrifice a single life, and six will perish."

"YOU CAN'T JUST TALK ABOUT LIVES IN NUMBERS LIKE THAT!" Jaune screamed.

"Are you refusing my offer?" Vexen asked. "If so, I will not waste any more time. I hope you have made peace with your missing friends. You won't get another chance."

Ienzo swiped the scroll from Jaune. "We're listening," he said hurriedly. "We'll take your offer."

"Ienzo!" Jaune and Kairi cried in unison.

"Hang on," Mickey warned in a soft voice. "I think he's got a plan."

Ienzo did not, at the moment, have a plan. But he knew that once he heard Vexen's terms, he would be able to come up with one. "What exactly are you requesting of us?" he asked.

"Dispatch Stitch to us," Vexen outlined. "There is a specific location at which we will need to meet him. And be sure to send him alone. If he is accompanied by any other, our deal is null and void."

"You have a deal," Ienzo replied.

"It is good to hear it, Ienzo," Vexen stated. "I should have known I could rely on you to make a decision that required logic to be placed ahead of emotion. You really haven't changed much at all since the days of Oblivion."

Ienzo bit down a rant on all the reasons Vexen was wrong, knowing full well Vexen was trying to bait him. "Where are we to send Stitch?" he asked.

"At a certain place in the restoration site," Vexen replied. "The shorter entrance to the Cavern of Remembrance. You do recall that location, Ienzo, do you not? You will have to share with the others what is hidden there. Inform them of what you have kept secret – "

"We know Xemnas had a testing facility there where he kept data on every member of Organization XIII buried under our noses," Leon broke in. "Ienzo was upfront with us about that from the beginning."

"Now that, I find surprising," Vexen sniffed. "You are aware Ienzo had a hand in its construction? That he was responsible for the collection of most of this data, including that of himself?"

"I haven't run from my past," Ienzo stated. "They know everything."

"Well," Vexen replied, "that is almost a disappointment. However, you now know the proper location at which we are to carry out this trade. My associates and I will await Stitch's arrival. Do be prompt. Take more than three hours for him to arrive and we cannot guarantee the safe delivery of all six hostages. Have I made myself clear?"

"As crystal," Ienzo stated.

"Then I shall relieve myself of having to hear your voice," Vexen concluded. The connection was immediately broken.

"Gawrsh," Goofy said worriedly, "you're not just gonna send Stitch to die, are ya?"

"Of course not," Ienzo said matter-of-factly. "We're all going to follow him to the rendez-vous point and outnumber the WHAM ARMY. We're just going to do so in a way that will fool Ev – Vexen into THINKING Stitch has come alone. We will make ourselves known once we're in a position to ensure the safety of the hostages."

"Lemme at him!" Donald cried. "I'm gonna knock his block off!"

"Not if I am to be getting at him first." Jumba rose from the chair. "I will be doing knocking of blocks."

"I don't know if it's safe for you to come along," Ienzo informed Jumba. "From what I've seen, you're unarmed. Everyone else here can fight."

"I know how to operate blaster," Jumba pointed out. "If there is spare around, can and will wield it."

"Stitch have blaster," Stitch volunteered, "but…is Stitch-sized."

"Actually," Ienzo realized, "come to think of it, we just might have something you can work with. Everyone else, go find the others and gather as many of us as you can here in this lab. We only have three hours to assemble."

"On it!" Kairi cried as she turned and bolted from the lab. Jaune followed soon after, and Leon was third to sprint forth.

"Come with me," Ienzo invited Jumba. "I almost can't believe I'm about to dig this up. But I said I wasn't running from the past, and I meant it."

Within a few moments, Jumba found himself in the castle armory, looking at an array of spears and swords hung up on the wall. Stitch had come along to observe, and was turning the walls into an obstacle course as he crawled over each deadly implement. Ienzo crossed the room to a wooden cabinet, which he flung open to reveal a unique pair of weapons. "Do you wield with one hand or two?" Ienzo asked.

"Am perfectly capable of wielding two," Jumba responded.

Ienzo lifted both arrowguns out of their cabinet, holding them outward. They were heavier than he had expected, but Jumba, upon taking them, was able to handle them like they were nothing.

Stitch crawled down to the floor to get a better look at the arrowguns, admiring them with an "Ooooooh!"

Jumba tested the grip; his fingers were just able to fit around the triggers. "These will do," he announced.

"Good," Ienzo said with a nod. "They're better off in your hands than where they used to be."

Jumba was curious about that statement, but decided to let it go in favor of voicing a concern. "Is something bothering me about whole situation," he admitted.

"What's wrong?" Ienzo asked.

"Your former evil genius obviously is expecting more than just Stitch to come," he pointed out. "In fact, is setting up something that requires us all. Why else separate little girl from Stitch in first place? WHAM ARMY went out of way to do so. If had not kept Stitch back from trip of shopping, would be no need for trade. Furthermore, gave Stitch three hours, not one. Three hours is adequate time to put together plan and arm soldiers. If had to guess, would say plan was to assemble all of us in one place, but set up plan so if Stitch DID come alone, could slay him as promised without interference and obtain minor victory. Think of it as consolation prize. MAJOR victory comes from defeating all of us in one blow."

"You do have a mind for evil schemes after all," Ienzo realized. "Your observation does seem to make sense. The problem is that I don't see how to circumvent it. Because you are correct. If we do send Stitch alone, we will lose him, and there is a good chance they won't keep their word about the other hostages. If we don't go at all, the hostages are already lost. What we are preparing to do is the only thing we CAN do. We just have to hope in the end, we are smarter and stronger than the WHAM ARMY."

"Is very true," Jumba agreed. "Must have hope. Is all we can do."

Ienzo strode quickly from the room to return to the computer room. Jumba took that moment to remind Stitch, "KNEW traitor's accent was fake."

Stitch gave a nod of confirmation before they followed Ienzo.

...

Mim swirled a bottle in her hand as she slid into bed next to Aghoul. "One drink of this draught should send us both off to dreamland," she announced. "And once we go, we'll be sitting ducks…or so Pitch will think!"

"You're sure we can best him there?" Aghoul asked.

"So long as we have these." She held up a wrist wrapped in a bracelet charm. "I do so hope the Huntsman minds us borrowing them. I certainly don't intend to give mine back. It's the LEAST he deserves."

"He'll have to sever my hand to get it back from me," Aghoul added. "Of course, he could actually do that without any consequences…ah, well, let's not waste any more time."

Mim uncorked the small bottle, taking a sip that consisted of half the contents. She then passed it to Aghoul, who downed the rest and set the bottle on the nightstand next to the bed. The pair lay back, closing their eyes as they rested on their pillows. In almost no time, slumber washed over them both like a slow-rolling wave.

...

Thanks to the charm around his wrist, Aghoul was aware he was dreaming. That explained why he was suddenly alone, standing in Jafar's laboratory in the palace of Agrabah. The Eye of Gazeem, the glittering purple gemstone that activated a portal between the realm of the living and the Netherworld, was sitting out on display, which was an oddity; it was usually kept hidden behind a secret panel in the wall.

Aghoul glanced around the lab, wondering exactly what in this room was supposed to be so scary. The Eye of Gazeem posed a threat, but it wasn't as though he was going to use it so long as he stood in the living realm.

When the door to the lab slammed open and Aladdin skidded into the room, it suddenly clicked; Aghoul knew what was going to happen. "You're not getting away with it this time, Aghoul!" Aladdin cried confidently.

"That's what YOU think!" Aghoul barked, diving for the Eye.

Aladdin was faster, knocking Aghoul back across the room as he rushed to the gem. "It's back to the Netherworld for you!" the young prince cried, laying a hand on the stone.

Don't panic, Aghoul told himself. It's only a nightmare, and it was crafted to get a rise out of you. It's only the Netherworld.

Still, his skin prickled as the portal opened, sucking him backward into the far less physical realm. This time, however, something was different. Instead of merely being incorporeal on a parallel plane, still able to haunt the palace, the Netherworld was entirely dark, as though another world entirely, one made of eternal blackness that obscured sight as far as the eye could see. The only landmark was the portal back; Aghoul could faintly see the laboratory through it as he flew further and further away.

His back slammed into something hard; his limbs were boxed in by confining walls. It took only a bit of feeling around for Aghoul to realize he had landed in a coffin. Once again, he was at a loss as to how that was supposed to be frightening, as he had always enjoyed the aesthetic of coffins.

The light from the portal was gone with a heavy thud. Aghoul pressed his hands forward to feel the hard resistance. Now it made sense. He enjoyed the aesthetic of coffins so long as they were not nailed shut around him.

Within his claustrophobic box, closed away like any ordinary corpse, Aghoul tried to summon various magics – a skull bomb, his scythe. Nothing worked. The nightmare relied on him having limitations that wouldn't allow him to escape the coffin. But it also relied on him not knowing it was a dream at all. Mim had promised that as long as he was lucid, he would have power over his environment.

Then again, there was a small chance Mim had said that so she could laugh at him having suffered later while she sussed out the Boogeyman alone.

He decided to trust in her, foolish as that was, and really concentrate on the charm that encircled his wrist. Sparks of magic crackled in both of his hands, the palms of which were pressed flat against the coffin lid. He pushed hard; the magic surged, and the lid exploded into splinters.

The portal was now a pinprick. Mim had advised Aghoul when they undertook this mission to find the nightmare's core and blast it to kingdom come. Only one item in this entire dreamscape seemed like a possible linchpin for the horrors.

Aghoul conjured up a skull bomb – a much easier task now that he had faith in his magic once more – and hurled it across the void. It sailed through the portal, colliding hard with the Eye of Gazeem, where it exploded.

Immediately, Aghoul's gaze was adazzle with light. The beams surrounded him, transporting him out of the darkness. If he wasn't careful, he would wake up.

He grasped the charm, choosing instead to create a portal that allowed him to slip into the dream next door. His sandals sank into soft grass, giving him the first sign of what was wrong. Taking a look around, he realized he could be nowhere but in Mim's nightmare; it was exactly as he suspected it would be.

The sun blazed brilliantly against a backdrop of a baby-blue sky. Puffy white clouds, some formed into the shapes of such things as kittens or ice cream cones, floated past, never quite obscuring the sunshine from above. The grass below was bright green, with not a single bald patch in sight. The flowers that sprouted from it were enormous, with multicolored petals that stretched out into majestic fans. Each flower had a tiny face, which allowed it to contribute to the all-too-cheery song they were singing in chorus to accentuate the bright surroundings. Here and there, a tree was visible, each bearing its own face to provide the bass section for the song. The plants weren't the only things growing up from the ground; for no explainable reason, peppermint candy canes were also sprouting. The landscape rolled into hills and valleys, making it impossible to see too far into the horizon.

Aghoul located a road paved in dark bricks and stepped onto it, following it as it snaked over the uneven landscape and hoping it would lead to Mim. The drab color of the road seemed out of place considering its surroundings until Aghoul realized it was made of chocolate. He reached down to break off a piece and eat it. This was a mistake; he coughed it right out. It was simply too sweet.

On his journey, Aghoul noticed several other fixtures of the hellish dreamscape he had entered. For one, it seemed to be overrun with rabbits. Small ones, too. Aghoul loaded up another skull into his hands, tossing it at a stray rabbit; the small creature was faster than his weapon, bounding effortlessly out of the way to avoid the explosion – which, instead of a blast that could be likened to gunpowder, was a mere smoke bomb. A pink smoke bomb that smelled of bubble gum.

The landscape dropped off into a valley that contained a sparkling, clear lake. A short figure was clearly visible, storming angrily across the grass and leaving burn marks in her wake, only for the grass to bound right back to a healthy green the moment her feet left it. Aghoul picked up the pace, rushing down the hill to reunite with Mim.

Perhaps a little too quickly; he tripped over his own foot and soon found himself rolling head over heels down the slope of the hill. He finally slowed down and came to a halt in a tangle of limbs before Mim.

"Please tell me that hurt," she seethed. "I need to know there's SOME suffering in this world."

"It was more like a tickle," Aghoul confessed, working on standing back up.

"Oh, it's awful!" Mim moaned. "Absolutely awful! You haven't seen the worst of it! I've been wandering around looking for you, and on my way, I passed through a village. The houses were made out of gingerbread and held together with marshmallow paste, there was a kitten sitting on every rooftop, and worst of all, there were people of all sorts getting along and laughing together without a single bad apple in the bunch! I asked out of curiosity, but I should have known the answer. They said all evil had been eliminated from the world and there was only peace and joy left! So I did the only thing I could do. I set the village on fire. And do you know what happened?"

"Based on what I've seen," Aghoul said as he finally straightened up, "I would say nothing happened."

"NOTHING HAPPENED!" Mim screamed. "The people walked right through the flames without burning, the kittens were momentarily woken up just enough to do that cutesy little thing where they stretch out their paws and yawn before going back to sleep, and the houses all remained right where they were before the flames burned themselves out! The ONLY mark it left was that it toasted the marshmallows and made the village smell DELICIOUS! I had to get out of there, Ghoulie. I could feel myself wasting away just by being around so much good and happiness. Those singing flowers are out for my soul, I tell you! I can't stay here any longer! I hate it! HATE IT! HATE HATE HAAAAAATE!"

"So get us out of it," Aghoul told her. "Find the core of this dream and snuff it out."

"There's really only one thing all this joy could be coming from," Mim growled. "The one thing I hate above all else." She pointed upward at the sun. "RIGHT THERE!"

"On three!" Aghoul decided, gathering a bomb in each hand. "One – "

"THREE!" Mim screeched, sending a lightning-esque blast of energy rocketing through the sky with a loud crack.

Aghoul just let the bombs drop and fizzle out. Obviously, this was personal for Mim. It was best he not get involved, lest he get a lightning bolt to his own chest.

Once the bolt hit the sun, it cracked like a lightbulb, and in a similar vein, flickered before going out. As soon as it had winked into darkness, the entire saccharine world surrounding Aghoul and Mim disappeared, from the grass to the lake to the trees. They were left standing in a gray, cylindrical room that was barely illuminated; the broken bulb still hung overhead.

"Better," Mim panted. "Much better." It felt as though someone had just unwrapped her from being tied up in a thick and oppressive blanket.

A prim chuckle echoed throughout the room; Aghoul and Mim's eyes searched the walls, trying to pinpoint its source. "I knew you would be difficult," the chuckle's owner stated in a lilting tone. "I even suspected you would find a way to break the spell. But it was worth it just to feel your fear for the brief moment you let it show."

He was a shadow on the wall and nothing more, but Aghoul and Mim could both tell it was him; the shadow was tall, shaped vaguely like a human, and moving ever so slightly along with his dialogue.

"I'd know that voice anywhere," Mim accused, "Pitch Black. So it WAS you."

"Mad Madam Mim," Pitch responded. "How…lovely to see you again."

"YOU TAKE THAT BACK!" Mim screeched.

"Of course I know it's never lovely to see you," Pitch corrected, amused. "Nor is it to see Ayam Aghoul. But to think I would see you both in the same place…this truly is a momentous occasion."

"Enough sweet-talk!" Mim huffed. "Out with already! What are you doing?"

"Was it not obvious?" Pitch replied. "Searching your hearts for your deepest fears and bringing them to light."

"Yes, yes, we knew that part!" Mim said with a stamp of her foot. "But why us? Why grown-ups?"

"A question I don't feel the need to answer in our current state," Pitch replied. "After all, there is still much for you to fear. Your friends can't remain awake forever, and the tricks you used will be useless in their hands."

"We know how to chase you out," Aghoul threatened.

"I don't doubt you do," Pitch sighed. "It will be such a disappointment when this is over. But it hasn't truly ended yet. I might have more to say once you've actually ended the chase."

Now Aghoul was able to call his scythe to hand. "I think it's time to put you out of our misery," he announced as he embedded the scythe's tip in the wall.

Even though the blade cut right through the shadow, it was still merely a shadow, and Pitch's laugh echoed loudly through the chamber after that feeble attempt to disarm him.

"That's no use here!" Mim scolded. "He's all-powerful here! We've got to get him in the WAKING world if we want him out!" She seized Aghoul's upper arm. "Come on!"

"Give me one last challenge," Pitch dared.

"Oh, you'll get more than that," Mim promised.

She and Aghoul disappeared in a shower of sparkles; they'd woken up. Pitch decided to take his leave from the chamber as well, and once no one was around to necessitate it existing, the room simply stopped doing so.

...

Muffled voices. The sound of rushing water. Darkness slowly becoming the light of somewhere very white and blue.

Sadira's eyes were easing open as she lay on her stomach on the cold marble floor. The most basic sensations of where she was were the first to make themselves known. Remembrance of how she'd gotten there came after. And when it did, her heart kickstarted.

She scrambled to her feet, taking a look around herself. She was in a low-walled circular room of silver-white walls with an identically colored floor; a computer terminal rested at the room's center. Where the walls ended, there was no ceiling; instead, impossibly high walls of water fell toward the sky, which was visible above as a bright blue shimmer. Behind Sadira, a stairway led up above the walls to some sort of feature, perhaps a wall or door, that was covered in a thick chunk of ice. Before her and behind the terminal, another patch of ice, tall as the wall and several feet wide, glistened.

Perhaps the oddest fixture of the room was the thirteen structures that stood atop the walls. Of a dimension that suggested they were doors, they showed only blue light beyond, marked with a shadowy symbol that was different for each. Sadira needed to look at them twice over before realizing she recognized some: Vexen's shield, Dilan's lance, a club that looked like something Aeleus might wield, a pair of crossed Keyblades.

It appeared Sadira had been the last to awaken; Nora, Yuffie, Moana, Pleakley, and Lilo were gathered near the ice patch behind the terminal. "Sadira!" Moana cried once she saw the last of their number moving.

Pleakley immediately screamed "SADIRA!" and rushed toward her, seizing her by the upper arms. "Tell me you're all right! You remember who I am, right? And all of them? Do you remember who YOU are? What world are we on?"

"I'm fine," Sadira said with a slight laugh; not that Pleakley's concern was a laughing matter, but he was going a little overkill with it. She appreciated being worried about all the same. "I'm Sadira, you're Pleakley, we're on Radiant Garden, and I don't think I hit my head THAT hard." She frowned. "I also remember why we got knocked out in the first place." Her eyes drifted down to her arm, where the cuff the Huntsman had placed on her was still locked tightly. "Give me just a second."

Pleakley backed off as Sadira tried to pry her fingers under the cuff.

"That won't work," Yuffie warned her. "I've seen those before. It's a magic-blocking cuff. You need someone else to take it off for you. I think I remember how!"

She surged over to Sadira's side; Sadira eagerly held out her arm and let Yuffie fiddle with the cuff until it was detached. Yuffie tossed the cuff to the floor; Sadira flexed her arm. "That's better," she remarked. "Thanks. Now if I just had my sand to work with – "

"You mean this sand?" Lilo held up a bag that was unmistakably the purse Sadira had been using to carry her supply of sand around.

Sadira approached, shouldering the bag and drawing a thin line of sand up out of it, curling that line in a spiral in the air. "Why would they let me keep this?" she wondered out loud.

"That's the question," Nora agreed. "We were all wondering the same thing. Well, not about your sand. The real question is…why would they let me keep THIS?"

She hefted Magnhild up over her shoulder.

"I've got all my shuriken, too," Yuffie added, fanning them out in her fingers.

"They must be new at this whole 'hostage' thing," Pleakley figured.

"Too bad it doesn't do us any good in here," Nora groaned. "If not for lack of trying."

"What's that mean?" Sadira asked.

"You see that ice?" Nora pointed out. "It's covering a door. We could all just see it on the other side. The PROBLEM is…everyone, stand back!"

The others scuffled out of the way as Nora drew back Magnhild. With a forceful swing, Nora connected the hammer's head to the ice wall. It merely bounced off.

"Even was NOT playing around when he put that there," Nora announced. "I've hit it about ten times now and not even a dent!"

"The ice on the other side is probably covering another door," Moana explained. "We thought maybe we could get out through the water, but there's a lot of it. We probably couldn't hold our breaths long enough to make it to the surface. I've tried to speak to the Ocean from here, but I don't think that's where this water comes from."

"So, in conclusion…" Pleakley stated, "WE'RE TRAPPED! IMPOSSIBLY TRAPPED! NO WAY OUT FOR US!"

"Okay, calm down," Sadira urged. "There has to be some way out of here. Have we tried those glowing doors on top of the wall?"

"We were discussing that next," Moana informed her.

"Here's the problem," Yuffie continued. "I think this is a place Ienzo told us about. Some dusty old research facility Xemnas used to use. He might have left traps or something to guard whatever it is he was researching down here. We didn't want to just go poking around while you were still out of it."

"It's safer for us to go together," Nora clarified, "and really not safe for you to be left alone at all."

"And DEFINITELY not safe to be bringing Lilo around," Pleakley asserted.

"Which is exactly why I wanna check out those doors!" Lilo said with a wide smile.

"Okay," Sadira confirmed. "The doors are our next move."

"That Even guy was pretty thorough," Pleakley pointed out. "You really think he just left us a way out?"

"We have to try SOMETHING!" Sadira cried. "Ugh, I can't believe he managed to knock us all out like that!"

"I can't believe Bridgit and Nikolai TRICKED us!" Moana added. "Those aren't even their real names, but I don't know what else to even call them, besides lying, slimy sons of – "

"AH-AHEM," Pleakley interrupted.

"…You know what I mean," Moana concluded.

"Well, that's the other reason we need to figure out how to get out of here," Yuffie said somberly. "So we can go back and warn the others about them before they do whatever they're planning to do to everyone else."

"It has to involve us," Moana stated. "We figured that much out while you were still out. Why else would we still be alive? They're trying to use us as bait for something."

"That makes sense," Sadira agreed. "I'm guessing these aren't the type who couldn't bring themselves to do us in for guilt reasons."

"That one guy in the helmet looked like he's already slaughtered hundreds," Lilo affirmed, "and wherever he goes, he leaves a trail of blood in his wake!"

"Didn't Ruby and the others talk about a guy with a skull helmet?" Nora recalled. "Because if he's who I think he is, that description isn't too far off."

"Let's just focus on getting out of here!" Yuffie insisted. She set her sights on the portals above. "So…which door?"

"Hmm." Sadira gave the room a once-over. "I feel like the symbols mean something."

"So let's pick the least dangerous one," Lilo suggested.

"The book looks pretty harmless," Nora suggested.

"You've never accidentally opened a book of Dark magic, have you?" Yuffie retorted. "Books aren't as harmless as you'd think. It might be some kind of forbidden library."

"That one's just a rectangle," Moana pointed out. "Maybe that one is safe?"

"If we don't know what kind of rectangle it is," Nora rebutted, "we can't say it's safe."

"Well, we're not picking the one with Even's shield," Sadira decided. "It's probably his lab or something, and I bet it has some kind of nasty surprise for anyone who tries to go in."

"What about that one?" Pleakley suggested, pointing to a door. "Does that look like a ukulele to you?"

"More like a guitar," Nora observed.

"It's a pretty weird-shaped guitar," Yuffie added, "but now that you've said it, I can't see anything else."

"It's too short to be an oud," Sadira mused. "Maybe it's a saz?"

"Ukuleles are safe!" Lilo pointed out. "Guitars are safe! Sazes are safe!"

"I wouldn't necessarily assume anything in this place is SAFE," Pleakley corrected, "but it sure beats our other options."

"Let's check it out," Sadira suggested.

The group used the stairway to ascend to the wall's top, then walked around to the blue door – shaped almost like a keyhole, now that they got a better look at it – marked with the musical instrument's silhouette. "Everyone ready?" Sadira asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be!" Nora said as she hoisted Magnhild high.

"I am absolutely not ready," Pleakley stated, "but I'm going in there anyway."

Sadira lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You'll be fine," she told him, looking directly into his eye. "You have all of us to protect you and Lilo. We're not letting anything bad happen to you."

"That…actually does make me feel a little better," Pleakley admitted.

"Come on," Sadira encouraged. "We might even have some fun while we're at it." She was the first to vanish into the blue.

"Now, THAT I doubt," Pleakley huffed as he followed her.

After proceeding through the door, the group found themselves in a locale that was strange by nature of its familiarity. It seemed they had all been transported to an outdoor arena, the ground tiled with blue and soft green in an area surrounded by high rock walls.

"The castle gate?" Yuffie wondered out loud. "Are we outside?"

"WE MADE IT!" Moana cried, turning to run toward the castle from that area. As soon as she reached the edge of the arena, she slammed hard into a transparent wall that sent her stumbling back. "I'm okay!" she called down.

Yuffie darted to the other end of the gate area, tapping a transparent wall at the other side. "We're fenced in."

"Maybe we're not really outside," Pleakley theorized. "Maybe this is some kind of advanced simulation."

"I really wish that didn't make sense," Yuffie sighed as she trudged back to the group.

"Why would Xemnas need to make a simulation of the castle gate?" Nora wondered out loud.

"Well – " Lilo began, about to volunteer a theory.

The entire group was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a cluster of numbers that shimmered into the air up until the point of forming a human silhouette. The numbers settled, giving way to natural skin and hair tones, clothing of black leather.

Moana tried taking a step toward the person who had seemed to appear. "Hello?" she attempted.

The response of the data projection of Demyx was to produce a Sitar, strum it, and send a cluster of forceful geysers up beneath the entire contingent, knocking them all off kilter and scattering them over the ground.

As soon as she hit the ground, sitting up quickly despite her aching body, Lilo cried, "Not safe! That musical instrument is NOT SAFE!"

"Stay back!" Nora told her, holding out a hand to insist that Lilo not move from her current position. "We've got this!" She rushed at data Demyx with Magnhild swinging.

Data Demyx gave a yell of "Dance, water, dance!" that sounded pre-recorded by some strange machine; his fingers danced over the strings of the sitar and strummed up a host of watery forms that converged upon Nora. She swung again and again, bursting them all one by one, then two by two.

Yuffie ran in from the side, throwing an arc of shuriken; each small disc was intercepted by a bubble of water. She kept running, drawing Demyx's attention to behind where he had been standing. More shuriken flew and were intercepted. Sadira, feeling this was an adequate diversion, tossed all of the sand in her purse to roll in a ball toward data Demyx's legs, where it unfolded and reformed into a shackle that enveloped both of his ankles. Without making a sound, data Demyx stumbled and tipped.

By that time, Moana had gotten close enough to him from the other side to deck him in the face. He hit the ground, giving his opponents a sense of triumph up until he played another set of notes that sent geysers rocketing into each of Moana, Nora, Yuffie, and Sadira's chests, knocking them all back.

Sadira skidded to where Pleakley and Lilo were crowded by the rear invisible wall. Before she could charge back into the fray, she heard Lilo cry, "It's the strings!"

"What about the strings?" Sadira asked.

"He's controlling the water with that instrument!" Lilo pointed out. "If you cut the strings, then he can't play anymore!"

"He can't!" Sadira realized. As she surged forth, she screamed, "YUFFIE!"

Yuffie had flipped back up onto her feet from the other side of the battlefield. "WHAT?" she yelled back.

"CUT THE STRINGS!" Sadira yelled, calling her sand back to her.

Data Demyx took that opportunity to stand, spinning so that his sitar's base was on a course to hit Sadira's head; it was blocked by a defensive wall of sand. The sand reforged itself into a blade, sailing toward the sitar; data Demyx conjured a stream of water that knocked it directly down to splat against the ground as wet mush. After that came a new wave of water forms that covered the battlefield, swinging out to strike whatever blows they could.

Sadira kicked one into droplets, aiming a punch at another one. Nora brought them down by the quintet using Magnhild; Yuffie expertly planted shurikens in each of the remaining forms. By that time, Moana had gotten close enough to data Demyx to leap onto his back, using her limbs to pin his arms to his sides. As he struggled, the water forms were dissipated, and Yuffie called the big shuriken to hand.

With a flick of her wrist, the massive star sailed through the air, arcing around to collide with the sitar. With a discordant noise, it cut through every single string. Data Demyx lost all balance then, toppling backward onto Moana. His hand scrambled to play more notes, but the broken strings yielded only emptiness.

Moana struggled out from beneath data Demyx as Nora stood over him. "You think this guy's just a simulation too?" she asked.

"I mean, we DID see him show up as a pile of numbers," Yuffie said with a shrug.

Nora lifted Magnhild high. "Good enough for me!"

When she brought it down over data Demyx's chest, data Demyx dissipated back into a series of numbers, then vanished in a bright light.

Another light simultaneously flashed into view: the keyhole shape that delineated the door leading from this area to the main cavern. "Should we go back?" Sadira wondered out loud.

"There's nowhere else TO go," Yuffie reminded her. "It's just a projection."

Feeling somewhat defeated despite their victory over data Demyx, the group shuffled back into the main cavern. Sadira, however, took the time to tell Lilo, "Great job thinking of the strings. That saved us a lot of trouble."

"Thanks!" Lilo replied. "Broken strings are really the bane of musicians everywhere."

"So I think I get it," Yuffie realized as they all climbed back down into the low-walled room. "There are thirteen portals, and thirteen members of Organization XIII. That was one of them, and that guitar thing was his weapon. Even's shield is his weapon, and that's on another door. I think each of these doors might lead to a different data projection of an Organization XIII member."

"That makes me really glad we didn't pick Even after all," Moana sighed.

"So there's no way out," Pleakley mourned, walking to the lower ice patch behind the computer terminal and leaning against it in defeat. "We're trapped in here until we learn the hard way about the horrible, painful fate our captors have for us."

"It is looking pretty grim," Sadira sighed, leaning against the same wall.

"Hey, wait," Yuffie realized, approaching the computer terminal. "Nobody's messed with this yet!" She struck a key, hoping to find some sort of revelation about the machine.

Meanwhile, Moana was alerted to a sound. The background noise of the rushing waters, flowing continuously upward, was still there, masking many minor sounds. All the same, she could hear a small drip, a splattering sound. Her eyes sought out the source of the noise.

"Okay, so our situation might have gone from bad to worse," Yuffie announced.

"Why?" Nora asked, moving in to stand beside her.

She immediately saw why. The computer screen displayed a timer that was ticking down second by second.

"Are we gonna blow up when that timer reaches zero?" Lilo asked, having gotten a good look herself. "That's how the villains always set it up in the movies. But the heroes disable it at the last second."

"I didn't see anything around here that looked like a bomb," Yuffie mused, "but that doesn't mean there ISN'T one…"

"Uhh, everyone?" Moana said loudly enough to get the attention in all of the room. "You're gonna wanna take a look at this."

She was staring directly at Sadira and Pleakley: more accurately, toward their midsections, where their hands hung casually at their sides, brushing the wall of ice. "What's wrong now?" Pleakley asked, panic rising.

"Your hands!" Moana said as Nora, Yuffie, and Lilo hurried to her side. "They're melting the ice!"

Sadira and Pleakley both looked down in astonishment. The places where their hands touched the ice wall were indeed now sources of running water, slowly but surely melting away a layer of the ice. "What's happening?" Pleakley said in shock.

"I don't – " Sadira began, but then stopped herself, a realization overcoming her. "Wait. I DO know. It's our bracelets! They're built with Blizzard resistance, remember?"

"So that means…" Pleakley turned around to face the ice wall, stripping off both his bracelet and his necklace to press them to the ice. Where they made contact, the melting was faster, the water running more freely. "If we use all our jewelry, we might be able to melt our way out!"

"YES!" Sadira cried, adding her bracelet, necklace, and earrings to the mix.

"So you mean to tell me," Nora said, stunned, "that your shopping spree actually GOT US A WAY TO ESCAPE?"

"You bet it did!" Sadira affirmed, just a little bit smug.

"One problem," Yuffie said. "I don't think that's going to be fast enough to beat the timer."

"But it might get that ice thin enough that I can finally smash it down," Nora pointed out. "Keep it up, then lemme have a crack at it!"

"You got it!" Sadira replied.

She turned and gave Pleakley a victorious smile. Upon catching her glance, he returned it.

...

Though the sun shone down brightly upon Hyrule Castle, the barrier of Darkness still held firm around its front gate. This was quite obvious to Wuya, Mozenrath, Yzma, Roman, Zevon, Irmaplotz, Demyx, and Hans, who stood in a row before that exact location.

"Are we SURE this is a good idea?" Demyx asked nervously. "I mean, this is the guy who set up all the spirits to give us the hard time they did. He's not gonna be easy to take down."

"Don't worry," Wuya said with a grin. "This is going to be fun."

Demyx didn't like the way she'd said that.

She withdrew another dao from the air, passing it to Hans. "Don't break this one," she warned. "I can't just make those for you forever."

"So I got unlucky!" Hans groaned. "It's not going to be a recurring thing!"

"Technically, you can make swords for him forever," Mozenrath pointed out.

"You're right," Wuya affirmed. "It's just that I refuse to. Now, does anyone have any other objections?"

"I have plenty," Demyx stated, "but they're not going to be listened to."

"I should also take this time to remembind you all that I'm out of potions," Zevon stated. "Technically speaking, I'm now inoperationive."

"Just stay out of the fray," Wuya told him, "and leave the big fish to us."

"Perhaps you should wait outside," Yzma suggested, suddenly shivering from a worry.

"I'm not missing the kerscuffle!" Zevon insisted.

"You all remember the plan?" Wuya asked. "A red firework is the signal."

"So long as she's there," Roman confirmed, "there's no way this will go wrong."

"Good," Wuya replied, the smirk now overtaking her face. "And with that out of the way…"

She leapt into the air, turning a full 360 degrees in flight. Her foot extended, colliding with the Dark barrier.

A great crack appeared where she had kicked, traveling all the way up the shield's surface and rending it before it burst into a thousand tiny shards or more, fading into smoky wisps and leaving the castle undefended.

"Let's go," Wuya commanded, leading the way inside.

Within the cathedral-like structure atop the castle that housed the throne room, Ganondorf sat upon the throne while Ursula and Cinder flanked him. The changes Hyrule had undergone had not gone unnoticed by them. As they had noticed more and more of the land become restored to Light, they had conferred about who must have been responsible, and they came to one conclusion: Link (or, as Ursula referred to him, "the little swordfish") and Zelda had discovered a way to thwart the villains' plans.

"And now they've broken the barrier," Cinder observed.

"Good," Ganondorf said smugly.

"HOW is this good?" Cinder asked through gritted teeth. "They've undone all we did, and now they're coming for us!"

"Forgive her," Ursula told Ganondorf. "She's still new at the overtaking game. Listen, angelfish, we couldn't ask for a better setup than them walking right up to us and thinking they could beat us at our game. They're swimming right into our net."

"If you say so," Cinder replied in a low tone. Flames sprung up to encircle her eyes, winging outward away from her face.

"Someone's been playing a few too many rounds of poker with Hades," Ursula remarked.

"It will take them time to progress through the castle." Ganondorf slowly rose, drawing his sword. "If they wish to find us, that is exactly what they will get."

Within moments, the sound of footsteps became audible coming up the stairway to the throne room.

"Come in, come in, little swordfish," Ursula murmured. "Judging by the sounds of the footsteps, he's picked up some friends – "

Her words caught in her throat as Wuya came striding confidently into the throne room with her seven compatriots in tow.

"Hello, Ganny," she greeted.

"WHAT?" Cinder yelled. "THEM? HERE?"

"You got it, bitch queen," Roman said with a smile.

"Well, this is unexpected," Ursula commented. She then shrugged; "But I can work with it." She fixed her gaze directly upon Mozenrath; "We have been meaning to wipe you off the map for a while now."

"Maybe if you wish upon a star, it'll come true someday!" Mozenrath said in a mockingly eager tone.

Ganondorf's expression remained passive as he stared directly into Wuya's eyes: eyes he had long ago found a spark in that lit a fire beneath his cold heart up until the day he had frozen the works for his own good. "So you've returned," he stated in a tone just as icy. "The years have been good to you."

"Too bad I can't say the same for you," Wuya replied. Though that was quite a lie; Ganondorf looked as good as ever, and she hated it. She had hoped he would have been dealt some unkindness that would make it apparent she had come away from their relationship the victor.

"You've come to destroy me," Ganondorf asked, "haven't you?"

"You were sitting here waiting for me to come be destroyed BY you, weren't you?" Wuya retaliated.

"We were expecting someone else," Ganondorf admitted. "However, I think I will enjoy this more."

"Ahem," Yzma broke in. "This sounds oddly like flirting. You two don't still…?"

"Well?" Wuya asked Ganondorf. "Do we have a snowball's chance in Death Mountain?"

"I would never waste my time so again," Ganondorf stated calmly. "Would that I could get back what I already spent."

"You know," Wuya realized, "you really bore me." She tossed a quick glance to Yzma; "So that's a no."

"You two had a thing?" Ursula realized. "Well, there's no accounting for taste."

"There isn't," Ganondorf agreed, "is there?"

"Well then," Wuya proposed, "for old times' sake, should we settle this once and for all?" She crossed her arms, then flung them apart, wielding a dao in each.

"Ending you may be the most pleasure you can give me," Ganondorf replied.

Without further warning, she flew at him, and he bolted toward her.

Ursula summoned a column of dark smog to surround her at the same time Cinder became edged by an aura of flame. Their opponents were ready for this; Demyx, Roman, and Hans rushed toward Cinder, weapons in hand, while Mozenrath, Irmaplotz, and Yzma headed off Ursula. Zevon flattened himself against the wall, hoping to look inconspicuous.

Both of Wuya's swords crashed against Ganondorf's blade. He drew back for another blow; she spun and ducked underneath it, stabbing for his legs. Ganondorf took two great steps back to evade her before aiming a kick directly at her stomach. She took it, somersaulting backward and losing the swords in the process – though her grip on them hadn't been that tight; they had mostly been for show. She could work more freely without them. She immediately sprang to her feet, spinning a kick at Ganondorf. He attempted to use the opening to slice off the offending foot, but she was faster, her heel slamming into his chest. He felt it then: the might of the Triforce of Power bolstering Wuya's every move. The kick sent him sliding back a few inches and left a sore spot. He responded by drawing back his free fist, flinging it at Wuya's face. She seized his wrist in both hands, used it as a springboard to flip up over his head, and came down planting both of her feet into his back. He quickly whirled to slice his blade at her; she leaned back impossibly far, letting the sword pass over her face. One of Wuya's legs jackknifed into Ganondorf's solar plexus, dealing him a decent amount of pain.

In the meantime, Cinder hurled fireball after fireball directly at Roman's face. She was struck with shock when Demyx plucked at the strings of his sitar and summoned up a bubble of water to match each salvo she fired. He struck a ringing chord, and an utter tidal wave washed over Cinder, dousing her fiery aura. She called another flame to hand; Demyx immediately doused it with a thick jet of water.

"Oh, now that's just too bad!" Roman laughed. "Take away your Maiden powers, and what are you?"

"A warrior," Cinder replied, twirling violently; when she completed her spin, she held in her hands a pair of jet-black swords.

"Dishwater," Roman commanded, "do your thing."

Demyx made a dramatic leap before bringing his hand down hard on the sitar's strings; "DANCE, WATER, DANCE!"

A crowd of watery forms sprang up before Cinder. She sliced through them one by one with her blades, each dissipating in a spray. While Cinder was diverted, Roman took aim with the Cudgel.

And was immediately set off course when Cinder's sword locked with the Cudgel's shaft, making the shot go wild and hit the ceiling so that bits of stone rained down. Now Cinder and Roman were locked in a spar, Roman parrying every blow Cinder attempted upon him.

Hans rushed at Cinder with his own blade, but she was ready; she held off Roman with one hand while blocking Hans' sword with the other. All the while, she knew she was still a target. Without warning, she sped into the sky just as Demyx set up another blow; Roman and Hans were both knocked back by the fountains he conjured up from the ground.

"ANY TIME, EYELINER!" Roman yelled.

Simultaneously, Ursula soared over Mozenrath and Irmaplotz, dropping bombs of Darkness upon them rapidly. Mozenrath swatted each attack aside with his right hand, aglow with magic; Irmaplotz simply punched the Dark attacks into exploding. At her whim, electricity shot out of thin air toward the two mages; Mozenrath collected it in a bright blue disc-shaped shield, then flung the energy-charged disc back at Ursula. As she attempted to catch it, it exploded, soaring around her and coming back at her in fragments.

Fragments that she simply let bounce off a larger, spherical deflection shield that surrounded her.

"I mean, points for presentation," Irmaplotz commented.

She followed that up by hurling a beam of green magic directly at Ursula; Ursula met it with a beam of her own, one composed of crimson heat. Ursula's beam overwhelmed Irmaplotz's, striking the princess and effectively charring her.

"I'm okay," Irmaplotz coughed, smoke trailing from her mouth.

Ursula twisted her hands in the air, summoning up a new pattern. A ring of lightning surrounded Irmaplotz, trails of electricity whipping inward and shocking her before the whole ring collapsed on her and sent jolts of pain through her entire body.

"I am less okay," she said weakly before collapsing forward onto her stomach.

Another ring of lightning surrounded Mozenrath; he quickly covered himself with a dome-shaped deflection shield, which the ring squeezed as though it were rubber. Ursula casually tossed a handful of smog down at the shield's top; there was a crack in the dome upon impact. After the second one put Mozenrath's shield that much closer to splitting in half, he began to sweat.

All the while, Yzma, practically cackling to herself that she had been forgotten about in comparison to the mages, took aim with her atlatl, ready to launch a dart directly at Ursula.

"You take me for a fool," Ganondorf accused as he dealt Wuya a punch that sent her flying back through the air several feet.

Before she could make impact with the wall, Wuya caught herself in midair, zooming forward to land a punch of her own on Ganondorf's stomach and toppling him onto his behind. "You're the one underestimating me," she retorted, "as per usual."

Ganondorf struck outward with his sword; as Wuya sailed higher to evade it, he scrambled to his feet. "Power alone will not save you," he told her. "Strength will only aid you in a battle of strength."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Wuya asked as she jackknifed down behind him, striking him in the back with her heel.

He remembered the way Yzma had looked at her when she had asked if Wuya and Ganondorf still felt sparks. It was perhaps too brief of an interaction from which to draw a conclusion, but he felt sure in his conjecture. As Wuya took her fallen swords back into hand and jammed them both at Ganondorf, he became immaterial Darkness, letting the blades pierce empty air. He flowed past Wuya, surging toward Yzma as the purple-clad woman lined up her shot against Ursula.

"NO!" Wuya screamed.

Before Yzma could fully register what was happening, the Darkness that was Ganondorf had flowed into her, absorbed by her skin. Her atlatl fell to the floor, bouncing with a metallic ring before settling down. Her eyes shut as she reeled woozily.

"YZMA!" Wuya cried, though she knew it was in vain. She was well aware of what Ganondorf had just done.

When Yzma's eyes opened, they no longer belonged to Yzma. Ganondorf's soul was piloting her body. With a smug smile, Ganondorf-as-Yzma rose into the air, floating toward Wuya with a victorious air.

Wuya then knew she wouldn't be sending up the signal for the plan anytime soon.

Ganondorf forged a ball of red-hot energy between Yzma's hands, launching it toward Wuya.

From her position in the air, Cinder dodged shot after shot from the Cudgel; the ceiling looked ever the worse for wear. Demyx's fountains also failed to hit their mark. Cinder's swords became a bow, strung up with three arrows that she sent rocketing toward Hans. One well-timed shot from Roman blasted through the shafts of all three at once, breaking the arrows down before they could hit their mark.

"You get to lay the fuck off the insults for a while for that one!" Roman yelled at Hans.

"Okay, that was a nice shot," Hans admitted. "Demyx, can you get me up high? I want to try and strike at her."

"Going up!" Demyx declared, playing the notes that sent a fountain up under Hans.

After winning the struggle of keeping his balance on highly pressurized water, Hans swung his blade at Cinder's back. Cinder retaliated by quickly swapping her bow out for the twin swords once more, slamming them hard into Hans' blade.

What happened next was only the inevitable.

As Wuya batted aside the first attack from Yzma-Ganondorf, the metal shards from Hans' blade rained down over her. "STOP BREAKING THOSE!" she snapped.

The fountain was let down, and Hans stumbled onto the ground. "Okay, it's all you," he declared.

Cinder spread her arms wide, letting fire rain from above.

"YIPE!" Demyx cried, putting up a shield of water over himself, Hans, and Roman as the fragments of flame rained down. They could hear each attack sizzling against the dome.

"Any TIME, EYELINER!" Roman reiterated.

The dome over Mozenrath cracked completely in half; the shield split apart and crumbled to pieces. The ring of electricity immediately snapped onto Mozenrath, sending painful volts charging through his flesh. As he fell onto his back, he was somewhat amazed he wasn't dead. He was just aware enough of his surroundings to notice Ursula hovering over him and a bright red light emitting from her hands: another beam of heat, ready to sear him alive.

Irmaplotz quickly stepped into the beam's path, catching it in both of her magic-covered hands. "Stay…off…my…FRIEND!" she grunted, doing her best to push back with her own energy.

Mozenrath didn't have the time to overanalyze the label she had placed on him, even though, despite the general status of the WHAM ARMY as friends, Mozenrath had been doubtful of his bond with Irmaplotz. Instead of thinking on it, he hurried to a standing position, throwing his own right hand in the path of the beam and adding his magic to Irmaplotz's. Together, they were finally able to force the heat all the way back up to Ursula, who cried out as it backfired on her.

"That's it!" Ursula resolved. "You've bitten off more than you can chew!" She lowered herself to Irmaplotz and Mozenrath's level, hurling ball after ball of the Dark smog at them. Green and blue darts of energy zipped through the air, taking them down one by one, though it was clear that Ursula was gaining ground; Mozenrath and Irmaplotz were both tiring.

Yzma-Ganondorf launched another ball at Wuya; Wuya flipped into the air and over it, landing neatly on her feet with catlike grace. "I was right," Ganondorf said through Yzma's mouth, using her voice (and, in Wuya's view, absolutely polluting it). "You wouldn't hurt this body. You really have gone soft."

A plan began to form in Wuya's mind. "You're nothing in that body," she reminded Ganondorf. "I could kill you in one blow."

"You could kill this body in one blow," Ganondorf corrected, lobbing another orb. "I would exit it unharmed."

"But it would still hurt like heck," Wuya pointed out, batting the projectile aside.

"It doesn't matter," Ganondorf told her. "You would never do it."

"Wouldn't I?" Wuya challenged. "I told you. You keep underestimating me."

She clapped her hands together, her entire body surrounded by a lime-colored aura that burst into flame.

To Ganondorf, it seemed like the perfect crime. The fact that Wuya was actually willing to kill her ally to oust Ganondorf was all too delicious. He knew the only move to make was to exit Yzma at the last second, letting Wuya know that what she had killed was purely Yzma. He did not know of the depth of the connection the two women had, but he knew it would cause Wuya some discomfort, even if only an inconvenience at having sacrificed an ally.

Wuya let the flames fly in a direct line speeding toward Yzma-Ganondorf.

As Darkness, Ganondorf rose out of Yzma's body, reforming into his Gerudo shape some distance away. Yzma blinked and shook her head, trying to make sense of what was happening before her. The flames were mere inches away from striking her down –

They curved, forming a path around Yzma before burning out.

"Didn't I tell you that you underestimated me?" Wuya called over to Ganondorf. "I can't believe you didn't see that fakeout coming." She, of course, had known Ganondorf's intent to leave Yzma's body for her to destroy the moment she made her threat clear.

"What just happened?" Yzma wondered out loud.

"Don't worry about it," Wuya reassured her. She turned her attention to Ganondorf. Locking eyes with him, she threw one hand high in the air, letting a bright red burst explode from it.

"Was that just the signal?" Demyx said in a panic.

"You bet your ass it was!" Roman affirmed. "Drop the shield!"

"But – "

"DROP THE SHIELD!"

Demyx let the water fall away, and as planned, he, Roman, and Hans took off running, making sure to stay in a group. This, of course, meant dodging Cinder's rain of flames; one of Roman's sleeves and Hans' pant leg both ignited, requiring Demyx to quickly douse the fire. Cinder switched to her bow, shooting arrows of obsidian after the running targets; Roman, knowing that was coming, turned quickly enough to block the arrows, their tips sticking into the Cudgel's shaft.

Determined, Cinder gave chase, flying after the trio with flames abound. In order to properly carry the sitar, Demyx had slung the bulk of it onto Hans; the pair held it aloft while Demyx played, sending jets of water back at Cinder. Cinder dodged left and right, gaining on her targets in distance and very nearly catching them before a fountain of water slammed her backward, starting her from square one, where she took to throwing fireballs once more only to be thwarted by Demyx's playing. The trio made a veritable loop of the perimeter of the throne room on their way to where Ursula continued her assault on Mozenrath and Irmaplotz.

Both of whom she had managed to bowl over with Dark smog. She floated over them, pinching both of their cheeks and saying in a syrupy tone, "Leave this gig to the professionals next time."

"What are you going to do now?" Mozenrath asked. "Destroy me?"

"Well, that depends," Ursula admitted. "Would it be more satisfying to kill you, or to start by making you watch your little girlfriend die?"

"Girlfriend?" Irmaplotz repeated. "Ew. That's not – we do NOT have that kind of relationship. He's, like, twenty-seven."

"I'M TWENTY-FIVE," Mozenrath reiterated.

"Always a pity when they die young," Ursula commented.

That was when Roman, Hans, and Demyx came barreling by. "We'll take THAT!" Hans declared as he let go of the sitar to reach down and seize Mozenrath's upper arm. Demyx stumbled with the sitar before dismissing it outright, pulling Irmaplotz to her feet as Hans did the same for Mozenrath. Mozenrath and Irmaplotz flicked their hands back at Ursula as they made their getaway; chains sprouted up from the floor and wrapped around Ursula, holding her down. As she struggled, the two mages took care of Cinder in the same manner.

Seeing the plan almost fully realized, Wuya retrieved her swords once more, looking Ganondorf dead in the eye. Once more, they charged each other, but before they could clash, Wuya launched high into the air, bringing herself down hard so that her feet slammed into Ganondorf's back and shoved him toward the far wall. Yzma charged past his stumble, following Wuya.

Where Zevon was already waiting, Mozenrath, Irmaplotz, Demyx, Roman, Hans, Yzma, and Wuya crowded, pressing against the wall. By that time, Ursula and Cinder had both seared through their chains with just a bit of red-hot magic. As they shook off their bindings, Ganondorf regained his balance. "Look at them cower," Cinder remarked.

"Even with the Triforce of Power," Ganondorf stated, "they are no match for our might."

"Pity Maleficent isn't here to – " Ursula began. She then noticed, as Cinder and Ganondorf noticed, that all eight of their targets were cheekily waving them goodbye. "What are they doing THAT for?"

During the chase around the room, none had been paying explicit attention to Roman. Therefore, none had noticed him tossing all the bombs he had in his bag to the far corners of the room. And none had realized that Cinder, passing by them with her aura aglow, had lit every single fuse.

They all realized far too late that they were standing amongst the cluster of bombs while the WHAM ARMY was just out of range.

The explosion was tremendous and terrible. The rear half of the throne room collapsed entirely, the ceiling giving way for complete visibility of the sky as stone bricks rained down. Cinder and Ursula were singed and battered, stumbling back through the collapsing room as their burns pierced.

Ursula knew when to cut her losses. "This isn't over," she vowed as she conjured a Corridor of Darkness back to base; she and Cinder both backed into it.

The eight of the WHAM ARMY watched the rear half of the room become little more than an enormous dust cloud that blocked out visibility. "You know," Mozenrath remarked, "it was my plan, and I still can't believe they fell for it."

"And whose bombs made the whole thing work?" Roman insisted.

"Anyone could have carried and thrown those bombs," Hans groaned.

"It is rather odd that Maleficent herself wasn't here," Yzma pointed out.

"It isn't an odditery at all!" Zevon proclaimed, stepping out front of the crowd, his back to the still-swirling dust cloud. "Obviousmently, Maleficent is too much of a coward to show up herself! She knows by now she can't actually defanquish us!" He stepped back to put himself even more in the view of the others, putting himself closer to the shadow that was beginning to loom out of the dust. "I think it's finally sinking in that we're a force to be reckonated with!"

"ZEVON!" Yzma and Wuya cried, knowing what was about to happen just a second too late.

Ganondorf finally emerged from the dust, showing only a few bruises for wear. He seized Zevon from behind, wrapping one hand tightly over Zevon's face and bolting the other arm over his chest. Zevon gave a sharp cry and began to struggle, but he didn't have long to do so.

Ganondorf twisted: one sharp motion.

The crack was muffled, but to the other seven of the WHAM ARMY, it was as though it had echoed throughout the entirety of what had been the throne room.

Zevon's lifeless body slumped to the floor.

"No," Yzma muttered, eyes wide and glued to the corpse of her son. "No…no, no, NO!"

The others gaped in surprise, silent. All but Wuya. She locked eyes with Ganondorf, growling, "You're going to pay for that." Her aura sprang into green flames that roared toward the half of the ceiling still supported in place.

Ganondorf responded by first appearing to collapse, falling forward onto his hands and knees. His position of apparent weakness was soon revealed to be far more sinister. His entire body melted into Darkness, expanding and growing. He shifted into something much, much larger, standing on all fours – now no longer on hands and knees, but supported on four clawed feet. His shape began to gel into something solid, displaying colors. Dark fur blanketed his body, save for the bright red mane that cascaded back from his snouted face. A pair of pointed tusks protruded forward, gleaming in the sunlight. In the form of a great boar, the divine beast Ganon towered over the now seven living challengers from the WHAM ARMY.

"What now?" Mozenrath asked, slightly nervous; Wuya had never mentioned this.

"Run," Wuya said calmly.

Ganon barged straight at the seven; all but Wuya scattered, finding refuge in the rest of the throne room, some clambering up onto the fallen pile of ceiling in the back. Wuya seized Ganon's tusks head-on, wrestling with him until he dissipated into Darkness once more.

"All that buildup just for that?" Demyx remarked. "That wasn't very – "

Ganon emerged from thin air directly behind Demyx; the latter's fast reflexes saved him, and he somersaulted away from the boar's great claws before he could be trampled.

Ganon then made a beeline for Mozenrath, who made a flying dive out of the way; the boar was gone again, only to reappear right in front of Roman, who sidestepped him by a hair. His rampage took him toward Yzma, who cartwheeled out of the way, and a disappearing and reappearing act put him in Hans' way just before Mozenrath fired a spell that teleported Hans across the room.

As Ganon barreled toward Irmaplotz, he suddenly felt himself hindered. Irmaplotz had attempted to chain him to the floor. A simple tug snapped the chain, and Ganon was free to rampage once more. Mozenrath, catching on, linked a chain of his own around Ganon's neck. The beast shook this one with a little more difficulty.

Yzma had scooped up her atlatl at that point, letting a dart fly at Ganon. It stuck into his side, where it had absolutely no effect. Yzma's face fell as Wuya, still surging with fire, floated to her side, informing her, "He's too powerful to be defeated by mere potions! We need something stronger!"

"HE KILLED MY SON!" Yzma reminded Wuya. "I want him DEAD!"

"Believe me," Wuya seethed, "so do I. Well, actually, before, I wanted him dead. Now that he's killed Zevon, I want him to suffer excruciating torment."

"So what do we do?" Yzma asked.

Wuya watched Ganon break through another chain Mozenrath had attempted to lay. "Hmm…that might not be a bad idea…" She snapped her fingers. "We need everyone back together!"

"EVERYONE!" Yzma yelled, sprinting across the room to stand by Mozenrath's side. "TO ME!"

Hans, Irmaplotz, and Roman rushed immediately to Yzma and Mozenrath. Demyx hesitated, then figured he was better off following the group than chancing it alone in a room with a rampaging monster. Wuya finally settled in before the others, facing Ganon down.

Wuya thrust out her hands; stronger chains than those Mozenrath or Irmaplotz could conjure sprouted from the floor and looped around Ganon's neck. "KEEP CHAINING HIM!" she cried.

Mozenrath and Irmaplotz summoned chains to snake up around each of Ganon's paws; he was able to break them easily, but the three mages kept the chains coming, forging three more for every one Ganon snapped. Finally, a web of chains held him somewhat in place.

"Now hit him with EVERYTHING YOU HAVE!" Wuya yelled, shooting the green of her aura forward as a rush of energy. After it connected, she called up the plethora of weapons she reserved for her toughest foes into the air, planting swords, axes, and pikes all around Ganon.

Mozenrath launched a sphere of blue that burst into shards, each shard flying to a different part of Ganon's body and sizzling the skin there. Irmaplotz hurled an onslaught of green bolts while Roman fired again and again from the Cudgel. Demyx surrounded Ganon with a throng of watery forms that struck out at him from all sides before hitting his face with a barrage of bubbles. Yzma and Hans knew there was nothing they could do, but they watched in awe as Ganon began to falter. Wuya then commanded the weapons to strike their marks; the clash of metal fell together across Ganon's body, leaving deep wounds.

Only divine weapons could kill Ganon or any iteration of him. This Wuya knew, and she had nothing of the sort upon her, nor did any of her allies. But Ganon could still be wounded and winded, and as he slumped within his chains, it seemed the WHAM ARMY had succeeded in doing exactly that. He collapsed to the floor, heaving his breaths.

That was when Wuya, in a fit of creativity, dropped an entire elevator onto his head.

After that blow, Ganon's body shivered, losing its form. He shrank back down into the shape of a man; Ganondorf struggled to draw breath, shaking off the chains that bound him.

A Corridor of Darkness appeared behind him. "Cut your losses, angelfish," Ursula's voice beckoned.

Giving the WHAM ARMY a glare that was almost enough to kill, Ganondorf built up enough energy to rush into the Corridor, which immediately snapped shut.

Wuya stumbled onto her knees then, out of breath herself. "What's wrong?" Yzma asked in concern as the others leaned over her.

Wuya raised her hand; the Triforce mark was rapidly fading. "The power he lent the others depended on him being in a radius of a couple worlds or less," she explained. "Without him, no Triforce of Power. Except the one he always has."

Now knowing Wuya was otherwise all right, Yzma scurried to hover over Zevon's body. "No," she said plaintively as she lowered herself to her knees and placed her hands over the corpse, "no, no, no, it CAN'T be…"

"Um," Mozenrath tried to interrupt, "Yzma?"

"Not NOW, Mozenrath!" Yzma snapped, glaring at him over her shoulder. "Can't you see I'm grieving?"

Irmaplotz made her way to stand over Zevon. "He really wasn't a bad guy," she said mournfully. "He might've been one of my best friends here."

"He actually liked me," Demyx added, joining her. "There really aren't many people that like me. And now there's one less of them alive."

"Listen, I didn't know him," Hans added, "so maybe I shouldn't talk. But he had an infectious positive attitude. That's…gonna be hard to lose."

"I was actually getting attached to him," Roman sighed, moving into place with the others.

Wuya simply placed a hand on Yzma's shoulder.

"You realize you're all making too much of a scene about this," Mozenrath pointed out.

"Mozenrath," Wuya growled, "I know you're hardly the empathetic sort, but could you at least PRETEND to have a heart? I know he meant something to you too!"

Mozenrath just rolled his eyes before flicking his gauntlet at the empty air next to him.

With a shimmer, Zevon, outfitted in a new body and clothes identical to those he'd worn upon his deathbed, appeared fully resurrected beside Mozenrath.

Everyone simultaneously realized why Mozenrath had been unfazed by his death.

"That was harrowling," Zevon remarked. "I almost thought I was deadceased for a moment. I even had a dream that I went into the light and was depositoried at the Under…" His eyes traveled over his own corpse. "…world…"

"I'm so used to making new bodies for my resurrections," Mozenrath stated, "it's more second nature to do that than to just put the soul back in the old one."

"YOU MEAN I ACTUALLY PERISHABLED?" Zevon cried in horror.

Everyone else smiled at him. "It's good to have you back!" Yzma insisted as she approached him, arms wide – then drawn back; she wasn't used to hugging others, and while it seemed the correct gesture to give one's newly resurrected son, she wasn't sure if it applied.

"Maybe hold off on the embraceling," Zevon suggested.

Yzma sighed in relief; she was off the hook.

Wuya smiled, glad to see both Yzma and Zevon alive and emotionally sound. It then occurred to her that perhaps Ganondorf had been right about her being soft. She was of no mind to pay any attention to anything he said, but she still steeled herself and turned away from the sight. "We have bigger fish to fry," she stated. "Now that Ganondorf is taken care of – "

"You mean Ganny?" Demyx teased.

"Watch it," Wuya growled, "or I might take advantage of the fact that among us, death is cheap."

"Noted," Demyx said with a tremulous voice.

"Now that Ganondorf is taken care of," Wuya went on, "we have a certain Twilight princess to find."

Mozenrath strode past her, out the door of the throne room to the outdoor stairway and the balcony below it. "As long as we're here and technically in control of this castle," he said, "we might as well enjoy the view."

The eight gathered up on the balcony, looking out over Castle Town and Hyrule beyond. "It's all Light again now," Irmaplotz observed.

"I'm glad Mim isn't here to see this," Yzma commented.

"Is anyone else tired?" Demyx asked. "Like, dead tired. Playing that much took a lot out of me."

"You're always tired," Mozenrath reminded him. Then, after a sigh, "but that was pretty magically draining. It might be in our best interest to recuperate before chasing after the princess."

"It was pretty hard on those of us without magic, too," Roman offered up.

"I feel fine," Zevon stated.

"Of course you feel fine!" Yzma groaned. "You just came back from the dead!"

"I think we should just kick it here," Irmaplotz suggested. "We do have the whole castle to ourselves, after all. And by the way, keeping these glasses on has made everything SO much better." She swept her gaze over the view below. "I can see EVERYTHING. The buildings, the people running at full tilt down the main road toward the castle gates, the lake in the distance, the forest – "

"THE WHAT?" the others chorused at her.

"The forest?" Irmaplotz repeated.

"Before that!" Yzma urged.

"Oh," Irmaplotz realized. "The lake. You can see it just on the edge of the horizon if you – "

"BEFORE. THAT," Mozenrath growled.

"You mean the people running at full tilt down the main…" Irmaplotz trailed off as actual realization set in. "Oh. Yeah, I see how that could be a problem."

Everyone's gazes were drawn to the road Irmaplotz had drawn attention to. Wuya conjured up handheld telescopes for everyone to look through. The first thing she noticed was Sora taking the lead. "Great," she sighed. "The idiot with the giant key is here. As if we needed HIM right now."

"Okay," Roman brought up, "is it just me, or does that one chick look like the people we fought in the Twilight Realm?"

Zevon consulted the compass. "The needle is directionated at her. She must be the Twilight princess!"

"Ohhhhh, this is too perfect," Yzma remarked.

"Or it would be," Hans reminded her, "if we weren't all dead tired."

Mozenrath suddenly threw down his telescope, shattering it against the stone floor. "No," he growled. "NO. How…did HE…find us HERE?"

"That's the thing about Sora," Demyx replied. "He tends to show up exactly where you don't want – "

"NOT HIM," Mozenrath roared. "I'M TALKING ABOUT ALADDIN!"

"Wait, which one is he?" Yzma asked. "The really handsome one in the vest?"

"He is pretty hot," Irmaplotz agreed.

"HE IS NOT HANDSOME!" Mozenrath screamed. "I'LL DESTROY HIM!" Then, suddenly calm: "…I can destroy him. He's walking right into my territory. This could work out better than expected."

"Are you in any shape to fight him?" Yzma asked.

"I'll answer for him," Wuya volunteered. "No. He is absolutely not. And do you know why? Because he is accompanied by the people who have routinely made mockeries of us AS WELL AS the Twili bearing the Fused Shadow. And that Fused Shadow has the ability to turn her into something potentially worse to deal with than Ganon. It will take all eight of us working together to face her alone, not taking any of the others into account. And that's what we need to do first: separate her from the others and take her on ALONE."

"I let you take on your enemy," Mozenrath seethed. "Let me destroy mine."

"Maybe," Wuya told him, "IF we can extract the Fused Shadow from the princess. Or you can go against all common sense and run into a death trap. We can't bring YOU back from the dead, after all."

Mozenrath rolled his eyes. "Fine. We'll do this your way. How do you want to get the princess alone?"

"Brute force won't work here," Wuya mused. "We'll have to start with some sort of deception."

"Actually," Hans said as he focused his telescope on Zelda, "I might have just the way to do it."


	63. Suspicions Confirmed

63\. Suspicions Confirmed

Mim had spared no effort enchanting the entire warship, top to bottom, to oust the Boogeyman. Sigils were drawn beneath every window. Herbs were sprinkled on many a floor. It all led up to the circle in the control room, which was composed of crushed rose quartz and amethyst chips.

"I hate, hate, HATE working with rose quartz," Mim huffed as she poured the last of it into place, completing the circle.

"Then why do you even have it?" Ravess asked.

Mim and Aghoul had asked all the others to gather in the control room. They had claimed it was to keep an eye on everyone during the spell's casting and prevent the Boogeyman from getting to any of them, but Ravess had a feeling it was all a move to get them to believe in the Boogeyman. She was still sure it was all some sort of prank, and they would watch an invisible "entity" inside the circle do some kind of parlor trick before Mim would zap it away and claim she had "defeated" it. The group had been summoned in somewhat of a hurry; Ravess still carried her violin and its bow.

"Because it does banish creatures of nightmares," Mim explained. "It's one of the few GOOD magics I can actually find a use for. Now to charge the crystals and prepare the circle."

"What are you going to charge them with?" Aghoul asked. "There's no starlight or moonlight out in the middle of interspace."

"Not to mention no sunlight," Xayide added.

"You think I would charge my spells with SUNLIGHT?" Mim gasped. "What sort of goody-goody do you take me for?"

"My apologies," Xayide replied. "Could you not simply energize them with your natural magic?"

"Didn't you hear a word I said?" Mim snapped. "Quartz crystals are GOOD magic! I'm evil to the core! I don't have a good spark in my system! If I tried to charge those crystals myself, they'd just get all soiled with the evil and not work anymore! Hmm. I suppose there is elemental charging…or…" Mim snapped her fingers. "Aha! That's it! We can use SOUND!"

Ravess knew where this was going when Mim turned to her. "Ravess, it's all on you," the latter declared. "Play the crystals something on your violin. That will get them charged and ready to cast."

"You've taken this Boogeyman fallacy far enough," Ravess growled. "I absolutely REFUSE to get involved musically. Or, for that matter, put any effort into your little stage show."

"Ravess," Xayide cautioned, "it is no fallacy. If you do not help us, we may all be doomed to eternal nightmares."

"You've never even SEEN the Boogeyman!" Ravess snapped.

"Ravess," Scarlet added, "I don't mean to sound pushy, but if you don't help cast that spell that has a good chance of getting rid of our nightmares, I WILL MAKE YOUR LIFE HECK."

"Oh, so now YOU believe," Ravess remarked.

"I'm just ready to do anything to get rid of the nightmares at this point," Scarlet said somewhat raggedly. "I need to go back to sleep."

"Then go back to sleep," Ravess told her, "and if Mim and Aghoul have any decency, they won't plague you this time."

"For the last time, it wasn't us!" Aghoul insisted.

"Play violin!" Xerxes insisted. "Play violin!"

"It is a pity," Xayide sighed, realizing what tactic she had to change to, "that we won't be graced with a performance from you today. Perhaps you're right, and the Boogeyman isn't real after all. But the moment Mim mentioned it, I became curious to hear more of your prowess. The music you played for us to dance to was so beautiful, I wanted more. So much more."

"You're trying to flatter me into playing, aren't you?" Ravess said flatly.

"Boogeyman or no Boogeyman," Peter added, "she does have a point. I was rather looking forward to hearing more of your mellifluous music."

"Your violin skills are pretty rad," Herb said with a nod.

"Well…" Ravess had to admit this tactic was working. Even if it was all a charade on Mim's part, she was more than inclined to give the public a show and earn some praise. "All right. I'll play you a little something."

"Not just any old thing," Mim insisted. "You have to play something that makes you think of good dreams. Play the theme song of your BEST dream."

"My best dream?" Ravess repeated. She wondered just what that might be as she lifted the violin to her chin, positioning it perfectly and raising the bow. What did she want to dream of more than anything? What did she want, in general, more than anything?

Since her days as a Cyclonian, she had hoped for dominion over Atmos, even if she was not upon the throne to do so. Dominion was a good theme; she decided to keep it. The thought of taking prisoners from those who had given her trouble – and who had given the WHAM ARMY trouble, now that she was part of it – was enticing. What was absolutely delicious was the thought of chaining them all down in the auditorium on Terra Neon and making them listen to her play.

They would only occupy the back seats, of course. The front rows would be reserved for those Ravess knew would truly appreciate her fine art. Scarlet, Peter, Xayide, Wuya, Yzma. The entire WHAM ARMY filled the front row of the auditorium in her mind. Even Snipe got a seat; she had to admit, after dreaming of his demise, that his presence would be pleasing to her.

Vexen would also have to be there, she realized. Even if all he did was sit and watch the performance with a blank expression. She didn't think he would actively complain about it the way he did most things; no, she knew him better than that. She could prove herself worthy of his respect – perhaps more than his respect. She wanted him to hear her.

Standing before an auditorium packed full of friends and prisoners in her mind's eye, Ravess knew exactly what she would play for them. The bow lowered onto the strings, beginning a tune that started out slow, almost melancholy, but then sped into a frantic melody, sliding up and down scales that only a master could traverse with such proficiency.

It turned out Ravess' mental vision was somewhat accurate. Everyone in the room was listening raptly, entranced by the song she wove together. Mim had her eye on the crystals, however, noting the faint glow they took on as Ravess filled them with the sound of her best dreams.

"THAT'S IT!" Mim cried halfway through the piece, when the circle was charged.

But Ravess didn't let that stop her. She continued to play until the song reached its natural conclusion. Drawing out one last note, she lifted the bow sharply away from the strings.

Everyone else applauded, and Ravess' ego swelled. Playing the song had been a good idea after all.

"That oughta light a fire under Pitch's heels!" Mim cackled. "Now, let's see if he'll come out to play."

She raised her hands, letting magic surge from them throughout the labyrinthine halls of the entire warship, lighting up her sigils and tracing the lines she'd drawn in herbs. There was now nowhere left in the warship that a creature of nightmares could hide, save for the small space within the circle drawn in the control room. As soon as he found himself unable to inhabit any other part of the ship, Mim knew, he would appear.

Black sand leaked into the room from all corners, flowing into the circle and piling up into a humanoid shape. At least, Mim, Aghoul, and Xayide saw this. At first, no one else was able to make it out.

"I am looking at him," Xayide stated, eyes wide. "He is real after all."

Ravess sniffed, about to make a snide comment, when Scarlet suddenly flinched, clapping a hand over her mouth. When Xayide had confirmed that there was something in the circle, Scarlet's mind had opened to the possibility, showing her exactly what stood before her. Herb had full trust in Scarlet; once he knew she had seen something, he believed it was there. The sight caused him to stumble backward, falling over.

"We tried to tell you," Aghoul said casually.

One by one, belief spread; the more saw it, the more realized there was something to see. "HEY!" Snipe yelled at what, to Ravess, looked to be an empty circle. "YOU'RE the one who's been messin' around with us! You cut that out, or I'll pound your face in!"

Neo gritted her teeth, drawing her sword and giving the circle a meaningful look.

Ravess was the only one who hadn't made some sort of reaction to the circle. Seeing everyone around her appear either frightened or angered, she finally conceded that something had to be prompting these reactions. Something was inside the circle: something visible, tangible. And she wanted to know what that something was.

The moment she let those thoughts enter her mind, she saw him.

He was tall, slender, his skin a pale gray. His dark hair was cut short, standing up in neat rows atop his head. He wore robes of ebony black, flowing over his frame gracefully.

"What a surprising turnout," Pitch Black remarked in a deliberate, refined tone. "Everyone's come to see whether or not the Boogeyman is real. I must say I'm flattered. I haven't been in a room with so many mortals who believe in me in hundreds of years."

"It's true," Ravess said in shock, eyes wide. "There really is a…Boogeyman…"

"I suppose I owe you my thanks for your belief," Pitch went on. "It wasn't easy for some of you to accept, after all."

"If you're so grateful to us," Aghoul growled, "why did you fill our heads with terrible nightmares?"

"Don't you usually target children?" Mim added haughtily.

Pitch smiled at that question: an utterly unnerving expression. "Why indeed?" he repeated. "When the challenge was first proposed to me, I very nearly turned it down. After all, adults are so much harder to frighten than children. Their fears are not so simple. They're abstract. Loss, doubt, hopelessness…but I was persuaded that if I could be creative, there were ways to bring those very feelings out of your deepest minds. And as I worked, it became easier and easier. It never stopped being enough of a challenge to bore me. But putting together the complex scenarios that would draw out your elusive fear…after this, I daresay I might even prefer to craft nightmares for adults. Were it more profitable in their belief in me, I might consider turning over to that sector entirely."

"So someone else put you up to this!" Mim realized. "I bet it was that Maleficent!"

Pitch gave the slightest laugh. "Maleficent. Not half as pitiable as your lot, but all the same…underwhelming. She, much like all of you, suffers delusions of grandeur. I've struck a partnership with someone who truly is grand. Someone who shares my affinity for fear. Someone who promised me a future where I am believed in and respected. All I had to do was prove myself by spreading fear among a gaggle of nuisances that goes by the name 'WHAM ARMY.'"

"Who was it?" Mim asked aggressively. "Out with it, out with it!"

"I see no reason to tell you," Pitch replied calmly. "I'm certain it will become clear in time. But there is a distinct fear that comes with the unknown. It's far more satisfying to me to let you worry about who is after you. To know the backs of your minds will always be wondering: what threat is slowly becoming as clear and present as Maleficent?" He chuckled. "Knowing what you will fear in my absence has made this little venture worth it."

"I don't see what you get out of this," Aghoul huffed. "We've enchanted the entire base so that you don't belong! You'll be forgotten the moment you leave!"

"Will I?" Pitch countered. "Perhaps I shall. I, Pitch Black, the Boogeyman, will be a foe you faced and triumphed over. But I've shown you things you can't forget." He turned to look Peter directly in the eye. "Ghosts that could come back to haunt you. After all, if so many others could come back from the dead, why not the one you never wanted to see again?"  
He turned to fix his gaze upon Neo. "Or helplessness," he continued. "Knowing that as capable as you are, there may be one day you are rendered unable to even defend yourself from the slightest threats."

His eyes traveled to Scarlet and Herb. "Losing the one you love," he stated. "Is it so impossible, even in the company of a necromancer? Could there not one day be an extenuating factor that prevents your reunion?"

To Rémington and Grany. "The downside of devoting your life to protect your family is what becomes of your life the moment you learn you can't."

To Ravess. "You claim not to care, not to be haunted. But it's only a façade. You are no stronger than the rest of them."

To Snipe. "It should be obvious that your physical strength cannot overcome every obstacle. It's only a matter of time before you become bested and can't simply punch your way out."

To Xayide. "You know now that stories need to be told. You already suffer in that you haven't been given a past. What will become of you when people decide to stop telling your future?"

To Xerxes. "Reliance on fragile enchantments to keep yourself alive is such a gamble, isn't it?"

To Aghoul. "You've always known you could be lost to the worlds even after death. And now you've seen it for yourself."

And, finally, to Mim. "And what happens when good triumphs over evil, as it inevitably does? What happens when a noble, righteous heart claims the ground you stand on and removes all the suffering you strive for from the equation? What you saw was not merely a world that doesn't exist. It is a world you know COULD exist."

He settled on a more casual look over the entire crowd. "You won't forget what I've shown you. Even when the memory has faded, it will still be present. And as long as you remember the shape of your fears, I will know that you think about them." His smile grew wider. "That is what will keep me satisfied after I depart. After all, there truly is no sense in remaining here so long as this circle is the only place I can stand."

With that, his entire body dissolved into black sand, swirling and disappearing into thin air.

"Hmph!" Mim folded her arms. "A lot of poppycock! He can't get to us that easily!"

The others murmured their agreement. But deep down, many had doubts.

"Well, he's gone now," Mim continued. "And my spell will keep him gone for good!"

"We really should figure out who he's working with," Aghoul brought up. "Whoever it is has already annoyed me half to death. Which makes me dead and a half."

"Whoever it is, we'll pound 'em into the ground!" Snipe declared.

"We'll decorate them with bullet holes," Rémington agreed.

"We'll punch them all the way into the 1980s," Scarlet decided.

"They can't touch us!" Mim insisted. "We're the WHAM ARMY! Sure, we have delusions of grandeur, but that's only because they're going to come true! Whoever it is doesn't know what they've just messed with! And anyone who doesn't believe it can follow the Boogeyman right out the door!"

"If there's one thing I've learned from this," Ravess said in a quivering voice, "it's to believe in everything."

...

Garfield tightened his left gauntlet into place, donning the suit that made him Firefly. "Man, it sure is good to get back into this," he remarked.

He stood with Snatcher and Vexen outside the Cavern of Remembrance's exit, on the other side of the ice wall that none of them knew was currently being melted down ever so slowly by the prisoners inside. Snatcher had also cast aside his disguise, positioning his red top hat atop his head. "Not everyone is cut out for the gown," he said casually, "and I'm well aware of the discomforts that come with the preparations for donning one."

"Actually, the dress was pretty fun," Garfield admitted. "I'm startin' to see why you like it so much. The part I couldn't stand was the sword." He turned and fired two quick blasts at the rock walls ahead. "I missed my babies. Remind me never to try using a sword again."

"Firefly," the Huntsman said sternly, "now that you are properly outfitted, take a position overhead. Alert us when the creature comes."

"You got it, Skullface," Firefly responded, zipping up into the air.

"While we wait," Snatcher suggested, seeing his opportunity, "Mr. Huntsman, why not regale us with tales of your past victories?"

"I see no reason to do so," the Huntsman replied. "As a matter of fact, I see no reason to pollute our wait with conversation."

"I am inclined to agree," Vexen concurred.

Snatcher let them have only a moment of silence before saying, "I was only wondering about your track record. Certainly you are the most competent of the original WHAM ARMY founders to be able to accomplish as much as you did on your own. That is, if I am correct in my assumption about what you have done on your own."

"I don't care," the Huntsman replied.

"I'm not…wrong, am I?" Snatcher went on. "You have slain all of your archfoes in the past, have you not? You couldn't possibly fall into the same trap as Torchwick or myself and find yourself bested by a mere child."

"I do not wish to speak of this," the Huntsman grunted.

"Well, now you're making me wonder," Snatcher continued. "Your refusal to answer is ever so telling, isn't it? Perhaps I've overestimated you. Perhaps in the past, you were a fool…or at least made one of."

"WHAT is the purpose of this conversation?" the Huntsman roared.

Snatcher looked him dead in the eye, smiling wickedly. "I merely wanted to know what sort of success you experienced before you began to put your trust in your fellow villain. Are you REALLY better off without the bonds you've forged?"

"I knew this discussion was coming," the Huntsman grumbled. "I don't know if you are saying this on behalf of Mozenrath, any of the others, or yourself, but I refuse to entertain this."

"Well, now I don't know quite what to think," Snatcher said teasingly. "Denial, yet again? Could it be that our Huntsman, who claims he needs no friends to support him, is a blunderer when on his own? If you can look me in the eye and say you were better off without us, I'd gladly drop the subject. It only occurred to me that you mightn't have taken the past into account when making such a crucial decision as severing bonds."

The Huntsman was in the process of selecting the perfect words with which to respond when Vexen took over, barking, "You're the fool if you believe such sentiment has any place here!"

"I'm only coming at this from a logical standpoint," Snatcher argued. "Have his successes increased or dwindled since forging the WHAM ARMY?"

"It isn't possible to factor emotion into a logical standpoint," Vexen retorted. "The two are entirely separate. There is no logic once emotion is involved. That is quite the reason I am content to live without a heart."

"Is that so?" Snatcher responded, changing his tactic. "Then I suppose bonds mean nothing to you. Friends, lovers…it's all little more than a convenient alliance. If that's your pleasure, then I'm not to be the one to stop you. Carry about your business how you see fit. Put away those wild and raging emotions you so clearly have when your heart is within you – "

"WHAT did you just accuse me of?" Vexen cried.

"Wild and raging emotions," Snatcher replied. "You must be a victim to emotion, mustn't you? After all, that is why you had your heart removed. You're simply incapable of acting upon pure logic so long as it's within your body. Couldn't do it on your own, you couldn't. So you've got to cheat."

"I am perfectly capable of separating logic from emotion, even with a heart!" Vexen argued. "It is removed for CONVENIENCE!"

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to prove that?" Snatcher asked. "Show me how you act when your heart is within your body. We'll see if it's the same. Perhaps we could even put a little wager on it."

"I refuse to take part in childish bets," Vexen huffed. "The answer is no."

"Too much of a coward to try, then," Snatcher identified. "You're afraid you'll succumb to your heart."

"That is NOT the case."

"Then prove it, Mr. Vexen."

"I NEED TO PROVE NOTHING TO YOU!"

Snatcher gave a small "hmph" before stating, "If I'm given any reason to believe you're a coward, that would affect our alliance quite seriously. I couldn't be caught inviting a coward on such excursions as this."

"How can I be a coward," Vexen posed, "if I feel no fear?"

"I can't explain it scientifically," Snatcher replied smugly, "but I know an act of cowardice when I see it. And I'm looking right at it at this very moment."

"Very well," Vexen said calmly. "Once our business here is finished and we return to base, I will replace my heart within my body and keep it there for several days. Make whatever observations you will. I predict, however, that you will find nothing has changed."

"I look forward to it," Snatcher said smugly. Then, directed back toward the Huntsman, "Much as I thought I'd never want to admit it, I never gained any ground until I put my fate in with our little organization."

"Obviously not," the Huntsman stated. "There is strength in numbers."

"I'm not talking about hired imbeciles," Snatcher growled. "I'd my fair share of those, and could have brought a lot more to my cause. You know well what was different. Which is why I ask you to look at your own past. You had subordinates to go 'round, did you not? You had an entire clan. Did they serve you half as well as comrades you could trust?"

Firefly touched down on the ground before the three at that very moment, announcing, "The blue alien's almost here. And he's got some kind of book with him."

"So they did act as I expected," Vexen remarked coldly.

The Huntsman had hoped Vexen's hypothesis would be wrong, that Stitch would come alone after all. He would have been quite easy prey then. But if Vexen's plan was solid, and the Huntsman didn't see how it wasn't, Stitch would still be destroyed along with the rest of the castle's inhabitants.

The quartet was waiting when Stitch trudged into view, a thin picture book held under one arm. "You have Lilo?" he asked.

"Your friend is safe and sound beyond this wall," Snatcher replied, gesturing to the thick ice.

Stitch nodded. "Show."

"Not just yet," Vexen told him. "Did you do as we asked and come alone?"

"Ih," Stitch confirmed. "Stitch alone. Stitch…ready. Just save Lilo. And Pleakley."

"And what is that you are carrying?" Vexen asked.

Stitch held up the book. "Last book to read…before," he said plainly.

"I don't think so," Vexen scoffed. "Tell Ienzo I'm not so stupid as to not recognize that little trick. He's sewn pages from one of his spellbooks into a children's volume, hasn't he? And how many of them did you bring? …As though I really have to ask. They're all here. So you might as well tell them to show themselves."

The Huntsman aimed his weapon not at Stitch, but directly at the book. "Do so before we eliminate them here and now."

Stitch quickly set the book on the ground and flipped open the front cover. "They know!" he said in a panic. "THEY KNOW!"

The book shimmered with an aura of bright white light. A host of sparkling lights burst from its pages, taking their place behind Stitch before forming into the shapes of those who had come to his aid. He was backed by a veritable army: Jumba, Ienzo, Lea, Aeleus, Aerith, Merlin, Leon, Cid, Jaune, Kairi, Nick, Madison, Vida, Xander, Chip, Ren, Cadance, Luna, Genie, Carpet, Mickey, Donald, and Goofy.

"YOU!" Donald cried. "I SHOULDA KNOWN, YOU DIRTY ROTTEN – " What came next was utterly unintelligible, probably crude, and actually mostly wordless yelling. As he hopped up and down, fists balled, Mickey and Goofy each put a hand on his shoulders to hold him back.

Kairi pushed her way to the front of the group, sword in hand. "Let them go," she demanded.

"How utterly predictable," Vexen sighed. "I hope that in the same vein, I do not have to tell you my answer."

Jaune made his way to Kairi's side. "Then we'll break down that wall," he insisted.

"You're quite welcome to try," Snatcher invited. "If you can get past us."

"Are you kidding?" Jaune replied. "There are only four of you! Wait." He stared hard at Snatcher's face. "Were you…"

"I do believe that was the man posing as Nikolai Pike," Merlin confirmed.

"Red hat," Jaune muttered. "Sora told us about the guy with the red hat. What was his name?"

"I don't remember," Kairi admitted. "It was something kind of silly."

"It was something that didn't sound like a real name," Jaune added.

"ARCHIBALD SNATCHER," Snatcher growled, ready to stop them from insulting him further.

The crowd gave a chorus of murmurs along the lines of "Oh, that was it!"

"And on that topic…" Firefly lifted his helmet to give the others a good look at his face. "There's no 'Bridgit Pike,' either. But you can remember the name 'Firefly.'"

"Stop giving them information," the Huntsman grunted.

"You've certainly collected a lot of it from us!" Merlin huffed. "But it stops here!"

"I dare you to even try to make a move against Stitch!" Chip barked. "There are way too many of us for you to get to him!"

"Tempting," Vexen stated. "It would be tempting, indeed."

"We are not fools," the Huntsman added. "We would not take on such a losing challenge."

"Then give us back our friends!" Kairi yelled.

"I believe that matter is about to resolve itself at any moment," Snatcher announced.

He, Firefly, the Huntsman, and Vexen stepped aside, exposing the ice wall. They could hear a thud from the other side.

"Maybe they weren't as smart as you thought," Firefly suggested. "I'll just go ahead and blast 'em – "

The ice suddenly shattered, Nora coming through swinging in the rain of glimmering shards. As she ran toward her rescue party, Sadira, Moana, Yuffie, Pleakley, and Lilo followed her.

"STITCH!" Lilo cried.

"LILO!" Stitch responded; the two met and fell into an embrace.

Pleakley zipped directly toward Jumba, who caught him in a hug of his own. "It was awful!" Pleakley moaned. "That room is full of deadly data simulations! We didn't think we would ever get back to you!"

"Is going to be all right," Jumba told him. "We now have villains right where we want them." He looked up at Vexen, having recognized his voice from the scroll. "So you are former evil genius of castle, yes?"

"What does it matter to you?" Vexen replied.

"Is just that whole plan does not seem very genius-like," Jumba observed. "Gave us quite easy way to victory. Either you are truly very stupid or there is other game here."

"THE TIMER!" Pleakley suddenly realized, backing up in fear.

"There's a timer in there," Sadira clarified. "We have to get out of here. The whole place is going to blow up – "

"Blow up?" Vexen repeated. "Nothing so predictable. And I can assure you that running away will not save you. Do you wish to know what that timer will REALLY do?"

"I don't think we should stick around to find out!" Mickey suggested.

"Something's not right," Leon stated. "I want to at least hear the explanation for this."

"Why don't we start with what you already know?" Vexen prompted. "Ienzo has apparently kept no secrets. Tell us about the Cavern of Remembrance."

"It was a research facility used by Xemnas," Aerith began. "He collected data on every one of his subordinates and stored it here in the Cavern."

"He was able to use that data to make simulations," Leon continued. "That way, he could not only keep track of everything his Organization could do in battle, but also try and predict their next moves based on patterns."

"He wanted to see if he could figure out who would betray him before they actually did," Lea volunteered. "I'm proof that it didn't work as well as he thought it would."

"Only Ansem's six apprentices were allowed near the place," Cid continued. "If you could even call 'em that anymore."

"I didn't even know about it until Ienzo told me," Lea admitted.

"But since Xemnas was defeated at the World That Never Was," Ienzo concluded, "and the first Organization XIII dissolved, he found no use for the Cavern and stopped coming back."

"I still think it's creepy that he was visiting it right under our noses," Yuffie added with a shiver.

"You really have kept no secrets," Vexen commented. "Unfortunately for you, I have. You see, Xemnas – and every iteration of Xehanort, really – never stopped seeing you as a mere child. You may have believed Xemnas was the only one who had every access code to the Cavern's functions. But in reality, he gave me administrative permissions."

The timer had almost completely run down.

"I used my credentials to modify the simulations within the Cavern when we placed the hostages," Vexen went on. "Has it really not sunk in yet what is about to happen to you and all of Radiant Garden? Is it really so impossible for you to put it together?"

He was met with blank looks.

"The simulations," Vexen clarified, "despite being made of binary data, are tangible and able to affect the physical world. As they are indeed made of data, they can be copied and multiplied. I only made one change to their code. A difficult one, but still, a mere one change. That change is what will make all the difference."

The timer struck zero.

"They can now leave the Cavern," Vexen stated smugly.

They poured from the exit Nora had just cleared: black leather coat upon black leather coat. At first, their hoods were up, making them look uniform and only distinguishable by height and build. But as they summoned their weapons, the hoods came down, revealing a host of frighteningly familiar faces.

Vexen – the real one – cast a Corridor of Darkness, hastening through; the Huntsman, Snatcher, and Firefly followed him. They had agreed beforehand to leave once the data Organization was unleashed, as the projections would not distinguish between friend or foe and would turn to slaughter them as well.

Ienzo gasped as he found himself looking into the eyes of what could have been his reflection. The data Zexion surrounded himself in a green aura, focusing it through a circle marked with the Organization XIII emblem. Ienzo was bowled over by the beam that emitted from it. Knowing he had to pull himself together, despite his horror, he scrambled to his feet, clutching his own spellbook and casting a spell that engulfed the data Zexion. "They're only data!" he cried. "Stop them by ANY MEANS!"

Aeleus nodded just before clashing clubs with a data Lexaeus. Again and again, the two weapons slammed, sending out vibrations across the whole battlefield.

A data Marluxia threatened to swing his scythe high over Aerith; she countered by spinning her staff in a circle, conjuring a disc-shaped spell that blocked Marluxia's blade from coming down from above. She pushed the spell outward to him, shoving him back.

Three immense sharpened cards spun toward Cid at the behest of a data Luxord; he parried them with his spear. As he plunged the spear toward the data Luxord, his target disappeared, five cards springing up in his wake. Trusting his eyes, Cid stabbed through the card he believed the data Luxord had transformed into. The cards curled up and folded away, leaving behind a trail of numbers in the air.

Leon found his blade locked against the shaft of the claymore of a data Saïx. He ducked low beneath the weapon, letting it swing over him as he dealt a slash to data Saïx's lower half. This caused the data Saïx to stumble and fall; Leon gathered a ball of Firaga in his free hand, but was stymied when the claymore's flat knocked him down as well.

Another data Zexion had engaged Merlin, trying to surround the wizard in tornadoes of violently ripping wind. "Oh, no you don't!" Merlin snapped, using his wand to call up a cluster of zipping and crackling fireworks that forced data Zexion to duck, cower, and run away.

Nick was surrounded by a ring of flames; he looked up to see a data Axel grinning at him and striding through the fire, chakrams spinning in his hands. Nick raised his sword and charged the data Axel with a wild yell. The chakrams were flung toward him; he batted each aside.

Madison cut through bubble after bubble sent at her by a data Demyx. Calling what little magic she could muster without her wand, she dropped the sword to catch one of the bubbles, hurling it right back at the data Demyx. It struck him in the head rather comically while exploding into droplets.

Vida was trying her hardest to parry the six lances of a data Xaldin, but the abundance of his weapons was overwhelming her. She felt awash with relief when he called them back to himself; that relief quickly dissipated when she saw the lances forming into the shape of a giant serpent that the data Xaldin perched upon the head of. A great beam of magic shot from the mouth of the lances; Vida was struck and thrown back, her skin burning.

Not a moment later, Xander sailed over her, having been launched into the air by the club of a data Lexaeus.

Chip fired his crossbow upon a data Larxene at the same time that she sent a knife sailing toward him with a thundery crack. His ammunition hit its mark, and the data Larxene dissolved into code. But her knife also met its mark; Chip stumbled, bleeding from where the blade had pierced between ribs.

A data Xemnas conjured a host of black and white thorny vines to curl toward Ren; he leapt over the trajectory of one clump, ducking past another. He used an opening to take several shots at the data Xemnas; he was able to hobble one of the data Xemnas's legs, but at the cost of suddenly being bound up in a tangle of vines and franctically using Stormflower to cut through them as quickly as he could.

Cadance was locked in a duel with another data Larxene, flinging spheres of Light from her horn and watching the data Larxene dance around them. The data Larxene crossed her arms, then flung them apart, sending a wave of lightning toward Cadance; Cadance shot upward into the air, continuing her onslaught from above.

After using a deflection shield to block the blow from a data Saïx, Luna saw Cadance take to the air and followed her example, raining bolts of lightning down upon the data Saïx. As the electricity from the sky struck the Claymore, it ran down and jolted him thoroughly until he was no more than code.

A data Xigbar took up his arrowguns; before he could fire, Carpet zoomed round and round him, dizzying him up. When he stopped spinning, he faced Genie, who held two cork-pop guns up while donning a cowboy hat and bandanna. When Genie prompted to "Reach for the sky!", the data Xigbar trained both of his arrowguns on Genie and let him have it. Genie first fired both guns, sending the massive and heavy corks to collide with the data Xigbar and knock him down, then quickly switched to a knight's armor and put up a sizeable shield that reflected all of the data Xigbar's ammunition right back at him.

Stitch had retrieved a pair of blasters and was using them to fire upon another data Demyx with a loud "YEEEEEHAW!". The data Demyx called up a host of watery forms, but Stitch disposed of them quickly.

A data Vexen sneered at Yuffie. "I've been wanting to do this since you knocked us out," Yuffie declared as she sent her large star spinning through the air. It curved around behind the data Vexen, struck him in the back, and reduced him to code.

Moana threw a punch at a data Luxord; it connected with his jaw. Before Moana could celebrate, something happened that she couldn't quite describe. She had become a cube – a die, to be exact – and hopped around on the ground, trying to roll her way back toward Luxord. "UM, WHAT JUST HAPPENED?" she cried in confusion.

Mickey, Donald, and Goofy went back-to-back-to-back as a data Xemnas, a data Marluxia, and a data Xigbar encircled them. "If it isn't the three guys who've given us the MOST trouble!" he declared.

"When did that guy with the scythe ever do anything?" Goofy asked.

"You wouldn't remember," Mickey informed him. "It's a long story. Just get him!"

"I GOT HIM!" Donald charged, staff swinging. The data Marluxia was hit with an onslaught of fire followed by spears of ice. "THAT'LL TEACH YOU NO-GOOD – " Once again, Donald's speech gave way to nonsensical syllables and unheard insults.

"You're that Braig fella!" Goofy declared as he stared down the data Xigbar. "After what I heard, I really don't like ya!"

The data Xigbar, unfazed by Goofy's comment, opened fire. Goofy blocked the ammunition with his shield before spinning like a tornado at the data Xigbar.

Mickey leapt over the swing of both of the data Xemnas' Ethereal Blades, using his Keyblade to send Pearl after Pearl of Light at the data Xemnas' head. The data Xemnas fell to his knees from the attack, but as Mickey tried to close in for the finishing blow, he was stopped by square deflection shields.

Lea's opponent still had his hood up. Even so, when Lea saw the two Keyblades emerge from the short data projection's hands, he was struck with terror. "Roxas!" he yelled at the projection.

The data Roxas came spinning at him with both blades.

Lea blocked the crossed blades with his own Keyblade, locking metal against metal. "It's me!" he urged. "Don't DO this, Roxas!"

The data Roxas did not relent.

Kairi was fighting a data Axel of her own, leaping from side to side to avoid the spin of his chakrams. Noticing Lea and the data Roxas up ahead, she called out, "Lea! He isn't real! You can't – "

The data Axel flung a chakram directly at Kairi. She only just had enough time to block it with her sword, sending it flying back at the data Axel, who caught it expertly in one hand and spun it.

Kairi took a chance and ran toward Lea. "LEA!" she cried. "I'LL FIGHT HIM!"

Lea glanced over his shoulder to see Kairi approaching. In that moment, the data Roxas got in one good slice across Lea's chest. Lea instinctively kicked outward, his foot landing in the data Roxas' stomach and sending him scooting back. "Trade you!" he told Kairi as he turned around to face the data Axel behind her. Now this was something he could torch. Dismissing the Keyblade and holding his wounded side in one hand, he snapped his fingers with the other.

The data Axel went up in flames, reverting to a cluster of numbers before disappearing.

Meanwhile, Kairi traded blows with the data Roxas, letting his blades hammer against her sword.

A third data Larxene caused lightning to rain down upon the field. Many scattered out of her way, but one person was struck directly. Seeing an easy target, she aimed at the same person again and again; her target didn't move an inch. She walked in closer for the kill, fanning her knives out in both hands.

Nora, who had taken enough lightning from the data Larxene to be positively giddy, swung Magnhild around to slam into the data Larxene's chest. The data Larxene dissipated into code in one shot. Nora pumped her fist with a "YES!", failing to notice the data Xaldin taking aim with his lances behind her.

The data Xaldin was run through with a blade from behind. "YOU'RE NOT GETTING HER AGAIN," Jaune seethed as the data Xaldin collapsed into code around his sword.

Another data Roxas cropped up near Sadira; she forged the sand from her purse into a blade that whipped past him again and again, tearing at his cloak. He launched a Keyblade at her; she used the rest of the sand to slow it down while ducking and crawling under its reach. "Anybody know how to GET RID OF THEM?" she cried as she scuttled away from the data Roxas. She got to her feet in time to run at full speed from his chase.

Pleakley and Lilo cowered behind Jumba, who acted as a brick wall to cover them, firing both arrowguns upon a data Vexen at maximum speed only to have his ammunition blocked by the data Vexen's sizeable shield. "Sand witch is right!" Jumba insisted. "We must find way to shut down data program permanently or simulations will keep multiplying and overrun entire city!"

Ienzo, having finished off his opponent, had ended up next to Jumba. "I don't know how to shut it down!" he protested, flinging beams at three more data Zexions.

"Is connected to castle system, no?" Jumba suggested.

"I don't see why it wouldn't be," Aerith said from Jumba's other side. "Xemnas used that computer as his base."

"Then we make tactical retreat and stop program from there!" Jumba decided. "Pleakley! Little girl! You will come with me!"

"I'm not leaving Stitch again!" Lilo insisted.

"STITCH!" Aerith and Ienzo cried as one.

Stitch, having collapsed the data Demyx, scuttled over to where he saw Lilo beckoning.

"We're gonna try and stop them from the castle!" Lilo told him. "We have to go together so we don't get split up again!"

"Ready!" Jumba signaled. "NOW!"

He dropped one arrowgun, using the other to fire back at the data Vexen while he scooped Lilo into the other arm. He then took off running for the castle at full speed; Ienzo, Aerith, Stitch, and Pleakley followed in a hurry.

Seeing their targets making a break for it, several of the data Organization members gave chase.

The six practically broke down the door to the computer room; thankfully, they hadn't done so literally, and could turn to lock it against the onslaught of data Organization members while they surrounded the computer. Jumba took his seat once more. "Must be shutdown sequence somewhere in computer's recesses!" he insisted.

"I wouldn't know how to find it," Ienzo mourned. "Of all of us, I should know how to stop it, but I don't!"

"We need to stay calm," Aerith insisted. "If we panic, we'll never figure it out."

There was a loud slam against the door. The data projections had arrived. Pleakley screamed before crying, "CAN'T STAY CALM! DEFINITELY CAN'T STAY CALM!"

"Must think like evil genius," Jumba muttered. "If I were to hide shutdown sequence for doomsday program, would put it in last place anyone would look. Would disguise it as innocent program. Maybe not even program. Maybe is…"

He maneuvered the cursor to the trash icon, clicking it. Immediately, a password prompt filled the screen.

"That…" Ienzo realized in shock, "…explains why we couldn't throw anything in the trash bin…"

"Is six-part password!" Jumba announced. "Book boy! What would villain use as password to guard shutdown sequence?"

The banging on the door became louder. "HURRY!" Pleakley cried.

"I know this!" Ienzo cried. "Enter these words! First is 'Xehanort'! X-E-H-"

Jumba's fingers flew over the keys as Ienzo spelled out the names of the six apprentices. Pleakley watched raptly, fingers squeezing Jumba's shoulder from behind.

The door bent inward. Stitch stood protectively in front of Lilo, holding out his blasters. "Must protect," he insisted.

"Stitch…" Lilo hugged him tightly from behind.

Aerith gave her staff a spin, standing next to Stitch, ready to become the first line of defense.

"…N-Z-O!" Ienzo finished spelling.

Jumba entered the last word. The computer prompted him: "Shut down Cavern of Remembrance simulation?"

The door burst; a data Xigbar flew into the room, both arrowguns cocked.

Jumba clicked "Yes."

The data Xigbar, and all of the accompanying black-cloaked figures behind him, dissolved into numbers.

Down on the battlefield, the Organization members that had been pouring from the Cavern all melted away into code. The Radiant Garden contingent let out a collective sigh of relief before moving back toward the castle to tend to their wounds. In a puff of smoke, Moana was returned from die form to a human body. "I STILL DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED!" she complained.

Up in the computer room, Aerith, Ienzo, Jumba, Pleakley, Lilo, and Stitch all waited tensely to see if any other foes would arrive before relaxing at the knowledge that they had stopped the onslaught. "You did it!" Aerith congratulated.

"We did it," Ienzo said in mild disbelief.

"We're…" Pleakley had let go of Jumba and was now swaying, unable to keep his balance after such panic and stress. "We're not going to die – "

Then he passed out cold on the floor.

...

Sora led the charge toward the Hyrule Castle gates. "Look!" he cried. "The barrier is down!"

"That makes things easier," Riku commented.

"You think our turning the world back to Light did it?" Ruby wondered out loud.

"Does that make sense?" Katara added. "Were they connected?"

"Why do I have a bad feeling about this?" Stork groaned.

"Because you have a bad feeling about everything," Midna reminded him. "Not everything is doom and gloom, you know."

Sora, Riku, Ruby, Katara, Stork, Midna, Zelda, Link, Jasmine, Aladdin, and Papyrus didn't slow until they reached the gates. As Zelda, Link, and Midna moved forth to open the doors, they were surprised to see someone else pry them open from the other side.

As soon as Zelda beheld who it was, she gave a cry that sounded at first to be one of panic, but was truly of relief.

"Zelda?" Hans said, an expression upon his face that read shock and joy at the same time.

"Hans!" Zelda cried in return.

He rushed forth to sweep her into an embrace, and their lips locked in a deep kiss.

"Awwww!" Ruby and Sora cried.

Riku, Stork, Papyrus, Aladdin, and Link regarded the scene with curiosity. They still had lingering doubts; Stork's suspicion had spread among them. "So you're Prince Hans, huh?" Aladdin commented.

Hans's lips left Zelda's and he backed off just far enough to be able to address Aladdin. "I am," he confirmed with a smile. "Zelda must have told you about me."

"I'm so glad you're safe!" Zelda gushed.

"Believe me, I'm even more glad YOU'RE okay," Hans told her, clasping her hands tightly in his own. "After the Twilight covered the land, I thought you were done for."

"How did you end up holding your own in the Twilight, anyway?" Aladdin asked.

"And weren't you captured by some terrible villain right before that?" Stork added.

"It's a long story," Hans sighed. "I'll be able to talk about it more once things have calmed down. For now, I'll give you the short version: I was rescued by people with powers you can't imagine, and the Twilight knocked out all the people who captured me."

"So those would be the friends the Light spirits told us about," Riku said gingerly.

"The Light spirits!" Hans repeated. "I knew you would be able to save them!"

"We saw all you did for us," Zelda stated. "We owe you our thanks for clearing out the guardians who stood with the spirits in their time of Darkness, and for holding down Ordona for us to rescue."

"Hey, I had the easy part," Hans replied. "You're the real heroes here."

"It really worked out for us that you somehow knew what we were doing," Riku stated, arms folded.

"What else would you all have done?" Hans said with a shrug. "You're the heroes of Hyrule. Well, at least I know Link and Zelda are. I don't know the rest of you yet, but we'll fix that. I want to meet all of you after we're done here."

"WEREN'T YOU SUFFERING SOME SORT OF FATAL INJURY?" Papyrus recalled.

"Listen," Hans said sternly, "I would LOVE to give you all the details, but we are NOT safe right now. Ganondorf is on his way here, and he has friends. Some kind of…octopus woman, and a woman in red who, and I know this is weird, I swear was wearing glass shoes."

"Ursula!" Sora cried.

"Cinder," Ruby growled.

"I got away from them for now," Hans said, trying to sound hurried, "but they'll be coming back. I've figured out a way to stop them, but it's…complicated. I need a lot of magical power. Darkness or Twilight would be best."

"Would a Fused Shadow work?" Midna asked with a smirk. "Because I think I know a woman."

"A Fused Shadow?" Hans repeated. "Like the legend? If you have that, that would be PERFECT! I have everything set up in the throne room. I'd just need you to come with me up there so we can activate it. …The woman you're talking about is you, right?"

"You bet it is," Midna said with a wink. "So what do you need my magic for?"

"Like I said, it's complicated," Hans insisted. "It'll make more sense when you see it. While Midna and I go up to do that, I need a favor from the rest of you. When Ganondorf comes, he'll be entering through the front gates. I need all of you to stand together to stop him. At least buy us enough time to finish upstairs."

"We can sure do that!" Sora said with an emphatic nod.

"Wait," Riku brought up. "Ganondorf took over this castle when he invaded. Why did he leave? And did he bring down the barrier, or was that your doing?"

"Look, I REALLY don't have time to explain!" Hans groaned. "We need to get going NOW, or else this isn't going to work! Are you going to protect the gate or not?"

"We will," Zelda promised. "I trust you to do what is best for us all."

"And I trust you to protect your people," Hans replied. "When this is over, we'll be able to say our wedding vows for real. I promise. Now we really have to GO." He grabbed Midna's hand and tugged, indicating that she should follow him. He raced into the castle; Midna followed.

"I do NOT trust this!" Stork cried. "I'm going after them."

"Do you not trust ME?" Zelda accused.

"I trust you," Stork told her. "I just don't think you should be trusting him."

"I'm going too," Aladdin said, "but maybe we should wait a bit. Not let on that we're following."

"I'm counting to ten," Stork announced. "One…"

"You'll need a guide through the castle," Link brought up. "I'm going with you."

"You do not trust Hans either!" Zelda said indignantly.

"It's not that I don't want to," Link told her, "but things aren't lining up…and it's Midna on the line. I can't risk her."

"COUNT ME IN TOO!" Papyrus announced.

"This is all pretty shady," Riku agreed. "I'm in."

"Well, okay," Sora told Riku. "The rest of us will stay here and guard the gate. I think Hans was telling the truth, and I want to be here to slow down the bad guys before they can get up there."

Ruby, Jasmine, and Katara nodded in agreement. Zelda simply gave Riku a glare of anger.

"Nine…ten," Stork declared.

Link was the first to charge into the castle; Riku, Papyrus, Aladdin, and Stork followed him closely.

Down halls, up stairs, and around corners Link led the suspicious group; finally, he came to the doors that would normally lead to the outdoor balcony that neighbored the throne room. He tugged the handles to find them locked. "Why would these be locked?" he wondered out loud.

"If Hans didn't want us to see the bad thing he was doing!" Stork insisted.

"Hang on," Riku said as he called his weapon to hand – then flinched when he was reminded that he held a mere sword. "I guess unlocking the door isn't going to be very easy without the Keyblade, is it?" He backed up a few paces, then surged forward in a quick attack, slamming against the door; it had no effect.

"We need another way up," Aladdin mused.

"The stairway to the throne room is outdoors," Link explained, "and the room itself has open walls. I could take us outside by a different route, and from there…" He drew his clawshot. "I might be able to claw my way up. If there's a good hold."

"That," Aladdin said, "or we could just take some stairs."

"TOO BAD WE CAN'T JUST MAGICALLY MAKE A STAIRWAY FROM OUR LOCATION TO THE THRONE ROOM," Papyrus sighed.

It took a solid thirty seconds of everyone staring at him in silence for him to realize: "OH. RIGHT. I CAN DO THAT!"

After the doors had shut, locked by some magic Wuya and Mozenrath had lent, behind Hans, he practically dragged Midna up the stairs and into the throne room. "Right this way," he said, "and we'll have everything all worked out."

When Midna arrived in the room, she took a look around at Mozenrath, Wuya, Yzma, Roman, Irmaplotz, Zevon, and Demyx. "So these are your new friends," she remarked. "You run with a crowd with a good sense of style."

"Thank you," Yzma replied smugly.

"What do you need me to do?" Midna asked.

"Hand over the Fused Shadow," Mozenrath stated.

Midna's eyebrow raised. "I didn't know you'd need to TAKE it from me."

"Please, Midna," Hans insisted. "It's the only way."

"No one wields the Fused Shadow but me," Midna insisted. "I worked hard for it, and it's mine. What do you even need it for, anyway? You said I'd understand once I got up here, but…"

Zevon gave a laugh. "If you haven't figurated it out," he cackled, "then you're a mooron!"

"Wait." Midna took a step backward, snapping her wrist back out of Hans' grip. "You're not trying to stop Ganondorf at all!"

"That's not entirely accurate," Mozenrath informed her. "Actually, we already have stopped him."

"Did you HAVE to tell her that?" Hans groaned. "I could have strung her along a bit longer, you know."

"She was on the verge of figuring it out," Wuya said. "I could see it in her eyes."

"You just want the Fused Shadow all to yourselves!" Midna cried in realization. "Stork was right! You ARE all evil!"

"Stork," Roman repeated. "Do I know that name? Why don't I like that name?"

"Well, if it's the Fused Shadow you want," Midna insisted, "then I'll give its power to you, all right!"

She shuddered, losing form and expanding. Extra limbs sprouted; her head was encased in its hard helmet.

"Like we planned!" Wuya snapped; Hans, Zevon, Yzma, and Roman scurried up the pile of debris in the back of the room while Mozenrath, Wuya, Irmaplotz, and Demyx took up the front.

Midna pounded the floor, trying to smash each of the four mages; they dodged her expertly (except for Mozenrath, who had to be yanked out of her path by the back of his cape by Wuya). She raised one spidery limb, forging a spear of pure energy in its grip and training its point on Hans. She let it fly, intending to come back to smashing the mages once it had hit its mark.

Mozenrath, Wuya, and Irmaplotz sent out a combined tractor beam of magic that surrounded the spear, slowing it in midair and painstakingly turning it around. All the while, Demyx strummed away, causing entire walls of water to rise before Midna and block her blows.

Mozenrath could feel himself growing ever more tired as he struggled to contain the weapon conjured of the Fused Shadow's energy. He wondered what toll this was taking on his body as far as the gauntlet went, and though he wasn't about to say such a thing as "Thank you" to Wuya and Irmaplotz, he was quite glad he had them backing him up. Working in concert, all three turned the spear back to face Midna, then let it fly.

Midna realized what was happening far too late. The spear slammed directly into her.

When she hit the ground, she was once more in the form of a Twili, regularly sized and clutching at a wound in her stomach. An ash-dark horned helmet that appeared to be made of metal clattered and rolled away from her.

"THE FUSED SHADOW!" Wuya cried.

Midna attempted to crawl close enough to the shadow to grab onto it; her hand was but an inch away from its edge when Mozenrath's magic lifted it up and carried it directly to him. He smirked as he tucked it beneath his left arm. "Not so tough now, are we, princess?" he mocked.

"You…" Midna panted. "Disgusting…"

"Is that the worst name you can call me?" Mozenrath taunted. "You are about to die, after all. You can let your language get a little more colorful."

That was when Stork, Papyrus, Link, Aladdin, and Riku barged into the room. "I KNEW IT!" Stork cried, pointing at the group. "HE WAS WORKING FOR…Ganon…dorf?" He blinked. "That is not Ganondorf."

"No," Aladdin said in utter shock, his eyes fixed upon the ringleader. "He was working for MOZENRATH."

"Hello, Aladdin," Mozenrath greeted smugly. "It's been a while, hasn't it? I'd say I missed you, but we both know that would be a lie. What I did miss was having the chance to destroy you. And look where we are."

"You haven't managed to destroy me once yet," Aladdin reminded him. "I've beat you all those other times! I can beat you this time, too!"

"Last time," Wuya brought up, "he didn't have friends."

"You might have friends," Riku said as he stepped forth, "but Aladdin has better ones."

Link, in the meantime, had rushed to the ailing Midna. "We need to get you out of here," he insisted.

"Don't worry about me," Midna panted. "I'll be fine. It sounds like your friend Aladdin is the one in real trouble."

Mozenrath tapped the Fused Shadow, sending it to a space pocket for storage before drawing back his right hand and letting a hot electric blue beam of energy fly directly at Aladdin's head. Aladdin sidestepped it easily, making a run at Mozenrath. Wuya stepped between the two, but Mozenrath shoved her aside roughly, insisting, "HE'S MINE!"

Wuya shrugged, setting her sights on Riku. She snapped her fingers, and orbs of lime-green fire rained down on him from above.

"Like I haven't dealt with this before," Riku said with a smile, dodging each falling fireball. When he heard the strumming of a musical chord, he knew to be vigilant; fifty water forms sprang up around him. He launched into a Dark Splicer, surging into each one in succession in the blink of an eye.

Irmaplotz threw magic of her own toward Aladdin only to find it blocked by a shield forged of bones. Then, before she could react, bones spelling out the words "GET LOST!" smacked into her, tipping her over backward.

Roman, in the meantime, focused the crosshairs of the Cudgel on Papyrus' head, hoping to shatter his skull. In his intense concentration, he missed the fact that Stork had been making his way up the debris pile, and by the time Roman fired, Stork had gotten behind him, seizing him and pulling him back so that his ammo blasted straight up into the sky.

Yzma leapt down from the pile, heel kicking out right at Link, who was surging into the fray. She landed on Link's back, but he spun so quickly that she was thrown off, slamming right into Wuya and bowling her over.

"Well," Yzma remarked as she rolled over, realizing she was outright straddling Wuya, "this is awkward."

"Only as awkward as you want it to be," Wuya teased with a smirk. The smirk immediately faded; "but we can talk about it after we've crushed our enemies."

Link's sword cut right through the last of Demyx's water forms before Riku could get to it. "I'll take it from here!" he assured Riku; Riku gave a nod and departed for another part of the battlefield.

Link cast a glance over his shoulder to see Midna crawling out the door to safety. She would be fine, he knew. He turned back to face front and saw Wuya zooming at him with a pair of swords in hand; his blade clanged against both of hers, and they set to dueling.

Aladdin launched himself at Mozenrath, tackling him. Mozenrath flailed, unsure how to proceed after a direct assault. "What's the point of having friends back you up if you're just gonna push 'em out of the way?" Aladdin taunted, trying to think of how he could restrain Mozenrath from this position.

"That's none of your BUSINESS!" Mozenrath growled as he pressed his right palm onto Aladdin's bare chest, leaving a solid burn mark.

Aladdin rolled over, kicking Mozenrath off of him. As Mozenrath reeled, ending up on his feet, he felt another blow to his back, this one coming with a punch of heat; he turned to see that Riku had set his cape on fire with Dark Firaga. Mozenrath realized he had Aladdin squaring up from in front of him and Riku prepared to assault from behind. Not an ideal position, but he could work with it.

At least he thought he could until Sora, Ruby, Jasmine, Katara, and Zelda came in from the throne room entrance. Midna was propped up against Zelda's side, one arm draped over her shoulder. All but Midna and Zelda cried, in surprise, "MOZENRATH!"

"NO!" Mozenrath roared. "NO, NO, NO!"

"Aw, man," Demyx groaned, "not the girl who can mess with my water!"

"So you finally wised up," Riku told Sora with a smile and a toss of his head.

"We realized we all trusted you a lot more than Hans," Sora explained with a shrug. "It got really suspicious when I had to unlock the door."

"It was you?" Ruby said in awe, looking to Mozenrath. "But what about Ganondorf? What about CINDER?"

Mozenrath was far too angry to answer. It was Roman who chipped in, "You just missed 'em, Red! Who even KNOWS where they are now?"

Zelda's eyes fixed upon Hans. Hans only needed to look at her for a brief moment to know that Midna had told her everything. "I swear I can explain," he said nervously.

Even with Midna leaning on her, Zelda was able to summon and draw her bow of light.

"No," Hans said as he backed up, hands up and palms outward. "Zelda, think about what you're doing – "

She let the arrow fly.

Hans closed his eyes, bracing for impact. Instead of striking him in the heart, as he'd expected, the arrow pierced the shirt fabric above his shoulder, carrying him all the way back to what remained of the rear wall and pinning him there.

"I loved you," Zelda said loudly enough to carry across the room.

"In retrospect," Hans said back, "that was really, REALLY stupid on your part."

Sora braced his Keyblade, ready to charge. "We're gonna take you down for what you did to Midna!"

Mozenrath's burning-hot mind suddenly snapped like a trap around an idea. He retrieved the Fused Shadow, placing it over his head.

"NO!" Wuya cried. "DON'T!"

Mozenrath felt himself growing into the spidery creature Midna had transformed into. However, his weariness became all the more evident the more energy he spent on that form. He became about half the size Midna had attained before his strength simply gave out, having been tested by Ganondorf and by Midna herself. As a human, he collapsed back onto the floor, laying on his side and trying desperately not to fall asleep. The Fused Shadow rolled across the stones.

Wuya's foot planted down hard on it before anyone else could make a grab for it. She scooped it up, dismissing it to her own space pocket with a tap. Then she stretched out her hands to either side; the cracks between the stones of the floor and the rubble in the back of the room glowed bright emerald.

Rock creatures sprang up all over the throne room, forged from the pieces that made up the room itself and taking away enough from the floor to leave a convenient escape route. Yzma, Roman, Zevon, and Irmaplotz hopped right down to the level below while Sora and his band of heroes were distracted fighting the stone creatures. Demyx took a moment to wrench the light arrow out of the wall, freeing Hans, before they plunged after. Wuya hoisted Mozenrath up to prop him on her shoulder in much the same way Midna was propped on Zelda's, then dragged him down with her.

Above, the sounds of blades clashing, bullets firing, water sloshing, arrows whistling, and fists colliding with the stone carried on. "We have to get back to base," Wuya declared. "We have what we wanted."

"No…" Mozenrath said weakly. "Not…without…Aladdin…revenge…"

"You're not even making coherent sentences!" Yzma hissed. "We're taking you home and putting you straight to bed!"

"Nnnnnno…" Mozenrath grunted. "Has to be…other…way…" He blinked hard, nearly passing out but forcing himself to stay awake. "Ship. They have to have…a ship. Sabotage…the ship."

Wuya sighed. "Fine. I'll indulge you this ONCE. If this gets you killed, that will be your problem."

A Corridor took them outside the Castle Town limits. It only took a short amount of searching for the WHAM ARMY to find the ship the heroes had come in on. They boarded eagerly, looking for the ideal method of sabotage.

Wuya conjured up a screwdriver, handing it to Yzma so she could pop a panel off the engine. "All yours," Yzma told Mozenrath.

Mozenrath summoned up just enough energy to send one blast at the engine. When it collided, the engine shuddered, then fell to pieces.

"Put that panel back on!" Wuya ordered. "They can't know!"

"Ooooooh, I wish we could see the looks on their faces when they find out," Demyx giggled.

"This actually isn't a bad plan," Wuya remarked. "Best-case scenario for them, they can't get off the ground and end up stuck in a world with primitive technology from which they can contact no one from Radiant Garden. Worst-case? They crash and die somewhere in interspace. Now, if you're satisfied, you are going home to BED."

"Not my mom," Mozenrath muttered.

Wuya cast one more Corridor, ushering everyone through. She and Mozenrath were the last to leave.

Up atop the castle, the band of heroes had finished clearing the stone creatures out of the gutted throne room and noticed the absence of their quarries. "They're gone!" Sora cried.

"No kidding," Midna commented.

Link rushed back to Midna, laying a hand on her upper arm. "We have to get you taken care of," he insisted.

Zelda nodded. "We'll take her to be healed right away."

As the group turned to leave the throne room, Jasmine fell in step next to Zelda. "I'm sorry," she said sympathetically.

"Don't be," Zelda told her. "I will be strong. I will move on."

But as she said so, the tears flowed freely from her eyes, fueled by her broken heart.


	64. Dance With Me

64\. Dance With Me

A/N: I will, starting with this chapter, be incorporating DanganRonpa into this mythos! I intend to intercept canon immediately after the ending of DanganRonpa 2 (I only intend to use Hope's Peak stuff for now, but V3 is more than likely coming!). However, it is important to note that as I hated the DanganRonpa 3 anime, it will not be considered canon. Neither the Despair arc nor the Future arc. Future arc never happened, and things at that time period will play out completely differently. Despair arc will be completely AU; I have my own ideas of how the characters that part concerns got from point A to point B, and it doesn't involve a cheap plot device. My version of events will be explained within this story. The most canon we might get from the anime is that Class 77 had a teacher named Chisa Yukizome. Finally, I'm pulling the opposite approach I used on Wakfu and using the NISA English translation as my basis for spellings, speech patterns, and certain character behaviors strictly relegated to the localization. That includes everyone calling each other by their first names. With that out of the way, let us proceed!

...

Vexen, the Huntsman, Snatcher, and Firefly spilled out of their Corridor in a rush, with Vexen closing it immediately to make sure no data projections followed them through.

"You really think that's gonna destroy 'em?" Firefly asked cynically.

"Why would it not?" Vexen asked. "It was a perfectly thought-out plan."

"Here's the thing," Firefly replied. "Every crook in Gotham has 'killed' the Batman at least once. And it has never EVER worked."

"I am more than a common Gotham crook," Vexen insisted. "All the same, I shall report back to Radiant Garden after sufficient time has passed to take a tally of the survivors. Hopefully, this should at least have weeded out enough of their forces to give us a higher probability of total annihilation later on."

"A chase I'm certain you'll enjoy," Snatcher said to the Huntsman.

The Huntsman, deep in thought, made no response. Snatcher wasn't sure what to make of that.

That was when the second Corridor opened, ejecting Wuya, Mozenrath, Yzma, Zevon, Irmaplotz, Demyx, Hans, and Roman.

"Ah, you've returned!" Snatcher greeted, approaching the party. "I take it that it…" His eyes traveled to the weary Mozenrath draped over Wuya. "…Did not go as well as expected."

"Well, we got the Fused Shadow," Wuya stated. "That's a victory at least."

"And…sabotaged Aladdin," Mozenrath insisted. "He won't…go back."

"And your mission?" Wuya asked.

"We've not left much for Aladdin to go back to," Snatcher said with a grin. "But, should our attempts to rid ourselves of our foes have failed – "

"I'm telling you, they ALWAYS find a way to not die when they should," Firefly insisted.

"…We've at least attained a good deal of information regarding what we are up against," Snatcher explained. "Now, would that we could do the same for Maleficent."

"She won't be so easy to fool," Vexen insisted.

"Mr. Vexen," Snatcher teased, "don't underestimate my ability."

"If you want to rely that heavily on Mozenrath's ability to necromance you from the agonizing death you will receive," Vexen said coldly, "then by all means."

"I would go into specifics," Snatcher concluded, "but I do believe that would be much better done when Lord Mozenrath is more…conscious."

Wuya nodded. "I'm sure he wants to tell our side of the story himself. We'll convene later."

"Over karaoke?" Yzma suggested.

"No – " Vexen and the Huntsman attempted.

"Over karaoke," Snatcher agreed, and Firefly backed him up with two thumbs up.

"Karaoke, huh?" Hans repeated. "So you're a singing crowd. That's a sign I joined the right team."

"Oh?" Snatcher regarded Hans with curiosity. "Made a friend, have we?"

"That's one word for it," Roman snorted.

"I think he fits right in," Irmaplotz commented. "Also, I'm pretty sure he and Mozenrath have a thing."

"Well, I'm not at liberty to talk about that," Hans stated. "That'll be something Mozenrath can decide once he wakes up."

Mozenrath, at the moment, had fallen completely asleep.

"Anyway," Hans continued, "I'm Prince Hans Westergard, formerly of the Southern Isles. I'm looking forward to meeting everyone here."

"Archibald Snatcher," Snatcher responded, "and likewise." Though Roman's obvious derision at Hans' existence didn't make for a good first impression at all as far as Snatcher was concerned.

"You think Mozenrath will mind if I put the Fused Shadow on the sigil?" Wuya asked. "I'm going to do it either way. I just want to know how much I'll have to put up a fight later."

"Ah, he got to strand his archnemesis on a backwater world," Yzma pointed out. "He'll be fine."

"I'm still hoping the ship just explosionates," Zevon commented.

"We'll meet up later," Wuya declared.

"That we shall," Snatcher agreed.

"So…is anyone going to show me around?" Hans asked. "Or am I just going to find my way on my own here?"

"I suppose I could handle a brief tour and an assignment of quarters," Yzma resolved. "Anyone else?"

"Nah, I'm gonna catch some Zs before the big karaoke party," Demyx declared.

"I'll come," Irmaplotz volunteered. "Now that I've spent some time out of the reading room, I want to socialize!"

"I won't be joining you," Zevon stated. "I have potions to brew and replacenish!"

"I still have to drop this one off and place the Fused Shadow," Wuya reminded everyone. "Then someone has to go find Mim, Aghoul, and the others and tell them we're throwing a bash."

"I wonder what misadventings the others got up to in our absention," Zevon mused.

"I've got stuff of my own to do," Firefly stated. "Should probably check in with Peter, first off."

"I have business of my own to tend to as well," Vexen said coldly. "Do not reserve a seat for me at your karaoke rendez-vous." He turned and stalked from the control room.

Without saying a word, the Huntsman followed right after him. And, had Snatcher not been convinced he'd made headway with the man and Yzma, Roman, and Wuya had enough time to simply let the matter go, they might have all been quite outraged. As it were, they simply shrugged him off.

"All right, team," Zevon said excitedly, "BREAK!"

Everyone went off in their separate ways save two. Snatcher and Roman remained in the control room, looking directly at each other.

"It went well?" Snatcher asked.

"You already asked that," Roman reminded him.

"I asked them," Snatcher clarified. "I want to hear it from you."

"I basically blew up the bitch queen," Roman said with a shrug. "That was a pretty good time. What about you?"

"I do believe I accomplished exactly what I set out to do," Snatcher told him. "Perhaps not to the degree I had hoped, but I expect to see results in time." He stepped a bit closer to Roman as he said that.

"I'm sure things are going EXACTLY the way you set them up," Roman said as he closed the distance.

Snatcher reached out to clutch at Roman's arms and pull him in close; Roman's lips met Snatcher's and remained there in a long, forceful kiss.

"Gods, I missed that," Roman said once their faces had parted.

"We've quite a bit to catch up on, haven't we?" Snatcher said coyly. He shifted so now one arm was draped over Roman's shoulders, and the pair began to walk toward their quarters.

"Damn right," Roman agreed.

"Shall we start with your account?" Snatcher asked. "What TRULY happened in Hyrule?"

"What happened is everyone underestimated me before I came through at crunch time," Roman began. "So we end up in this desert, right? And the mirror we're looking for is apparently at the top of this giant desert prison…"

They traded tales en route to more privacy.

Once she had deposited Mozenrath in his bed so he could sleep off his weariness, Wuya approached the twelve-pointed sigil with the Fused Shadow in hand. She knelt to lay the helmet on its appointed space; the sigil glowed brightly.

She noted rather proudly that only two points remained unoccupied: those meant for the elements of Life and Fire. The WHAM ARMY had come this far; Wuya had no doubt they would be able to complete the spell within a matter of days.

It was rather fulfilling to think that, given how when she had first met the others, she hadn't been sure what to expect; as a result, her standards had been somewhat low. She now knew how truly capable her friends were of getting what they wanted.

Satisfied, she rose to deliver the news of the upcoming party to Mim and Aghoul.

...

After settling Midna in bed and binding her wound, Zelda had requested time alone, which, given the situation, was quite understandable. Link had set his mind on staying by Midna's side while she recovered; Midna had grumbled about not needing so much pity, but in truth, she was more than happy for his company. Sora hadn't wanted to leave just yet, requiring a proper goodbye before doing so, and besides, he hadn't even seen the best this world had to offer in the light. So Zelda suggested that the visiting heroes explore Castle Town to their hearts' content: they would find much of interest now that its population was restored to humanity.

The group took her up on her offer, splitting up to cover different sectors of town. Jasmine and Aladdin almost immediately befriended a stray cat, Stork found himself taking tea within Agitha's palace of bugs, and Ruby was starry-eyed when confronted with the expensive wares presented at Malo Mart for combat.

Sora and Riku, however, simply strolled down the streets, taking time to point out this or that as things caught their eye.

"Look at that!" Sora pointed to the fountain in the town's Central Square, which bore the Hylian crest. Then, immediately noticing a band of performers at the square's edge, cried, "Hey! They're playing music! They're pretty good."

Riku smiled. "You know…I miss this."

"How could you miss Castle Town?" Sora asked. "This is only the second time you've been here."

"Not this place," Riku clarified. "Seeing new worlds through your eyes. You always find what's wonderful about every place you visit."

"It's really not hard," Sora said with a shrug.

"Sometimes I overlook it," Riku admitted. "That's what got me into trouble in the first place. I get so caught up in what could be that I don't stop to really look at what's there. I didn't look closely enough at our own islands. I just thought about getting off of them. But you always saw what made our home beautiful."

"Well, we just have different ways of looking at it," Sora told him. "I really like the way you think about what's out there. You don't just stop where you are and call it good. You have dreams about what could be better."

"Well, I appreciate it," Riku said with a nod, "but seeing things the way you do is the better way to go right now. I'm always thinking about the adventures that could be out there. But you find an adventure wherever you go!"

"What, like it's hard?" Sora teased. "It's nice to have a break from all the adventure, too. Like right now. We can just do whatever we want!" A thought occurred to him. "You know, this might be the first time we've had in a while to just hang out. You know, like on a date."

"I didn't know it was possible for us to even have a date without some villain crashing the party," Riku laughed.

"Sooooooo…" Sora turned around and stepped in Riku's path, facing him as they stood before the street musicians. "Wanna dance?"

"That depends," Riku teased. "Think you can keep up with me?"

Sora gave him a playful nudge, and Riku softened his approach; "I'd love to."

Sora clasped both of Riku's hands, and they spun in somewhat ungraceful circles in time to the music. A few passers-by noticed their dance and joined in with their own partners, creating a small gathering in Central Square.

"Maybe someday we can visit other worlds just to enjoy them like this," Riku suggested. "Without having to fight off some kind of danger."

"We will, one day," Sora promised. "We'll defeat all the villains that are causing trouble, and then we'll get a break! And if that doesn't happen…well, we'll just make time! But until then, helping people out isn't so bad, is it?"

"It isn't," Riku agreed. "It's tiring, but it's worth it."

Riku moved one arm around Sora to playfully dip him low and press a quick kiss to his lips before pulling Sora back to a standing position and resuming the dance. Sora paid him back later on, spinning him outward and pulling him close to initiate a kiss of his own. And, just because of all those who had come to dance, the street musicians played three more songs than they had originally planned to.

...

When Mozenrath groggily came to consciousness, he wondered for a moment how he had gotten back to his own room. It must have been Wuya, he realized, and he supposed he should be thankful that she had been disposed to place him in his own bed instead of leaving him somewhere hilariously embarrassing. He rubbed an eye with his left hand as he swung his legs out of bed, feet hitting the floor.

His tattered cape caught his eye as he twisted; Riku's Dark Firaga had done a number on it. He couldn't have that ruining his appearance. With a quick flick of his wrist, he soon had it repaired.

Standing up, he noticed a sheet of paper taped to the back of the closed door to his bedroom. Curious, he approached, taking it into hand and reading its declaration: "We are having a karaoke party at which we will go over our missions. Don't make me drag you there. –Wuya"

Mozenrath sighed as he folded the paper and lay it on his nightstand. Of course they'd decided on a karaoke party. So long as they didn't make him sing or dance, he could tolerate it.

He exited the bedroom, walking out into the apartment at large and making his way to the kitchen area. From there, he poured himself a tall glass of ice water for the purposes of rejuvenating his strength. While downing it, he suddenly became aware of a disturbance in his otherwise orderly apartment: another sheet of paper, this one shoved under his front door.

This one, upon closer inspection, read "SEE ME IMMEDIATELY. –Vexen"

Mozenrath rolled his eyes, muttering, "What does HE want?" His ire at Vexen had died down considerably, but he still didn't suppose this meeting was going to be a pleasant one. The tone of the note suggested Vexen had a complaint he wanted to bring to Mozenrath's attention, and Mozenrath didn't doubt that this complaint was about Mozenrath himself. Gearing up to insist that he hadn't done, said, or been anything wrong, and any arguments Vexen had otherwise were completely invalid, Mozenrath transported himself from his quarters to the laboratory space in a blink.

He was greeted by the sight of Vexen re-organizing the shelves over his workspace, muttering, "How much DID they relocate?"

"Is there some kind of problem?" Mozenrath asked stonily, arms folded.

Vexen turned his attention away from the shelves and focused on Mozenrath. "You received my communication," he said with a smile that came across as altogether rather blank.

"I did," Mozenrath affirmed. "What's wrong now?"

"You believe I have a complaint," Vexen identified. "Not an unreasonable assumption. Not a correct one, either." He took his place behind his counter, where a small square box sat unassumingly. "I have a request to make of you."

"We'll see if I feel like granting it," Mozenrath huffed.

"It will only require a moment of your time," Vexen promised. "The results, should all go well, will not impact you in any noticeable way."

"Now you have my curiosity," Mozenrath confessed. "What kind of request are you making?"

"You will recall how I instructed you to remove my heart when first we met," Vexen brought up. "It was your first time attempting such a process – "

"I've removed hearts before," Mozenrath lied, dismayed that he'd been seen through so easily on that front.

"I suppose you are also about to claim that you have replaced them," Vexen posed.

"Replaced them with what?" Mozenrath asked. "Blades? Toxins? This really sounds more like one of Mim's specialties – "

"You misunderstand," Vexen interrupted. "I am referring to replacing a heart that was removed back into the person from which it was taken."

Mozenrath was taken aback. "That can't be what you demanded I come down here for."

Vexen lifted the lid from the box, tilting it to show Mozenrath the ruby-red beating heart inside. "That is precisely why I demanded your presence," he confirmed flatly.

"You know, I really thought I understood you," Mozenrath said in confusion. "This…should be the LAST thing you would want."

"I am doing it to prove a point," Vexen said coldly. "It has been pointed out to me that I removed my heart as a measure to ensure I would not fall victim to emotions that I should have been able to control with or without a heart. I would like to make it very clear that I am capable of acting free of emotional influence even with the capacity to feel."

A sneaking suspicion grew inside Mozenrath's mind; was this part of Snatcher's game? "I suppose I can't really deny you that," he relented. "It's a simple enough request."

"You DO have the proper skill to carry it out, do you not?" Vexen asked skeptically.

"I removed it in the first place, didn't I?" Mozenrath reminded him. "I think I know where it goes."

"You will be responsible for whatever damages you cause," Vexen snapped.

"How about you let me do my job," Mozenrath countered, "and you don't complain about it no matter what the end result is, or you find someone else to do it for you?"

"There is no one else capable of that magic whom I trust enough to NOT replace my heart with something more dangerous," Vexen admitted. "That being the case, I shall let you proceed."

Mozenrath approached, dipping his hand into the box to pick up the heart; it throbbed uncomfortably against his fingers, threatening to dislodge itself from Mozenrath's grip. He fixed his gaze upon Vexen's chest, sizing up the target area.

"Well?" Vexen snapped. "What are you waiting for?"

That outburst prompted Mozenrath to abandon all caution and shove the heart into the area where he was sure it belonged. Vexen flinched at the suddenness of the movement; Mozenrath withdew his hand as casually as he could.

Vexen could find nothing wrong with the job Mozenrath had done. If he really paid attention, he could feel the pulse returning to his body. The heart was exactly where it was supposed to be. "That will be all," he stated.

"Good," Mozenrath told him. "I can't waste any more time here. Apparently I have a karaoke party to attend."

"I certainly don't," Vexen sniffed.

Without any further goodbye, Mozenrath vanished from view. Vexen returned to the shelves, trying to put back in order what Mim and Aghoul had turned into disorder. He finally had the beakers arranged by height, but several were missing. He supposed the next order of business would be to search for them in the other workstations of the lab; perhaps they had ended up on Yzma's or Herb's worktable.

The first missing piece of glassware was shoved in among Yzma's tools; its plain shape stood out against her more bizarrely crafted glass. Vexen wasted no time in replacing it. He thought to himself about the tasks he had yet to complete for the day. First would be the replacement of the missing beakers. Then, perhaps, he was free to set himself a new goal. He had no other loose ends that needed to be tied up.

Except, perhaps, one. It wasn't important, he told himself at first. Then he talked himself into believing it was merely a matter of logic; it was in his best interest to resolve it. Furthermore, it could wait until his glassware was organized.

He intended to thoroughly search Herb's counter for the next beaker and found himself instead crossing the hallway to Ravess' apartment at a fairly quick pace.

His hand quickly rapped upon the door thrice. After some time, he raised his fist to knock again, only for the door to open behind it. Ravess flinched, obviously not having expected to see Vexen. "What do YOU want?" she asked, bristling.

"I only wanted to make myself clear on a certain subject," Vexen stated.

Ravess considered closing the door on him. She couldn't imagine what he would have to say that would change her perspective of him. And yet the door remained open. She wanted to know where this was going. "Well?"

"I do not think you fully grasp why I did not want you to travel to the World of Four Nations after me," he began.

"I was under the impression you found me too incompetent to keep up my end of the work," Ravess stated. "That much, you made perfectly clear."

"It is not your competence I call into question," Vexen stated. "It is the liability you created."

"And how is that any different?" Ravess sighed.

Vexen knew he had to be careful with his wording, and he was ready. "You went into a situation for which I did not believe you were prepared."

"And why do YOU get to decide if I am prepared?" Ravess asked. "I seem to recall faring far better than you did. At least I avoided capture."

"Then you will also recall that I was coerced into signing away my soul by my traveling companions," Vexen reminded her. "Had I been allowed full control of the situation, it would have played out far differently."

"I really don't see why you came here," Ravess said sharply. "Was it just to reiterate how useless you think I am? Of course it was. Obviously it didn't sink in the first time, and you intend to keep at it until I admit that I was wrong and you are all-knowing always. I had half hoped you would at least just forget about the entire incident and choose to discuss other things, but no, you are bound and determined to make me see the picture you've painted in which I crossed a line you drew without ever knowing it. Has it occurred to you that I didn't know you would react that way at ALL to my arrival? When was I supposed to have learned not to follow you? WHEN did you make it clear what I was and wasn't supposed to do? I refuse to follow your orders blindly when I don't even know what you are trying to accomplish other than belittling one of the few people who can even tolerate your prese – "

Somewhere along the line, Vexen's resolve broke. No longer was he careful with his words. The truth simply came spilling out: "IT WAS BECAUSE I DIDN'T WANT YOU PUT IN DANGER!"

"YOU didn't want ME in danger?" Ravess countered. "WELL, IMAGINE HOW I FELT WHEN I LEARNED YOU'D BEEN TAKEN BY THE ENEMY!"

The ramifications of what they had both admitted slowly sank in, and neither was able to comment for quite some time. Then Vexen said, very simply, "You needn't have been concerned for me."

"Of course I needed to be!" Ravess snapped. "You are the closest friend I have on this ship! Do you think I wanted to LOSE you? But what is your excuse? You couldn't care about me. You can't care about anything."

"At the time, that was true," Vexen replied. "I had no emotional attachment to you. I did, however, know logically that it was within my best interest to preserve our alliance. And your survival is key to our alliance. Now that Mozenrath's memory and necromancing powers have been restored, I suppose I needn't factor survival into the equation. At the moment, however, you may be interested to know that my heart has in fact been restored to its original location within me."

"Why would you want to do a thing like that?" Ravess asked.

"In order to prove a point," Vexen stated. "Even with a heart, I am not one to fall prey to emotion, and I refuse to let it dictate my actions. Though I am strongly beginning to suspect this change is what brought me here at this moment. It is for the best, truly. There are few whose company does not irritate me, and you are the one whose presence I find most tolerable. In my current state, perhaps even enjoyable. Though our similar predilection to be the victor of any given argument causes inevitable friction, and will do so again, I am inclined to think we understand each other. And I did not wish an argument over something so trivial as the incident of the World of Four Nations to taint that understanding."

Ravess gave a slight "Hmph" before relenting, "I do believe you are right in that respect. However, I am not going to apologize for acting in the best interest of our organization, including Mozenrath and especially including you."

"Perhaps I should not expect such an apology," Vexen replied. "After all, you did come out of the ordeal unscathed."

"And striking a deal with Maleficent's ally wasn't your idea after all," Ravess relented. "I fail to see how you could make such an idiotic decision."

Their eyes met and held there for a brief moment without any more words passing.

"I…was about to head for the room designated as a dancefloor," Ravess said at last. "To join in the karaoke event. My intent, of course, is to clear the stage for at least one violin performance. Perhaps afterward, we can discuss what we've been through since we stopped speaking."

"Why afterward?" Vexen asked.

"I know you have no desire to attend a karaoke function," Ravess said with a smile.

"I was not going to," Vexen affirmed. "It does, however, provide us with a social venue in which to make conversation sooner rather than later. And perhaps it would be in my better interests to put in an appearance at a group function or two."

"I will be ready in a matter of minutes if you wait," Ravess stated.

"Then I will wait," Vexen agreed.

She eased the door closed, feeling quite happy with the way things had turned out.

Vexen, on the other side, was already cursing his heart, as he, too, felt happiness with having cleared up his conflict with Ravess. If he wasn't careful, he knew, he might come to care for her. The complication was that he liked feeling happiness. During the span in which he had possessed a heart after his defeat at Axel's hands and before meeting Mozenrath, he had felt it so rarely. It hadn't been able to balance the fears and angers he wished not to fall prey to. Perhaps, in an environment more suited to him, that could change.

He wasn't sure, yet, if that was a good thing or a bad thing. As with all conclusions, it required far more study and observation before it could be drawn.

...

The Radiant Garden castle library had once again become a meeting place, with everyone who had taken part in the great battle of the data Organization finding somewhere to claim territory. The wounds sustained had been minor and tended to. All in all, the victory had been complete. What remained was to see off the unexpected allies who had contributed to protecting the castle.

"We want to thank you all for helping us," Kairi told Lilo, Stitch, Jumba, and Pleakley on the library's lower level, where everyone could see. "Both with shutting down the data projections and making Disney Castle safe to live in again."

"Sorry I got taken hostage," Lilo said somberly. "That wasn't much help at all, was it?"

"Sadira told me you figured out a way to defeat the first data Demyx," Kairi reminded her. "But no matter what, we're grateful to have met you as a friend."

"You know," Lilo stated, "you don't seem like a princess."

"Lilo!" Pleakley admonished.

"I just mean you're not all egomaniacal and acting like you're above everyone else just because you're in a governmental position that you weren't voted into," Lilo explained. "Also, you seem a lot more relatable than the ones from fairy tales."

"Thank you," Kairi replied. "I haven't known you for that long at all, but I think you're a good-hearted person. I'm glad we could help your family reunite."

"Stitch go home now!" Stitch proclaimed proudly.

Kairi gave Jumba a mischievous look. "I hope helping us out didn't ruin your evil-genius reputation too much."

"Eh, will bounce back," Jumba resolved.

"You really weren't kidding about being a genius," Mickey commented. "We never woulda gotten this far without ya!"

"Well, Jumba may be a slob who doesn't pick up after himself," Pleakley volunteered, "but if you can rely on anyone to figure out a problem that needs smarts, it's him!"

"Though compliment was backhanded," Jumba told him, "still has feeling of flattery. I will accept." He put an arm around Pleakley. "And I am to understand your fascination with fashion trends actually helped save day? Is no one I would trust such matter with more than you."

Caught in the moment, Jumba and Pleakley shared one quick kiss. Stitch immediately put up a fit of groaning, complaining of "Mushy-gushy! Bllllech!"

"At least we could trust you when it mattered," Leon commented. "Knowing that our enemy could take advantage of our trust and infiltrate us so easily doesn't exactly put my mind at ease."

"I sure thought Nikolai was gonna be a good friend," Goofy mourned.

"They were horrible," Nick scoffed. "And that one of them pretending to be a woman. How low can you get?"

"Hey!" Pleakley snapped. "What's wrong with presenting as a woman?"

"It's just deceptive!" Nick insisted. "What if one of us had fallen for her?"

"Nick!" Vida smacked him on the upper arm. "You're focusing on the wrong thing!"

"I'll say he is!" Pleakley argued. "His gender identity is his business! And so is what he chooses to wear! Whether he's evil or not evil!"

"Why are you DEFENDING him?" Nick asked incredulously.

"Nick," Vida growled. "Shut. Up."

"I'm not defending HIM!" Pleakley clarified. "Well, okay, I am, but not because he betrayed us! I just…don't like everyone thinking him being bad was intrinsically connected to him wearing women's clothes and presenting as a woman!"

"Why do you even care?" Nick asked.

"Well, because…" Pleakley suddenly found it difficult to articulate the words. "Because I…I…"

"You do not owe rude boy explanation," Jumba insisted.

"No," Pleakley sighed. "They should know. I'm…not exactly…what you think."

"Wait," Jaune said suddenly. "Are…you a guy?"

"Well, it's…" Pleakley struggled for the proper words. "It's, uh…it's…complicated."

"This is why I wanted you to shut UP!" Vida snarled at Nick.

Nick was visibly embarrassed. "I didn't think – "

"No!" Pleakley confirmed. "You sure DIDN'T think!"

Realizing what he'd implied about a now trusted friend, Nick mumbled, "I'm sorry."

Pleakley was suddenly struck with worry; was his admission going to sour the others' view of him?

"Hey." Sadira stepped forward. "I said earlier I wouldn't judge you for anything." She looked Pleakley directly into his single eye. "And I meant it, okay? You're my friend no matter what."

Pleakley could tell she meant it. And, looking around the room, he saw nothing but smiles of support and acceptance (if one factored out the still-embarrassed Nick). He had been afraid, after considering Garfield's charade, that the matter of gender presentation might be a sticky one among this group. But the looks he was being given said otherwise. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "You have…NO idea how much that means…" His voice quavered. He had found true acceptance among the Pelekai family to which he belonged, but very few other places.

"Will I see you again?" Sadira asked. "I'd seriously love to have another shopping date with you. Maybe trade more stories about our dark pasts."

"You know what?" Pleakley replied. "I usually make a point of not getting involved with dangerous inter-world drama. But I think in your case, I can make one very huge exception."

Sadira spread her arms out. "Can I also get a hug before you go?"

Pleakley didn't even resort to words, instead hurrying forth to wrap Sadira in his own arms and feel her grip tighten around him.

"We're definitely coming back here," Lilo resolved.

"Seems likely," Jumba agreed.

"Ih," Stitch confirmed.

Not long later, the castle denizens stood outside and waved up at the Pelekai ship as it departed for home, now having Stitch on board after missing him for months.

"I'm gonna miss them," Sadira sighed.

"Me too," Nora agreed.

"I sure ain't gonna miss that little shit stealin' my ship parts," Cid grumbled.

That got a good laugh out of everyone as they returned to the castle.

...

Mozenrath was one of the last to arrive in the karaoke room. The stage was already set up, bright lights raining their glory upon it to contrast the rest of the dimmed room, and Scarlet Overkill was belting out a hit from her homeworld – not half bad, Mozenrath thought, though her skill lay more in dancing than singing to be sure.

As soon as they saw him enter, Mim, Aghoul, Wuya, Yzma, Snatcher, and Roman waved Mozenrath down to one of the circular tables that had been dragged out to fill the floor. Mozenrath made his way to the appointed space, casting his gaze around the room. The Huntsman wasn't there, he noticed from a purely observational standpoint. He wasn't surprised. He bet neither Ravess nor Vexen would put in an appearance either, and from what he saw, he seemed to have been proven right.

As Mozenrath took his seat, Yzma proclaimed, "That's all of us! Now. Who should begin? And let's make this short. I have a show-stopping number I want to use to absolutely floor the audience." She'd come dressed for the occasion, departing from her usual purple to don a red number that sparkled even in the dim light. A feathered headdress of ridiculous proportions topped it off.

"That is nothing," Snatcher told her, "compared to what I've got in store." He had come to the occasion dressed as Frou Frou, now in a jet-black evening gown lined with sequins, his auburn wig topped with a small, off-center black hat adorned with an enormous feather. Staying true to form, he spoke in character, his voice high and bearing the accent Snatcher had missed getting to do while performing as Nikolai.

"Oh, really?" Yzma challenged. "I'll wipe the floor with you."

"Trash talking about singing isn't going to get our stories told any faster," Mozenrath grumbled.

"Why don't we report first?" Wuya suggested; she was decked out in a gown that, much like Snatcher's, was black, but differed in its lack of sequins, its lack of any sort of strap or sleeve, and its slit running up the length of the skirt. From what Mozenrath could tell, no one else at the table had bothered to wear anything different for the occasion.

"Let's hear it," Aghoul encouraged.

Wuya, Roman, Yzma, and Mozenrath took turns relating the events of their Hylian escapade, occasionally tripping over each other. It seemed that whenever Roman had control of the story, he edited it to give himself a bigger role in the battles at the springs; when Wuya corrected his version of events, Roman's story suddenly had a heavy focus on how much Wuya and Yzma had seemed to be flirting at the time. Yzma's version of events seemed to feature more Zevon than anyone else's, even when Mozenrath pointed out that all he'd done was throw a few potions. Mozenrath refused to disclose what had happened atop the Arbiter's Grounds when Wuya and Demyx were conducting reconnaissance, and by Wuya's description, Ganondorf was much uglier than anyone else had perceived. But when it came time to tell of how both Ganondorf and Midna were felled, the four agreed it had absolutely been a team effort.

"And did you ever find out how, exactly, Ganondorf changed the spirits?" Aghoul asked.

"Admittedly, no," Wuya confessed.

"It only seems like the sort of thing that would come back to bite you in the femur later if you didn't figure a way to stop it," Aghoul pointed out.

"Well, what are we supposed to do about it now?" Yzma asked exasperatedly.

"Get bitten in the femur, I guess," Aghoul told her.

"It is concerning," Wuya relented, "but in the end, it was ony a minor setback."

"Says the woman who WASN'T holding half the team's physical forms together at the expense of being able to cast literally any other spell," Mozenrath griped. "But there really isn't much we can do about it now unless anyone feels like conducting recon at Maleficent's base. Which I suppose we COULD make Demyx do – "

"Now, that's going just a bit too far," Yzma interrupted.

"That was supposed to be a joke," Mozenrath elaborated.

"Yeah, your whole 'sense of humor' thing still needs work," Roman pointed out.

Mozenrath shrugged. "That's YOUR opinion. Anyway, truth be told, it was a surmountable obstacle. If this mission proved anything, it's that we can handle anything Maleficent throws at us."

"Despite all the broken bones, resurrections, and stab wounds you received in eight-on-one fights," Mim said slyly.

"All of her generals were working with powerful spirits!" Mozenrath growled. "Any one of those people would have been dead within minutes otherwise!"

"Maybe if you'd had ME there," Mim huffed. "As it stands, there are more important things to discuss. Like your new boy-toy!"

"Don't be crude," Mozenrath snapped. "Hans isn't my boy-toy."

"Well, he's obviously your something," Wuya pointed out, "or you would have played dumb in regards to who she was talking about."

"Has our Lord Mozenrath gone starry-eyed?" Snatcher asked teasingly.

"I'm not going to pretend there isn't…something there," Mozenrath sighed, "but it's not as strong as you think it is."

"You don't know the nature of your relationship yourself, do you?" Snatcher realized.

"I'm working on it," Mozenrath grumbled. "I'm still weighing the pros and cons of giving him what he wants."

"Which we all know is also what YOU want," Yzma commented.

"If it benefits me," Mozenrath clarified. "And I have my doubts it will."

He shot a look over his shoulder to where Hans was sharing a table with the Smisses, telling them something that sent both brothers into stitches of laughter. Then, noticing Mozenrath's wandering eye, Hans made direct contact with it, waving playfully at Mozenrath.

This caught Mozenrath completely off guard. Hans probably thought he was being cute. Mozenrath, however, had never been into "cute." He turned back to his friends without giving Hans a response.

"If you decide you want help landing him," Aghoul suggested, "I'd be more than happy to share a few pointers."

"I'm not taking dating advice from you," Mozenrath said flatly. "I'm not even sure how you ended up with all the wives you have. Your relationship with Mim, I'm writing off as her being insane."

"I would be offended if you weren't technically right," Mim said with a shrug.

"Can we change the subject?" Mozenrath pleaded. "What happens next with Hans is my decision and mine alone. If you want to play matchmaker, go pick on Wuya and Yzma. Apparently there's something there now."

"And what ABOUT that?" Aghoul asked, putting his chin on his hands and his elbows on the table, looking at Wuya and Yzma coyly.

"Not your business," Wuya said sharply. "She and I have things to work out later."

"We do?" Yzma asked, her voice gone temporarily hoarse. When had her heartbeat become so noticeable?

"If you want," Wuya replied.

"Later," Yzma agreed. "After our show-stoppers."

"As intriguing as these romantic developments are," Snatcher pointed out, "we've still yet to go over the fruits of my own undertaking."

"Not to mention the Boogeyman incident," Mim added.

"The WHAT incident?" Yzma asked, flabbergasted.

"Did something seriously happen while we were all gone?" Roman added.

"We can't leave you alone for two minutes, can we?" Wuya sighed.

Snatcher was slightly miffed that his report was passed over in favor of Mim and Aghoul relating their misadventure cornering Pitch Black. However, he did finally give in to listening without judgment, awed that there was such a thing as the Boogeyman and more than a little unsettled that he had decided to target the WHAM ARMY.

"He won't be coming back again anytime soon, that's for sure," Mim insisted. "But all the same, we have another enemy on our hands."

"Because that's exactly what we needed," Mozenrath sighed. He was quite glad he'd missed out on that little adventure. While he was fairly certain he knew what his own worst fears were, he still didn't want to come face-to-face with them inside of a nightmare or outside of one. There was always the possibility that he could be surprised.

Roman, Wuya, Yzma, and Snatcher all felt more or less the same.

"So in Maleficent's corner, we don't know how she was able to alter an entire spiritual presence to the opposite side of its fundamental dichotomy," Mozenrath reiterated. "In a mystery corner, Pitch Black is working with an unknown ally. Do I even dare ask what's happening on the Radiant Garden front?"

Snatcher was about to take that opportunity to speak, but Aghoul cut him off; "Before we get to that, I have to know. Is there a connection between YOU using black sand and PITCH using it?"

"I made use of the sand my home offered," Mozenrath stated. "There's nothing more to it than that."

The silence that followed (among the table of seven, anyway; the room was quite loud with the sound of Xayide crooning a ballad, punctuated with the occasional cheer from the audience) let Mozenrath know his cohorts didn't exactly believe him.

"Can't you ever take anything I say at face value?" he asked.

"Not when I know it's a lie," Snatcher teased.

"So I admired Pitch's work a little!" Mozenrath groaned. "Is that a problem? I'm doing his schtick better than he ever could." He did find it more than a little grating that every villain he'd ever looked up to, from Jafar to Pitch, seemed to be ready to make an enemy out of him. There was at least one more powerful entity on his list of idols who he hoped wouldn't decide to attack the WHAM ARMY as well, but given the track record, he simply decided to assume they all would.

The conversation was hijacked when Wuya gave a soft "Wha – " and fixed her vision on a table at the back of the room, the direction in which her face had been pointed – otherwise she might not have noticed it at all.

"What?" Yzma asked her.

"I don't know what's stranger," Wuya replied. "That they're speaking again, or that they're here in the first place."

All eyes at the table of seven turned back to where Wuya indicated. Ravess and Vexen had just entered the room, claiming an unused table for themselves; each drew out their own chair before sitting and engaging in what looked to be an absolutely civil, friction-free conversation.

"You don't think THEY'RE together, do you?" Aghoul asked. "It would explain quite a few things, but Ravess going off the market is a little disappointing."

"I'm sure the first person to ask about their business gets either an arrow to the heart or a permanent brain freeze," Yzma theorized.

Snatcher's face was overtaken by a smirk of downright pride. "I see I at least managed to break through to him."

"What did you do?" Yzma asked derisively.

"What I set out to," Snatcher answered cryptically.

"I…think we'll hear your story now," Mozenrath said to Snatcher, eyes still glued on Ravess and Vexen.

"Oh, NOW you wish to hear my story!" Snatcher huffed. "Are you certain there's no other distraction you'd rather bring up at the last minute? Perhaps Miss Yzma went on a shopping trip to stock up for ingredients for her little brews before this soirée, and we absolutely MUST hear about her misadventures!"

"That reminds me," Yzma muttered, "I need to stock up on potion ingredients."

"I know at least ten hotspots for magical ingredients," Mim volunteered. "I can put you on the path to brewing some absolutely fatal concoctions."

"Let Snatcher talk," Wuya snapped.

"Thank you, Mademoiselle Wuya," Snatcher said haughtily. "Now, to start from the beginning…"

He gave a brief retelling of the events that had transpired since he, Garfield, Vexen, and the Huntsman had arrived in Radiant Garden. He omitted the gritty details of what he and Garfield had learned about their foes, promising that information at a later date ("Though we shan't need it, given the fate that befell them"). He finished the tale off by reiterating exactly how he had talked Vexen and the Huntsman through their points of conflict.

"And judging by how he is currently regarding Mademoiselle Ravess," Snatcher concluded, "I would venture to say a heart beats within our icy Monseiur Vexen's chest as we speak."

"Silver," Roman emphasized, "tongue."

"Maybe when it comes to Vexen," Wuya pointed out, "but the Huntsman is still nowhere to be found. If you'd really gotten through to him, he'd be asking to sit at this very table right now."

"At which point, we would have full discretion to turn him away and laugh like cheerleaders at a high school that had fallen victim to popularity hierarchy," Yzma said with a small rush of glee at the thought.

"He is not so cold as Monsieur Vexen," Snatcher retorted. "If I broke through to one, I have most certainly broken through to the other. And when he does come crawling back begging forgiveness, it would be in our best diplomatic interest NOT to throw him back to the gutter."

"It's really stopped mattering to me," Mozenrath remarked.

"Hey, I worked hard on our acronym!" Roman broke in. "And we're just gonna let the H drop out of it?"

"'WAM ARMY' still sounds the same without an H," Yzma informed him.

"Yeah, but it looks REALLY stupid on paper," Roman sighed.

"If that's our biggest concern," Wuya pointed out, "we really don't have much to worry about on that front."

"You know what else starts with an H?" Aghoul leaned over to elbow Mozenrath in the side. "'Hans.'"

"Even if I do decide to trade romantic favors with him," Mozenrath argued, "that doesn't elevate his rank to anywhere NEAR the founding members. If he wants the Huntsman's place, he'll have to earn it."

"Might I take a moment to remind the council that the Huntsman is PROFESSIONALLY still part of the founding circle?" Snatcher brought up.

"My acronym isn't fucked up after all," Roman muttered.

"I say we prolong any further discussion of the Huntsman's place in our order until such time has passed as we can see the effect I have had on him," Snatcher said slyly, certain that he had in fact had an effect.

"Probably smart," Yzma agreed.

"Meanwhile," Roman brought up, "did we just adopt Gar?"

"He did make more than a suitable partner in crime off of which to play our charade," Snatcher admitted. "I more than once caught myself thinking of him as a true daughter."

"Hey," Roman laughed, "if we're gonna adopt a kid, at least you had the sense to pick one who likes setting shit on fire."

Mozenrath cleared his throat loudly. "I really hate to be the bearer of bad news…"

"Oh, what is it?" Snatcher sighed.

Mozenrath looked him dead in the eye and said, "No one at Radiant Garden died."

"Of course they all perished!" Snatcher insisted, dramatically placing a hand over his heart as though he were offended beyond measure. "You think we were not thorough?"

"Did you SEE them die?" Mozenrath asked.

"There was no way to do so without perishing ourselves!" Snatcher reminded him.

"Let me put it to you another way," Mozenrath said coyly. "Everyone, raise your hand if at some point during your life, you thought you had eliminated at least one enemy via method that was inescapably fatal."

He put up his hand, as did Mim, Aghoul, Yzma, Wuya, and Roman.

"Now," Mozenrath went on, "if that enemy turned out to be alive later, no matter how impossible that was supposed to be, hands down."

Six hands slammed the tabletop.

"Strange that you of all people should bring up that logic," Snatcher mused. "After all, you did not see the consequences of your sabotage of Monsieur Aladdin's vessel. Or did you?"

Mozenrath flinched; Snatcher was right. "Then I'll get to kill him later in a more satisfying way. Though I'm fairly confident I managed to get the better of him. After all, being stranded on a backwater world for all eternity isn't the same as being dead. My rule only applies to death."

"We will find out the results later," Snatcher resolved, "after Monsieur Vexen takes reconnaissance."

"Is that all, then?" Yzma asked. "We've all reported in?"

"That SHOULD be everything," Mim answered.

Yzma rose. "Then I have a limelight to grace."

"Knock 'em dead!" Aghoul encouraged.

Yzma took her turn on the stage at the first available moment. Snatcher followed her up, and it was honestly difficult to say who had performed with greater talent and showmanship. (Aghoul described both performances as "killer.") The night descended into more casual conversation from there as performers rotated.

Mozenrath slowly let himself get forgotten about. Yzma had dropped a hint or two that he should perform a song that night, but the atmosphere in the room was still somewhat difficult to connect with. The other six at the table were concerned enough with their own performances, and each other's, that Mozenrath found it fairly easy to slip away from them without anyone protesting. It wasn't as though he hadn't enjoyed the night, but he still had his limits – albeit limits that were getting worn down the longer he spent with his companions.

He found himself on an outdoor balcony, watching the colors of interspace shift and undulate. He was still on the same level as the karaoke room, and could hear faint noise coming from the venue, but the atmosphere was much more tranquil here.

Mozenrath had lost track of exactly how much time he'd spent observing the various interdimensional hues mingle, thinking about what his next steps might be in his plans for conquest, when he heard a voice from behind him: "Nice night, huh?"

Mozenrath, startled, nearly fell off the edge of the balcony from flinching. He quickly turned, ready to chew out the person – most likely Roman, he had thought upon the basic realization that the voice was young and male – who had followed him out here for interrupting his reverie.

But when he came face-to-face with Hans, he was more confused than angry. Not to mention a little happily surprised.

"I've seen nicer," he said by way of trying to take the reins of the conversation. "Not to mention there's no guarantee this is actually night."

"That's right," Hans realized. "You wouldn't have days or nights out here, would you?"

"We make our own," Mozenrath answered. "Not that it matters, since most of us would rather stay up all night and sleep through the day anyway."

"You don't strike me as that kind of person," Hans commented. "I see you as more of an early riser."

"Well, I'm not 'most of us,'" Mozenrath told him with a smile.

"So what brings you all the way out here when everyone else is having the time of their lives in there?" Hans asked.

"As I said," Mozenrath reiterated, "I'm not 'most of us.' And I'm definitely not 'everyone else.' Their parties are fine, but I could deal with more intermissions."

"I noticed you haven't sang yet," Hans pointed out.

"And I'm not going to," Mozenrath insisted.

"What?" Hans was halfway between disappointed and teasing. "Really?"

"I don't sing for just anyone at any time," Mozenrath told him, deciding not to count anything he had done under the influence of coffee or anger.

"Not a singer," Hans identified. "At least tell me you dance."

"I definitely don't dance," Mozenrath said stonily. "You have a better chance of catching me singing than dancing."

"Seriously?" Hans replied.

"Why is this so hard for you to understand?" Mozenrath asked casually.

Hans shrugged. "I just think it's fun. Singing and dancing, I mean. I guess it's not for everyone. But then again, I wonder."

"I'm about to regret asking this, aren't I?" Mozenrath replied, noticing the very obvious bait Hans had laid. "What do you wonder?"

"If maybe you've just been singing and dancing to the wrong songs," Hans suggested. "Or with the wrong partner."

Mozenrath's smirk, for a moment, turned into an honest smile. "Why don't you tell me what YOU'RE doing out here?"

"Well, I guess I really can't lie about this one," Hans admitted. "I saw you leave and I noticed that you didn't come back. So I went looking for you."

"I interest you that much."

"Do I even need to say that at this point?" Hans shrugged. "You kind of like me…and I kind of like you. You REALLY impressed me back in Hyrule, you know. After you've spent your life flirting with empty-headed, shallow royals looking for marriage to magically solve all their problems, it's a refreshing breath of air to meet one with an actual brain in his head. Though, then again, I could be biased. I don't actually like flirting with women, and you are an INCREDIBLY handsome man."

"You'll get farther talking up my mind than you will my face," Mozenrath informed Hans.

"Then I'll say you're brilliant," Hans responded. "And it's true."

"I'm well aware," Mozenrath said, though it was still nice to hear. "Meanwhile, you might just be up my alley. You're a devious man. You don't just stop at the top; you aim for the stars. And there's something…charming about you. It's no wonder you fooled the princess so easily. You're the persuasive type."

"And yet I can't seem to talk you into a dance," Hans faux-lamented.

"Don't give up now," Mozenrath told him. "I didn't think you were the type who gave up so easily."

"I don't," Hans said point-blank. "But if you insist the answer is no, I'm not going to force your hand. I respect you too much for that."

Mozenrath gave a playful sigh. "And that's exactly how you wear me down. All right. I would humor you. Unfortunately, there's still one problem in the way."

"So now you want to dance," Hans said by way of clarification.

"I would," Mozenrath admitted, "if I could. The thing is…I can't actually dance." He tried to shrug it off, make it seem casual. "It must be the trade I made with the multiverse to be so intelligent."

"Everyone can dance," Hans argued.

"You've never seen me try," Mozenrath retorted, suddenly losing his air of confidence.

"Well, if you really wanted," Hans suggested, "I could show you."

"You. Show me how to dance."

"Overstepping?" Hans asked.

"No," Mozenrath responded. "Like I said…I'm ready to humor you. So how would we begin?"

"Well…" Hans stepped closer to him. "We could start with the slow dances I was taught growing up in court. But that involves getting a little close."

"Well, then," Mozenrath replied, his walls suddenly down, "come closer."

"Okay. It's like this." Hans gingerly placed his right hand on Mozenrath's shoulder. His left hand grasped Mozenrath's left. "First of all, this hand…" He brought it to his own waist, holding it there an inch away from making contact. "Goes here."

Mozenrath closed the distance, settling his hand over Hans' waist, which he noted had an aesthetically pleasing curve to it.

"Now use your free hand to take mine," Hans directed.

They clasped hands professionally at first, their grip softening into something more intimate.

"Now," Hans went on, "when I move my foot forward, you move yours back…"

Hans talked Mozenrath through a simple step at first, working up to a more complicated twist. Mozenrath's eyes were focused downward on his feet at first, making sure he got the movements down; dancing still seemed awkward and unnatural. Once his feet settled into a comfortable pattern, he looked up to meet Hans' eyes. Those eyes sparkled with merriment.

Hans, in turn, observed the side of Mozenrath that was being revealed: more unsure than usual, almost vulnerable. "So," he suggested, "are you ready to take this up a few steps?"

Back in the karaoke room, Yzma stepped off the stage after her fifth flashy performance number. "Now THAT'S how you SLAY!" Aghoul complimented, punctuating the comment with a whistle.

"You realize that at this point, some of us are going as long as we are to see how many different death-related metaphors you can make," Yzma informed him.

"Anyone else notice Righty disappeared?" Roman pointed out.

"Of course he did," Wuya sighed. "When has he ever gone a whole karaoke night without disappearing or complaining?"

"And here I was thinking he was actually enjoying himself," Snatcher sighed.

"He was for a minute there, wasn't he?" Roman agreed. "I think we would be just TERRIBLE friends to not give him the chance to do that again."

"We should MOST CERTAINLY go find him and drag him back into the room," Mim said wickedly.

"But would we truly be looking out for his best interests if we didn't coerce him into learning how freeing it is to sing a number or two?" Aghoul added. "It's for his own good."

"I do believe we have a quest before us," Snatcher remarked.

"Onward!" Yzma proclaimed.

The six left the room, only realizing after they'd gone a good distance down the hallway that searching a terra-sized warship for one person was going to be harder than they'd expected. However, a clue soon made its way through the air: the faint sound of two voices singing in concert.

"That…CAN'T be what I think it is," Wuya commented.

The six hurried their steps once it became clear what the audio they were receiving actually was. Bursting onto the balcony all at once, they had their suspicions confirmed: Mozenrath and Hans were singing a perky duet, dancing in time with each other with mile-wide smiles.

They were so wrapped up in their love song that they didn't notice, at first, that they had an audience. It was Mozenrath who was first to spot the six dropped jaws and astonished stares. And when he did, he abruptly tripped over his own feet, staggering a moment before regaining a position in which he stood absolutely still, hands flying off Hans, face flushing with color as he regarded his friends in an equally flabbergasted manner and wondered how much magic it would take to wipe this specific memory from all of their minds.

"This…wasn't what it looked like," he managed at last.

"Then what was it?" Wuya asked slyly, regaining her composure.

"Who told you to follow me?" Mozenrath barked, hoping to change the subject.

"What. Were. You. Doing?" Wuya insisted.

"DANCING!" Mozenrath cried. "AND SINGING! IS THAT A PROBLEM?"

"Well, I suppose not, if you declare it isn't," Snatcher replied, though his mouth was still upturned mischievously.

"Forget you saw this," Mozenrath growled.

"Never," Roman insisted.

"I will MAKE you forget you saw this," Mozenrath vowed.

"Good luck with that," Aghoul told him.

"Come on, Mozenrath." Hans set a hand gently on his shoulder. "Does it really matter to them if they know what we get up to in our alone time? They are your trusted friends. And it was pretty innocent. At least they know now you can actually dance if you want to."

"That…was actually better than the last time I saw you try to dance," Roman observed. "A lot better."

"What happened last time he tried to dance?" Mim asked.

"I'll show you the video evidence later," Roman told her.

"THERE'S VIDEO EVIDENCE?" Mozenrath roared.

"Which you have now proven you're better than," Hans reminded him.

"It really isn't THAT big of a deal," Yzma realized. "We were going to try and get him to sing for an audience anyway. What's worth commenting on here is how close those two have suddenly gotten."

"Can you still say he's not your boy-toy?" Mim teased.

"I can definitely still say that," Mozenrath grunted.

"Then what exactly ARE you?" Aghoul asked. "Engaged? Lovers?"

"That's actually a good question," Hans commented. "What exactly are we? I know we're not engaged. I ruled that one out."

"I…I don't think we decided on that," Mozenrath stated as he faced Hans. "It's obvious there's something between us. And we need to put a label on it."

"I know you've had guy troubles and all," Hans said, "but I'm not asking for any big commitment. Maybe just a few dances and the occasional kiss. I just know I want to mean something to you. You already mean a lot to me."

"You've gotten a remarkable distance under my skin for only knowing me as long as you have," Mozenrath admitted. "All right. We can be together. So long as it's on my terms."

"And what are your terms?" Hans asked.

"We dance," Mozenrath explained. "We kiss. We trade romantic favors. But we stay in separate rooms. For now, at least. And you absolutely do NOT have the same ranking as the WHAM ARMY founders until you've earned it."

"I can live with all that," Hans confirmed. "So I am officially your boyfriend now."

"You are," Mozenrath confirmed, feeling quite good about this decision. Then, addressing their audience of six, "It's actually better you find out like this. It saves me having to explain it to you."

"I'm really going to have to get to know the rest of you better," Hans added.

"Did he just take all the fun out of us teasing him about his boyfriend?" Roman mourned.

"Well, at least they're happy," Wuya said with a shrug. "So are you two coming back to the party or not?"

"If we feel like it," Mozenrath answered.

"That's good enough for me," Hans confirmed.

"Then we will return without you," Snatcher declared, turning to leave with a flourish. "I believe Mademoiselle Yzma has sung five songs to my four, and I intend to rise to her challenge."

Snatcher, Roman, Yzma, Wuya, Mim, and Aghoul filtered back into the ship, leaving Mozenrath and Hans to look each other in the eye once more.

"May I have another dance?" Hans asked, extending his hand.

Mozenrath settled into position around him, taking the lead. "Gladly." The smile he gave Hans was unfettered and sincere.

...

When Clayton awoke on the hospital bed installed in the Villain's Vale medical bay, surrounded by curtains that kept the beds separate, his first instinct was to look to the place where his severed arm had once been. Mentally cursing Mozenrath for taking such a strong and perfect limb away from him, he sat up and shifted his eyes to the spot.

What he saw repulsed him. It was almost worse than the stump of a limb flailing before empty air. There was a growth extending from his shoulder there: a mockery of an arm. It was just as burly as the one he had lost, but blacker than a moonless night and coated in thick fur. It ended in five long, crooked fingers tipped with sharp claws.

"What IS this?" he yelled, using his human arm to grasp it and try to pull it away.

The man who had come to collect him at the spring stepped into view. "I believe the proper response is 'Thank you,'" Arthur Watts said dryly.

"What have you DONE TO ME?" Clayton roared. "What is this infernal THING?"

"That," Watts answered coolly, "would be your arm. You will find it is fully functional and will respond to you as smoothly as your previous arm did. It is also a good deal stronger, and comes with certain abilities that you did not possess when it was merely a human arm. But we can discuss that later when you feel less inclined to destroy me over giving you what any rational person would consider a gift."

He pulled back the curtains, revealing Clayton's presence to the inhabitants of three other beds; the rest of the bay was empty. "Go ahead and fantasize about tearing my head off," he encouraged. "By all means. Your new arm would allow you to do it if you wished. Just keep in mind that by taking on my role as medic, I have curried Maleficent's favor, while you have recently suffered a loss at the hands of a gaggle of pests." He gave a condescending look around the room at all four patients. "I would in fact stay out of Maleficent's way if I were you, and that goes for all four of you. I have no doubt she will forgive and forget if you toe the line, but right now, she doesn't need a reminder of what this…" He couldn't remember Mozenrath's name and he didn't care. "…upstart sorcerer did to her forces. What she needs is to focus on the fact that the sands worked."

"At least remove this IV," Cyclonis growled, referring to the device pumping fluid into her arm, "and let me leave before I decide to do it myself."

Watts reached for the hand of hers that wasn't attached to the IV, holding it up. It trembled slightly but constantly. "You don't get to leave until that subsides," he declared. "As for the IV, you were also horrendously dehydrated. Have you been drinking enough water? Silly me of asking; of course you haven't. I suppose I can't stop you from leaving. Just as I can't stop you from trembling involuntarily or collapsing in front of your esteemed allies if that is what you want."

Cyclonis gave Watts a glare that could almost kill, but remained in bed.

"And you," Watts reminded McLeach, "don't get to leave until the last of the scales have fallen off."

"How much longer?" McLeach groaned; he was mostly human, but his skin still retained a green hue, and the fins on his limbs had only just retreated back into his skin.

"Two hours at the longest," Watts promised. "It would have been much quicker had I been allowed access to some of the more magical supplies in this facility, but I am to understand there is a level of trust that must be gained first."

"Who would trust you after learning you were capable of turning them into beasts?" Clayton growled.

"Would you rather have NO arm?" Watts asked.

"This is a monstrosity!" Clayton raged, flailing the Grimm arm.

"Then you would rather have no arm," Watts mused. "Well, more's the pity. I'm not anesthetizing you again." He turned to face the fourth patient. "The offer still stands for you to have a similar treatment done to your legs, of course."

"I'll take a hard pass," Mercury said hurriedly. "If my legs are Grimm, what am I supposed to shoot people with?"

"A gun," Clayton volunteered. "Like a man. Why do YOU get a choice of what your limbs should be?"

"Because Maleficent finds you too valuable to outfit with mere mechanical parts," Watts answered, "and made that clear to me before I began my work. On the other hand, Salem knows Mercury well enough to recognize that he operates most smoothly with mechanical prosthetics. Everything I do is for a reason, you know."

"Who are you?" Cyclonis asked. "This is the first I've seen of you. How do I know you have the skill to act as our healer?"

"You may call me Dr. Watts," Watts answered. "I regret to inform you that my best reference in your case is that I work closely with Cinder Fall and Tyrian Callows. Shame you had to meet them first."

"I actually rather admire Cinder," Cyclonis argued. "I'm skeptical that you can place yourself that far above her."

"Oh, dear, you're more dehydrated than I thought," Watts replied. "Give the IV another hour and see if your head becomes clearer." He gave the room one last look. "Now, be good little boys and girls and stay in bed until I return to check your physical states." He strode away without any further warning.

"This is an outrage!" Clayton roared as he leapt out of bed. "I'll have his head for this!" Instinctively, he latched his new arm under the side of the bed, simply looking to destroy anything he could out of anger. "If he thinks he can make a monster of me – "

He effortlessly ripped the bed out of the floor with one arm and overturned it on top of the empty adjacent bed.

"Watch where you're throwing those things!" McLeach barked.

"Hmm," Clayton mused, looking at his work. "Perhaps there is a use for this blasphemy of nature after all…"

Watts, in the meantime, made a strict beeline for his destination. He rapped politely on the wooden double doors of the chamber he had been told to report to. A cold but soft female voice bade him, "Come in."

Watts entered the chamber, where Maleficent and Salem stood before him, speaking directly face-to-face. A burly man, bearing a short beard and donning dark clothes covered with a long olive-green coat, stood against the wall between them and the door, arms crossed as though he was keeping watch over the discussion.

"How are our patients?" Maleficent asked.

Watts knew she didn't mean the four generals. "Recovering," he answered. "Ursula more quickly than Cinder, though no one is surprised there. I will monitor their conditions, but they should both be back in working order in due time."

"Did you deem it necessary to make any replacements for either?" Salem asked.

"As a matter of fact, no," Watts related. "Ursula is astoundingly durable, and I do believe Cinder will just pull through with all limbs intact." He had been half tempted to swap one of Cinder's limbs out for a more powerful appendage just in the name of improving his co-worker, but he kept that to himself. He hadn't given into that temptation, anyhow. He wasn't reckless. "Though what surprises me most of all is Ganondorf. He arrived looking half on his deathbed, but absolutely resisted any and all treatment from me. I'm well aware the man could break me in his bare hands, so I acquiesced. Given enough time, his wounds simply healed over on their own. There will be some scarring, but nothing life-altering. A truly fascinating specimen. If he were willing to let me study him a little longer, I might be able to improve my own techniques."

"Do not make demands of Ganondorf," Maleficent ordered. "He is not your research subject. He is a valuable ally for the very reasons you have stated, and it would not do to bother one of his stature with annoyances."

"I hardly consider your newly-appointed chief medic an annoyance," Watts said indignantly.

"Are you talking back to our new benefactor?" Salem asked.

"Oh, good heavens, no." Watts put up his hands. "It was an idle comment. Ill-thought-out. Anyhow, that concludes my report. I shall continue my treatments and bring you updates."

"Only as necessary," Salem ordered. "Reduce your reports to every other hour."

"Of course," Watts said with a short bow. "Though if I may make one simple request?"

"Be brief," Maleficent warned him.

"Is there a library of any sort within this castle that is meant for public use?" Watts inquired. "I wish to have a sanctuary in which to pass the time between my care of the patients, and one suited to more intellectual pursuits would be preferable."

Maleficent nodded. "You may use the library on the second floor. Peruse the first room to your heart's content. Do not enter any of the other rooms beyond. Earn my trust, and you may well be granted access to those sections at a later time. Enter them without my permission, however, and I will know immediately. I do not take kindly to abuse of my hospitality."

"Of course," Watts confirmed.

"Hazel," Salem said, addressing the silent man who stood guard nearby.

Hazel Rainart gave a grunt and looked to her.

"Go with him," Salem ordered. "The rest of our conversation is to remain private."

"As you wish," Hazel acquiesced.

Upon departure, as soon as the wooden doors had closed behind them, Watts asked Hazel, "Were they discussing the relics?"

"Yes," Hazel confirmed. "It seems there may be some changes to the plan."

Once she was sure they were alone, Maleficent asked, "What steps did you intend to take to retrieve this relic?"

"I already have a contact at Haven," Salem explained. "No one we can trust, but someone who fears us enough to bow to our will. If any of Ozpin's forces remain active, he will keep them at bay long enough for us to reach the lantern. Where things get interesting is the role of the Spring Maiden. My contact has given me a tale regarding her, stating that she ran away from her responsibility and joined forces with a tribe of bandits. However, I have my doubts about this tale. It's almost too convenient."

"I can confirm the Maiden's whereabouts," Maleficent offered, "but for a price."

"A share of the relic's power," Salem confirmed. "I think that can be arranged."

"Your forces may not be adequate to even retrieve the lantern," Maleficent went on. "Lend me your Grimm, and in kind, I shall discern which of my forces will be best to dispatch to Remnant when the time comes."

"I think – "

Whatever Salem thought, it was cut off by the double doors slamming open. Without saying a word, Ganondorf strode into the chamber, eyes fixed upon Maleficent.

Maleficent put up a hand, palm outward, to Salem. "We will resume this discussion at another time," she stated. "For now, there is a far more important matter to attend to."

She faced Ganondorf next. "Am I to understand that the sands worked as intended?" she asked.

"They did," Ganondorf confirmed.

"Please, tell me all," Maleficent bade him.

Ganondorf gave her a brief nod before beginning to relate how he had warped Hyrule.

...

The structure, fashioned after the Sphinx in exterior and a temple inside, floated through interspace freely, unconnected to any world. Black sand pooled at the entryway, snaking inside over the floors.

The grainy earth made its way into the very heart of the sanctum, a room of sandstone walls lit by flaming torches. Once it reached its destination, it piled up, forming itself into a humanoid shape. By the end of the transformation, Pitch Black stood in the room, facing the two catlike people who had contacted him.

"Well?" Mirage asked. "Did you leave a mark?"

"As a matter of fact, I did," Pitch answered. "The vast majority of them will have gruesome food for thought for weeks to come. I only pity I wasn't able to search the mind of the leader."

"The time for that will come," Mirage promised. "Soon, those pests will stand as a testament to the power that rests within true fear."

"My doubts are being erased," Sendak said with a grin.

"As they should have been the moment you allied with me," Pitch told him.

"When do we strike next?" Sendak asked.

"As powerful as we are," Mirage stated, "we still number only three. We could stand to bolster our numbers before making our next move. Luckily, I know just who to contact. I think you'll get along with them swimmingly."

...

The karaoke party eventually died when the majority of attendees simply got tired and headed off to bed, having collectively declared that it must be relatively late at what passed for night. Ravess did manage to get her violin performance in, and Vexen discovered that listening to her music with a heart present was an altogether different kind of splendor than listening passively with no emotional connection. Yzma and Snatcher became locked in a duel of alternating songs with no one in between for a good half hour, and at the end, had finally decided to just call it a tie. The night ended with everyone learning that Ayam Aghoul had a singing voice that was unconventional, but, when paired with the right sort of ballad, strangely scintillating.

As the crowd dispersed, Wuya approached Yzma and simply said, "Walk with me."

Yzma saw no reason not to, and found herself striding alongside Wuya on the way to the latter's quarters.

"So, remind me," Wuya said. "Are Mozenrath and the Huntsman the ONLY reason we aren't together?"

"Well, they did set a bad standard," Yzma pointed out.

"But now Mozenrath has just moved right on to Hans," Wuya pointed out. "They seem to be working out. Mim and Aghoul are still working out. I should hardly need to mention Snatcher and Roman. But I think what really brought home how pointless we're being about this is seeing Vexen show up with a date."

"We don't know it was a date," Yzma reminded Wuya. "We only have an incredibly solid theory that it was a date."

"I'm no scientist," Wuya concluded, "but there seem to be a lot more examples that dating one's partner in crime will go WELL than there are that it won't. Beyond that, think about it. We're compatible. We're each other's type. We understand each other. I want you, and I'm pretty sure you want me."

"Well, since you bring it up," Yzma admitted, "yes."

"So you know what it would make sense to do."

"Now hold on," Yzma brought up. "There is the matter of you being a known traitor. Did you have any sort of relationship with any of your Heylin associates?"

"Almost," Wuya answered. "Twice. But you…you are different. You are something neither of them could ever hope to be. If I end up betraying you, something has gone incredibly wrong."

"Well, then, let's do it," Yzma resolved. "Let's be together. Just don't expect me to get all sentimental about it."

"Do you really take me for the kind of person who wants sentiment?" Wuya asked.

"Good point," Yzma realized.

"I want to show you something," Wuya declared before stopping beside a door. "And here it is."

"Isn't this just your apartment?" Yzma asked.

"It's so much more than just my apartment," Wuya declared, opening the door. "See for yourself."

Yzma stepped inside what seemed to be a miniature palace. The space was definitely bigger on the inside than space would allow on the outside. The foyer had a vaulted ceiling; arched doorways led to a plethora of other rooms. The color scheme was quite dark, lit by torches of emerald-green flame.

Entranced, Yzma gave the entire place a look, peering through each of the doors. A dining room boasted a lengthy, polished wooden table with legs carved in the shape of dragons; a buffet spilled over with food of all sorts. A bathroom held an array of pastel-colored soaps and other liquids in intricately forged glass bottles shelved over a tub big enough to fit at least two. The bedroom's centerpiece was a bed of absolutely massive width and length, with a mattress that looked incredibly plush draped in green-and-black blankets with tassels and embroidery. Finally, several rock creatures stood at attention in what was clearly a miniature spa, holding hot towels out before massage beds.

"This is my sanctuary," Wuya explained, "in which I do whatever I want. Don't you dare tell anyone else, or else they'll all want me to make their rooms over exactly the same way, and doing this takes a lot of energy. I only do it when I know I have nothing better to spend my magic on for the next few hours."

"Didn't you only have to put this together once?" Yzma asked incredulously.

Wuya shrugged. "Sometimes I get bored and change the architecture of the entire place. If you want to move in, I'm going to have to add a lot more purple and take some design cues from your empire."

"Me?" Yzma repeated. "Move in here?" A smile broke out over her face and her eyes positively glittered. "When can I begin?"

"Well, you can spend tonight here," Wuya suggested, "then we can work on moving your things in when you wake up. Or, if you don't feel like doing the work, I can probably create you a new wardrobe from scratch. After all, you and I deserve only the best, don't we?"

"Finally, someone who gets it," Yzma remarked.

"What catches your eye?" Wuya asked. "Shall we put the rock creatures to work giving a proper massage? Or did you want to talk over a bite to eat first? Or something you didn't see here? Remember, this is where you can do WHATEVER you want. Oh, and the best part is it's enchanted so Mozenrath can't teleport in."

"Good," Yzma snorted. "That man wouldn't know the definition of 'privacy' if someone turned him into a dictionary. Specifically a dictionary that was two thousand pages of the definition of 'privacy,' repeated. As for all this…" Yzma suddenly appeared unsure. "Hmm. I don't know…"

"You've been given everything you could ask for," Wuya prodded, "and you don't know what you want? That doesn't seem very like you."

"Well," Yzma sputtered, "this is just…so sudden! And I've…been feeling sick. With Kaminaljuyu Influenza. Which isn't contagious, but causes indecisiveness. That's the first symptom. Being uncharacteristically indecisive."

"Really." Wuya raised an eyebrow. She stepped closer to Yzma, raising her hands. "Then why don't we start with something simple?"

Wuya's palms slipped comfortably around the soft skin of Yzma's face, gently pulling her close. Yzma, knowing what was coming, leaned in with gusto, meeting Wuya's lips thirstily. It was a connection she hadn't known she needed so badly. Her own arms snaked their way around Wuya's back, drawing the latter in, finding and feeling the end of her silky red hair –

"I knew it," Wuya muttered as she pulled her lips away.

Yzma, suddenly aware she had been somehow tricked, backed away just enough to see Wuya's eyes sparkling knowingly. "You forgot I could read your thoughts through touch," Wuya announced, "didn't you?"

"WHAT DID YOU SEE?" Yzma asked in a sudden panic.

"You barely know how to acknowledge it," Wuya stated, "but you don't think you're good enough for me."

"What?" Yzma was taken aback. "How could that even be possible? Of course I'm good enough for you! I'm better than anyone else here!"

"You think I'm going to hold back because of your age," Wuya spelled out. "As though I'm not over a millennium old. Your lifespan only equates out to my rebellious younger years." She gave that statement some thought. "Which were a predecessor to my rebellious older years."

"It's not as if it SHOWS on you!" Yzma argued. "You still have the hair and skin of a thirty-year-old! Or maybe twenty-eight and five months, to be more accurate."

"And you really think it matters that you don't?" Wuya countered. She interlaced her hands with Yzma's, feeling each individual finger. "I thought I had established that you're steaming hot." She leaned in closer, practically draping herself on Yzma. "In fact, everything about you that betrays your age actually makes you hotter. You don't mind me getting a little closer, do you?"

"No, but now you're just lying," Yzma said dryly. "For the record, I blame the sun. Sun exposure does absolutely no good for the skin."

"I think it's been established that we all hate the sun," Wuya reminded her, walking the fingers of her left hand up Yzma's right arm. "And I'm not lying. I've been waiting for a while to do exactly this."

"I've been turned down by enough men and women back home to know that I haven't been wanted for several years," Yzma confessed, held back from enjoying the moment ever so slightly by her reservations.

"And yet, here I am, doing the opposite of turning you down," Wuya reminded her. "Why would I lie to you about this?"

"I…" Yzma had to admit she was at a loss. "I don't know."

"I'm not lying."

"Well…maybe you're not," Yzma finally relented. Wuya's touch was exhilarating; she had to pay it back, she knew, and her fingers slid up the back of Wuya's neck and embedded themselves in the roots of her hair at the base of her skull. Inspired by proximity, she leaned in to press a kiss to Wuya's forehead.

They'd been comfortable together for a while now, they both realized, and this was just the logical extension.

"We could just stand here all night," Wuya suggested. "But I'm guessing you have a taste for something more."

"Well, I wouldn't mind finding out how good of a massage your rock creatures can actually give," Yzma admitted.

Wuya lifted herself off Yzma, breaking out of her grip, and it was a mild disappointment that was soon resolved. "I've trained them incredibly well," Wuya stated. "If you have any other concerns, we can talk them over while they work out all our rough spots."

"That was the last concern," Yzma replied.

"You know I'll find out if you're lying," Wuya reminded her. She wished she could reverse the process for the express purpose of showing Yzma that she was serious about wanting their involvement despite the marks of time left on her body. But as of yet, she hadn't figured out a way to let anyone see into her own thoughts; only to peer into the minds of others. Perhaps this was the proper motivator for her to seek out such a reversal.

"I'm well aware," Yzma stated. "But even so, we have better things to talk about."

"Such as?"

"How next time, you're going to be my karaoke partner and help me put Mr. Snatcher in his place."

The pair moved toward the spa room as Wuya responded, "That would hardly be a fair fight. Roman can't sing a note on key. It would be two against one."

"That's exactly why we're going to do it," Yzma affirmed.

"How fiendish," Wuya complimented. "You're only proving I made the right choice tonight."

Within moments, they lay on their stomachs gossiping away as the rock creatures delivered them a surprisingly gentle massage given their solid composition.

...

Sora, Riku, Aladdin, Jasmine, Ruby, Stork, Papyrus, and Katara gathered before their Gummi ship; they were faced by Link, Zelda, and the newly healed Midna.

"You're SURE you're going to be okay if we leave," Katara said with doubt.

"We will be," Zelda confirmed.

"We can take care of ourselves," Midna asserted. "But you need to go out there, track down that bratty sorcerer, and bring back my Fused Shadow!"

"You could come along if you wanted," Sora offered.

"I thought about it," Midna admitted, "but I think I better stay here for now. These two are going to need my help to put all the pieces back together. They can't get anything done without me, you know."

Zelda gave a polite giggle while Link admitted, "You always do help me through difficult times. I'm not sure I could have come half as far on my own as I do when I'm with you."

"But you can't go back home," Ruby lamented.

"Some way will show up eventually," Midna told her. "Besides, I have things I want to do here in Hyrule anyway. There are a lot of people I'd like to get to know better."

She lay a hand on Link's shoulder as she said this. Link turned to her to see a mischievous smile across her face. "You already do know me," he said contently.

"But I could still get to know you even better," Midna reminded him. "And there's plenty you don't know about me." She turned her focus back to the traveling heroes; "Now, when you find that brat, give him as much pain as you can for me!"

"We're not really a 'pain-giving' kind of group," Aladdin told her, "but when it comes to bringing him in to justice? I've already got plenty of reasons to give him some payback. Now I'm doing it for you and for me."

Stork found it hard to look Zelda in the eye. "You know, I…" He cast his gaze to the ground. "I'm sorry I was right. Deep down, I was hoping this was just another baseless accusation based on my natural instinct for distrust, you know?"

"I should have known better," Zelda responded. "I should have seen through his act."

"Nobody can blame you if he lied to you," Sora assured her. "You did everything you were supposed to do. You trusted him because he made it look like he loved you. There's nothing wrong with that. It's him who should have done better."

"And we're not just gonna let him get away with breaking your heart," Riku added.

"We're going to miss all of you," Link said sincerely. "I'm glad we all met."

"So am I!" Sora said proudly. "Maybe we'll get to see each other again someday!"

"I'd like that," Link confirmed.

"So would I," Zelda added.

"I wouldn't mind," Midna chimed in.

"Well, it looks like we have to part ways for now," Sora announced. "Mozenrath is still somewhere out there, and I don't think he'll be hanging around here now that he got what he wanted."

"Not to mention we now have to worry about Ganondorf working with Maleficent," Riku added. "They're not making things easy. We have to watch out for whatever world is in danger from them next."

"May the goddesses bless you," Zelda bade them.

The eight travelers boarded their ship, which lifted into the air and sailed away from Hyrule as Link, Zelda, and Midna watched from below. The instant it was out of sight, Midna told Link, "Don't you dare think about putting that sword back again."

The ship shuddered upon entering interspace; Stork patted the dashboard, muttering, "Eeeeeasy." Then, with growing dread, "She's never done that before…"

Papyrus took a seat next to Ruby, who was staring out the window at the world they were leaving behind. "ARE YOU OKAY?"

"Yeah," Ruby replied. "I just didn't get to finish what I started after all."

"WE CAN JUST ASK WHERE CINDER IS AGAIN WHEN WE GET HOME!" Papyrus assured her.

Ruby shook her head no. "We tried chasing Cinder, and all we found was that Mozenrath was getting in our way even more than she was. We need to focus on finding him and stopping him."

"That's gonna be hard if he keeps running away," Aladdin chimed in from the seat behind Ruby. "That coward."

"He has to be after something," Jasmine mused. "Now he's taken the Fused Shadow. What does that have in common with everything else he's taken? It's all magical, which makes sense for him. But it has to be building to something bigger, or else he would have used what he already has against us."

"But we asked the hourglass," Sora reminded the group, "and we didn't get an answer. Maybe he really doesn't have a plan."

"Oh, trust me," Aladdin confirmed, "Mozenrath has a plan. He doesn't just charge into things without thinking he knows what he's doing."

The entire ship rocked violently, causing everyone to grab onto support.

"What's happening?" Ruby cried.

"I don't know," Stork said nervously. "That has literally never happened before. This is bad. This is very, very bad."

"It might not be that bad," Katara tried to reassure. "As long as we're still flying – "

The ship trembled even more violently upon those words.

"YOU JUST HAD TO SAY SOMETHING," Stork growled.

The engine had given all it could in its state of disrepair. As its components fell apart from each other and jostled about, the ship of which it was the heart finally stopped shaking. That would have been a relief if it had not, immediately upon ceasing shaking, gone stone-still.

"We're not flying anymore," Stork announced in a panic as he frantically jerked at the steering wheel, punching every button on the dashboard. "We are NOT flying anymore! I have NO control over where we're going!"

"Everybody stay calm!" Sora yelled, standing up. "Everything's going to be okay – "

"YOU WANT TO TELL THAT TO THOSE?" Stork yelled, gesturing over the dashboard to where the ship was about to enter a field of debris with no way to steer.

The ship slammed into a large rock of Gummi, propelled at a sharp angle to its original course until it collided with another and was sent tumbling wing over wing. The debris field tossed and turned the ship, sending it every which way until it was finally knocked hard in one particular direction.

In interspace, there is no gravity. Therefore, it is impossible to fall. But at the speed at which the ship fell, in a direction that felt like straight down, it might as well have been truly falling, and none of its passengers onboard was certain that anyone would survive when it made impact.

And then, without warning, it hit solid ground and stopped.

...

Beneath the administrative building on the central island of the vacation destination known simply as Jabberwock Island, fifteen pods, each built to contain a human body, were arranged in a neat circle in a dark subterranean room. Computer monitors flashed on the walls around them, displaying vital signs for the ten bodies that were still held within them. Five of the pods' occupants had woken up two weeks prior; it was uncertain if the remaining ten would ever do the same.

Sonia Nevermind hadn't given up hope. Every day since she had exited her coma, she had visited this very room in order to keep one pod's inhabitant company. She knew he wasn't aware of her presence. In fact, he wasn't aware of anything. He was trapped in a deep coma, the computer systems that ran the room taking care of his bodily functions and making sure he still breathed. Sonia approached his pod as usual, brushing her fingers over the glass lid that sealed it. She looked over the restful face of Gundham Tanaka, taking in the false scar he'd tattooed over his left eye some time before she had met him, when they were still seventeen; the faded white streaks in his raven hair; his lanky frame, shrouded in black leather.

"Good afternoon," she said softly, as though he could hear her. "I hope you don't mind that I've come to visit you again." She nervously tucked a lock of her long blonde hair behind one ear. "It has not been a very exciting day. Akane invited me to go swimming, but I did not feel like joining her. I think she wanted to do something to take our minds off all that has happened." She sighed. "It was a very kind gesture on her part, but I do not see how such recreational activities can erase years of memories. Hajime made us all breakfast and lunch again. It was delicious as usual. He joked that if he can be grateful for anything about the time he spent as Izuru, it is the talent he has retained in cooking." A long pause before her next topic: "I thought I saw dolphins breaching on the horizon today. They made me think of you. I wish you could have seen them. I know you would have loved them." She wasn't able to stop the tears from filling her eyes at that point; she had suspected they would be unstoppable once she spoke of the animals she knew Gundham would love so much.

She kept talking through her tears, softly finding new minutiae to report on about the day. All the while, she was unaware that she was being watched.

Kazuichi Soda left the door to the room open only a crack through which he could see Sonia as she cried for Gundham. Two weeks, and every day, she had rushed to Gundham's pod at least once to talk to his unconscious body. Two weeks, and every day, Kazuichi had followed her and simply watched.

His thoughts were complicated, to say the least. He, Sonia, and three others had been the only five to survive the simulation program that all fifteen minds had been placed into by order of a kind benefactor who had gone against the wishes of what stood for the world government to do so. When they had been placed in the simulation, the intent had been for them to rehabilitate from a state of despair, depression, and violence that had turned them to villainy. But things had gone wrong. Ten of those within the simulation had died in a circumstance that none of the five survivors liked to think about. Death in the simulation meant death of the mind in real life; the body survived, but the mind was left in limbo, with no one able to truly say for sure if the ten could be revived or if they had simply perished permanently.

The five survivors weren't supposed to remember the simulation. That had been their price for getting out alive. And at first, they hadn't. But slowly, over the course of the first week, the memories had come back to them from the recesses of their minds. Hajime Hinata, who the group considered their ringleader after remembering how he had rallied them against a fearsome foe in the simulation, had taken this as a sign of hope. If the five of them could retrieve memories they weren't supposed to have, then the ten others still had their minds locked somewhere within. But he still hadn't come up with a way to access them, despite having resolved to save them no matter the cost.

Technically, Gundham had sacrificed himself to save the rest. It had come at the cost of the mind of one other: Nekomaru Nidai, whom Kazuichi had considered a dear friend. Conversely, he had never liked Gundham. Gundham was bizarre and loud. Gundham was difficult to understand and had borne a massive ego. And, most aggravating of all, Sonia had grown almost inseparably close to Gundham. It made sense that she would still hold out hope for him above all others to wake.

That didn't mean Kazuichi had to like it. He had always wanted Sonia. He was convinced he loved her, and, furthermore, that he loved her more than anyone else ever could. He wondered, doubt growing in the pit of his stomach: if it had been him who had gone brain-dead in Gundham's place, would Sonia come to visit him every day?

She was beautiful even now. Her hair, though long and golden, was messy and tangled. She had been brought to the island wearing a wide-skirted gown of golden fabric, a souvenir from her reign of terror as the despotic princess of the Novoselic Kingdom, and as she had worn it across the islands, its impractical skirt had become soiled and tattered. Makoto Naegi, the representative of Future Foundation – the one last governing force in the world since the Tragedy – had promised to bring spare clothes for all of the five survivors when next he visited them, as well as more food for their supply. But as the very act of Makoto acknowledging the five's existence was a source of contention among Future Foundation, it was unsure when he would get the opportunity to sneak away and visit them again.

When the five had first awoken and Sonia had begun visiting Gundham, Kazuichi had followed and watched her out of pure anger and jealousy. He had wanted her to give up on Gundham and focus on Kazuichi himself. After all, he was the one who was still conscious for her to talk to. But something had held him back from marching in and demanding she stop. He just let her speak to Gundham, then left before she could notice he'd been watching.

After that, as his memories of what had happened in the Neo World simulation program had returned, reminding him of how they all had the capacity to be truly good people despite the atrocities they had committed post-Tragedy, his motivation had changed. He became less angry with Gundham's still body and vanished mind and watched Sonia simply to watch her. Everything she did and said hypnotized him, and as he listened to her recount each day's events, he was utterly charmed by the way she found something to report on even on the most mundane of days.

But as of late, he had found the action almost masochistic. He realized he hated watching Sonia be sad. He hated watching her cry. He wanted to stop her tears, and perhaps that should have been incentive for him to come out of hiding, but still he never moved, never let on to her that he had been following her each day. And that very day, a realization struck him. It wasn't the conclusion he had ever wanted to reach. But perhaps it was the only conclusion he could.

What if the only way to make Sonia happy again was to return Gundham to her?

She ran out of things to say and turned away from the pod. Kazuichi hustled back up the stairway before she could reach the door, and once again, she had no idea he had been there.

...

The real Jabberwock Island was far less of a cavalcade of amusements than the Neo World version. It also lacked many of the trappings that made it seem more like civilization. There was no amusement park filled with rollercoasters or a funhouse (much to Kazuichi's relief; rollercoasters were the bane of his existence, and after a particularly horrible incident in Neo World – the incident that had led to the deaths of Nekomaru and Gundham's minds – he never wanted to enter another funhouse in his life). There was no gray island crowded with such morbid things as a military base and a factory for death machines. There wasn't even a hospital or an alleyway filled with electronics shops. Instead, the six islands that formed the resort area contained the administrative building that housed the pods, a host of beach cabanas, a hotel facility, and simple trails for nature walks. The atmosphere was actually quite calming, which, for the five survivors of Neo World, seemed to be the most they could handle.

As the sun began to set, turning the sky over the west beaches pink, the five survivors made their rendez-vous in the hotel dining room for dinner. Hajime was once more in charge of cooking, having decided that it was the sort of night to try his hand at the art of karaage. The kitchen certainly stocked enough seafood for it. He had already spent most of the day taking his mind off more sordid things by whipping up a batch of taiyaki as a special treat, filling it with a sweet coconut custard – he remembered that Kazuichi loved coconuts and fellow survivor Fuyuhiko had a sweet tooth, and hoped the combination would be pleasing.

Sonia was the first to arrive at the table, as was customary; her royal breeding had engraved punctuality into her soul. After that, Kazuichi was the next to drag himself up the stairs, which was no mean feat for him, given the condition of his right leg. He sat down at the table across from Sonia, looking into her gloomy eyes.

"Hey," he greeted.

"Hello, Kazuichi," Sonia replied morosely.

"So, uh…" Kazuichi said unsurely, "do anything interesting today?" Though he already knew the answer to that. He'd heard Sonia tell Gundham everything.

Sonia gave a short nod. "I spent some time on the beach. Akane invited me to go swimming, but I did not feel up to it. Perhaps another day."

"Well," Kazuichi suggested, "if you wanted to go swimming tomorrow, I'd be more than happy to – "

"Tomorrow will not be the day," Sonia said flatly.

Akane Owari, she of rumpled chestnut hair and muscular limbs, was the next to arrive at the table. "Hey," she greeted with a smile that was obviously forced. "You all missed some GREAT water out there. I'm planning on making a lap of the second island tomorrow you wanna come with, Sonia. It'll get some adrenaline in your veins!"

"I do not think I will join you," Sonia told her. "Kazuichi expressed interest in swimming tomorrow."

"You just wanna see me in a swimsuit, perv," Akane accused, though good-naturedly, as she plopped herself down in the chair next to Kazuichi.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Kazuichi replied sharply. "I'm not a perv!" Besides, he thought, Sonia was the one he really wanted to see in a swimsuit.

"Can you even swim with that leg of yours?" Akane asked.

"I can try!" Kazuichi insisted.

"All right," Akane resolved. "Meet me on the second island beach tomorrow. The pretty one. If you can't keep up, I'll leave you behind."

"Oh, I'll keep up!" Kazuichi promised, glad he could rely on Akane to at least fake being in good spirits.

"You just said you'd TRY," Akane pointed out, "and now you think you can keep up with me?" She flashed him a bright grin. "Well, you're on!"

By that time, the blond Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu had ascended the stairs; he was distinctly shorter than the others, and wore a patch over his right eye socket. "What're you being so fucking loud about?" he asked grumpily.

"Kazuichi thinks he can keep up with me in swimming," Akane announced. "But I warned him he better keep up, because I'm not waiting for him! I'm not even going back to save him if he starts drowning."

"Hey!" Kazuichi cried. "You never mentioned not saving me if I drowned!"

As Fuyuhiko settled down next to Sonia and across from Akane, Akane needled, "That's just the breaks of challenging a pro!"

"I'd save you if you drowned!" Kazuichi argued.

"Seriously?" Akane replied. "I think you'd be too – "

"PLEASE do not joke about people dying!" Sonia burst out suddenly.

Akane and Kazuichi were immediately rightly ashamed, hanging their heads.

"Insensitive bastards!" Fuyuhiko added. "Talking like that when we've lost enough people already!"

"I'm sorry, Miss Sonia," Kazuichi said remorsefully. "That was fucked up."

"I'm sorry, too," Akane mumbled sincerely.

Hajime, of average height and build with short brown hair that spiked up at the center of his scalp, turned up just in time to remedy the situation, bearing plates laden with fried seafood and dumplings. "Dinner's served," he announced as he passed out the plates before taking his seat at the head of the table.

All conversation was halted as the five tucked into their food with gusto; Hajime had kept up to his usual standard of quality.

The relationship between the five was long and complex. Akane, Fuyuhiko, Sonia, and Kazuichi had first met when they were enrolled in class 77 of Hope's Peak Academy, having been scouted for the prestigious institution due to their outstanding talents – Akane the Ultimate Gymnast, Fuyuhiko the Ultimate Yakuza, Sonia the Ultimate Princess, and Kazuichi the Ultimate Mechanic. The ten who lay in sleep beneath the islands had made up the rest of that class. It was difficult to say they had all been close at the time; each had suffered their own traumas and rocky backgrounds, and though they had made friends, the students of class 77 had not found it easy to open up to each other. Hajime, by contrast, had paid his way into the school's Reserve Course, where he was regarded as a lesser student by most of the others until he had become a guinea pig of the institution: a science experiment, operated on to be given the capacity for any and all ultimate talent at the expense of his human emotions. This shell hollowed out to house talents had been renamed "Izuru Kamukura" and released upon the world.

It was all the perfect recipe for disaster, one that culminated when the nefarious Junko Enoshima and her sister Mukuro Ikusaba enrolled in class 78 with a plan to bring down the entire world. Junko had preyed upon the human foibles of each of the students of 77 as well as the inhumanity of Izuru in order to recruit them to her side as the Ultimate Despair, convincing them that despair was the only true endgame for the world and their best course of action was to spread it further. She had molded them all into terrorists and dispatched them to wreak her wicked workings following the Tragedy, which was, simply put, the exact time Junko had tipped over the first domino in the chain that would eventually upend the world. Beyond the limits of Jabberwock Island, the rest of the world was beset by riots and consumed in fire, no longer having a stable economy or a reliable government beyond the Future Foundation. Hajime, Fuyuhiko, Akane, Sonia, and Kazuichi, along with the other ten "Remnants of Despair," had committed atrocities in order to make it that way. It was a truth they didn't have to look at so long as they remained on the island, but they all knew it was out there.

Junko eventually met her end, and when she had perished, the Remnants who had belovedly followed her teachings so closely were thrown into even deeper despair than before, retrieving what they could of her body and carving it up so that the most devoted could replace parts of their own with pieces of Junko. Fuyuhiko wore his patch because within that socket rested not his own eye but the dead, useless right eye of Junko Enoshima. Hajime, Akane, and Sonia had seen no need to mutilate themselves, but Kazuichi, having been hysterical over Junko's loss, had severed his entire right leg in order to sew hers in its place. It wasn't truly functional as a leg, and so had to be contained in a special brace Kazuichi had crafted, in the shape of a metal boot with extra support, in order for Kazuichi to be able to walk at all. He still moved with a pronounced limp.

Not too long after Junko's death, Makoto Naegi had stepped in. Upon seeing how young the Remnants were, close to his own age, he had pitied them, wanting to give them another chance at life. That was why, against Future Foundation's wishes, he had placed them in the Neo World program. There, they had all met again as though they had never met before, their memories of Junko and the Remnants erased and their mental age regressed to that of teenagers so they could start anew and learn to welcome hope and goodness back into their hearts.

Makoto hadn't counted on Junko being a step ahead of him and having a backup plan in place should she ever perish. With Izuru's help, she was uploaded into Neo World in AI form, and she came bearing the perfect way to kill off her former loyal servants.

Or, more accurately, the perfect way to convince them to kill each other.

But the five had escaped her. They had woken up. Hajime had returned as Hajime, not Izuru, though he still retained a good deal of Izuru's skills – the deliciousness of the karaage was a testament to that. They had regained their memories of Neo World. And now, living a life Future Foundation didn't want them to have, they were left wondering what to do next but knowing it absolutely was not going to be a return to doing Junko's wicked work.

After plates were cleared, Fuyuhiko asked, "So who's gonna bring up the elephant in the room?"

"You just did, man," Kazuichi pointed out.

"I know what you're going to ask," Hajime said with a nod. "You want to know if I thought of a way to help our friends."

No one replied, but this confirmed that had indeed been what they all wanted to know.

"I think I came up with something," Hajime said, but then, quickly, before anyone could get excited, "I'm not sure how it helps, though. Do you remember someone named Chiaki Nanami?"

"Chiaki…" Sonia turned the name over in her mouth. "Chiaki…" The memories of Neo World had not all flooded in at once, but gradually, and some pieces were still hazy.

"I get a pretty good vibe off that name," Akane stated.

"I know I know it from somewhere!" Fuyuhiko grunted.

"I'm pretty sure our class didn't have a Chiaki in it," Kazuichi added. "…Did it? I know that name too."

"I think she was added to our group in the program," Hajime explained. "She was an AI."

"Like Junko was?" Sonia asked.

"Sort of," Hajime went on. "She wasn't based on a real person, though. She was made up by…Makoto, I think. She was supposed to make sure we got along and stop us from turning back to despair. I only just remembered her today while I was cooking."

"Oh, CHIAKI!" Kazuichi suddenly cried. "I remember her now! She was cool! I was gonna fix up some old game consoles for her on Electric Avenue! We never did get to play too many games together. I was looking forward to that."

"Now I remember that chick!" Akane realized. "She was just a nice kid. I think everybody loved her. Like, how could you not?"

"I think I know who you're talking about," Fuyuhiko realized. "She got killed in the fifth class trial. It wasn't fucking fair. She should've gotten to live."

"You had a special bond with her," Sonia recalled, "didn't you, Hajime?"

"I…I think I liked her a lot," Hajime admitted. "But the reason I brought her up is that I wonder if she might have contained our memories in her data. Including the memories of our sleeping friends. If we could get those memories back, we might have a chance. There's…one problem, though."

"When she got killed," Fuyuhiko realized, "that erased her, didn't it?"

"I don't know if we can get her back," Hajime sighed. "If we could, then we'd not only have a way to work on our friends' memories. We'd have Chiaki back, too. But she might be gone forever."

Kazuichi let out a loud sigh before asking, "What's even the point?"

"The point is we're trying to save our friends, dumbass!" Fuyuhiko insisted.

But upon having his hopes brought up and then let down again, Kazuichi had been forced to confront a mentality he had been struggling with ever since leaving Neo World. "Maybe there just isn't any hope," he groaned. "Everything we come up with is a dead end. Why do we even bother with anything?"

"Kazuichi…" Sonia said both sympathetically and warningly, knowing what was coming.

"I'm serious," Kazuichi insisted. "You all keep talking about hope, but look at us! We lost all our friends, the government doesn't even want us to fucking exist, we're trapped on this island, it doesn't even matter if we LEAVE the island because things are even MORE fucked up out there than they are here, and we can't take back anything we did to make it that way! Maybe Ju – "

"Don't you FUCKING say it!" Fuyuhiko growled.

"I'm not saying she was right to do what she did," Kazuichi argued. "I'm not saying we were right to do what we did. But maybe Junko was right about despair being all that matters. Because we keep coming back to it."

"BASTARD!" Fuyuhiko cried, slamming both hands on the table and standing up. "DON'T YOU EVER SAY THAT! I DON'T EVER WANT TO HEAR YOU SAY – "

"STOP!" Hajime interrupted. "We're all each other has, so we can't fight over stupid things!"

"It's not STUPID!" Fuyuhiko insisted. "If he keeps talking like that, he'll go right back to how things were!"

"Me?" Kazuichi replied. "How do I know you're not going to go back to how YOU were? You were the one raised in a family of professional killers!"

"How DARE you – "

"ENOUGH!" Sonia barked. "Hajime is right! We cannot fight like this! And we cannot afford to distrust one another! We have to have faith that none of us will return to being a Remnant of Despair!"

Fuyuhiko forced himself to calm down, sitting back in his seat. "Don't use my family against me like that again," he growled.

"Sorry," Kazuichi replied. "I'm just…tired. Tired of living like this and having hope dangled in front of our faces just to have it snatched away."

"What about our memories of the program?" Sonia asked. "What about the fact that we all survived? Is that not hope? Is that not something good that has happened to us?"

"Sonia's right!" Akane insisted. "And we got each other, don't we?"

When it was Sonia who said it, Kazuichi mused, it made sense. "I guess you're right about that." His tone was still despondent.

"We could still all be under Junko's control," Sonia insisted, "or we could all be dead right now! But we are here, and we are together! That is reason enough for me to hope that things will get better! And even if they do not, we should be grateful for what we have!"

"We could live like this if we had to," Fuyuhiko agreed. "It's not so bad. It could be a lot worse."

"At least we're trapped on an island paradise," Akane said with a grin. "Not many people out there can say that."

"We're not going to live here forever," Hajime insisted. "I'm going to figure out a way to get us off this island and into a better life. And I'm going to figure out how to wake up our friends."

"But is there even a better life out there to get to?" Kazuichi asked.

"There has to be," Hajime said sternly. "I know there is. It's the life Makoto is working so hard to make for us and for everyone else. And as long as he works hard, so will I. Can you believe me, Kazuichi? As your friend?" His mouth twitched into a smile as he recalled the pact they had made in Neo World; "How about as your…soul bro?"

"I guess it's hard to argue with 'soul bro,'" Kazuichi relented, finding himself almost smiling. "But you better keep your promise and keep working on it, okay?"

"Why don't you chip in with the work yourself, dumbass?" Fuyuhiko asked.

"Because I don't know what to do," Kazuichi said softly.

After some reflection, Fuyuhiko confessed, "I don't either. I guess I can't really get mad at you for something if I don't even know how to figure it out for myself. But as soon as we figure it out, I'm gonna give it my all. Are you gonna do that with me, or are you gonna leave me hanging?"

Kazuichi looked up to see Fuyuhiko smiling at him. "I'm gonna give it my all," he resolved, flashing Fuyuhiko a smile right back.

"That's the real Kazuichi I know!" Fuyuhiko proclaimed.

But even then, they all knew it was just a sticky plaster put over a gaping wound. Within some time, one of them would find themselves fallen into a state of hopelessness again, seeing their situation as wretched and inescapable. Perhaps it would be Kazuichi. Or perhaps it would be someone else.

But there was no use worrying about that until it happened. Hajime figured the best way to proceed was a change of subject. "I made a treat for everyone today," he announced as he got up from the table and moved to the kitchen.

"A treat?" Akane repeated. "Perfect timing! I'm still hungry!"

"You're always hungry," Kazuichi reminded her.

Hajime returned with the taiyaki, setting the platter down in the middle of the table. Almost immediately, his four friends had grabbed more than their share, heaping their plates high. "Hey, save some for me!" Hajime grumped.

Sonia put back a couple of the cakes for Hajime; Fuyuhiko begrudgingly did so next before stuffing a cake into his mouth.

"You know what gives me hope?" Akane said around a full mouth. "Food like this."

Fuyuhiko said something that wasn't understandable, as he wasn't as skilled at talking with his mouth full as Akane was, but its tone indicated that it was an agreement.

"Is that COCONUT?" Kazuichi identified. "Awwww yeahhh!"

Sonia smiled, quite pleased, as she delicately nibbled her taiyaki.

When the Corridor of Darkness opened up in the dining room, Fuyuhiko nearly choked. "The hell is THAT?" he cried after he swallowed what was in his mouth.

A tall, broad figure entered the room, clothed in a black leather cloak with the hood pulled up over his face. He strode toward the table confidently.

Fuyuhiko was the first to rise. "WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU AND HOW DID YOU GET HERE?" he demanded.

The stranger reached up to pull down his hood, revealing long black hair teased into rows and then bundled into a ponytail. Thick black sideburns bordered the sides of his face. His eyes sparkled with a glee that seemed born of ill intent; their irises were golden yellow.

"Is this where I am to find the Remnants of Despair?" Dilan asked.

By then, all five had stood, though Kazuichi was quick to place himself on the opposite side of the table from Dilan and back against the wall. "Why do you care?" Hajime snapped.

"I seek individuals whose hearts have known extreme Darkness for a great purpose," Dilan explained. "And who knows the Darkness better than those who ended the world?"

"We are not the enders of the world anymore!" Sonia insisted. "We have left that all behind us!"

"Have you, now?" Dilan asked skeptically. "Is there not a part of you that believes despair is the only truth? You have seen horror upon horror with so little hope in sight. Do you truly believe in the Light?"

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about," Akane said, punching the fist of one hand into the palm of another, "but keep on talking about it and I'm gonna put your lights out!"

"A fighting spirit," Dilan observed. "That will serve you well in the Darkness to come."

"What do you WANT from us?" Hajime asked. "Did you seriously just show up to tell us about despair? Did you know Junko?"

"And what's all this Light and Darkness bullshit?" Kazuichi added, still backed up as far away from Dilan as he could get.

"I did not know her," Dilan answered, "but I have seen her effect on this world and the Darkness she has brought here. An entire world, brought to its knees by a teenage girl and her young cohorts. It is exactly what we seek."

"Who's 'we'?" Hajime asked.

"The one who plans to reunite the thirteen Darknesses with the seven Lights and bring a new order to the worlds," Dilan explained. "The one under whose orders I am allowed to truly be one with the Darkness again. I speak of Xehanort."

"What the hell kind of name is that?" Fuyuhiko barked.

"Come join Xehanort's organization," Dilan cajoled, "and you will no longer have to seek hope in a world that does not offer it. You will no longer have to lie to yourself and say that such a weak notion as friendship can overpower despair. All it will require is for you to give up your heart to Xehanort to make his own. It doesn't hurt. In fact, it feels quite freeing, and the knowledge it provides is enlightening."

"No one's going anywhere with you!" Hajime yelled, not sure what could possibly make any sense of Dilan's words other than some sort of mental disorder.

"I had a feeling you would say that, Izuru Kamukura," Dilan replied smugly. "And yet it is you who interests me the most."

He took two steps closer, standing directly before Hajime.

"My name," Hajime insisted, "is HAJIME HINATA!"

He drew back his fist to throw a punch on that word, but Dilan caught it. A rush of wind blew through the dining hall, tossing up everyone's hair; when it subsided, six violet-colored lances with angry sharp points hung suspended in the air, all aimed directly at Hajime.

"HAJIME!" Sonia cried.

"Do not attempt to come closer," Dilan warned, "or these weapons will all make their mark." He shot Akane a knowing glance. "That includes you."

"Dammit!" Akane growled.

"Such a curious case, Izuru," Dilan murmured. "You, more than anyone else, knew what it was like to be a Nobody without giving up your heart. You became a vessel for skills with no capacity for emotion. You practically invited the Darkness in through your front door. Xehanort will take a special interest in you. I can hardly think of anyone more qualified to become his vessel."

Hajime panicked, wide-eyed. Dilan seized the front of his white shirt, drawing the now-struggling Hajime up to meet him at eye level. "If you do not come of your own will," Dilan informed him, "I will take you by force."

"Leave me ALONE!" Hajime cried, squirming harder. He could now feel the points of the lances pressing into his back, just lightly enough not to break the surface.

"We will break you of that attitude, Izuru," Dilan insisted. "In time."

He turned to walk back toward the Corridor, Hajime in hand, the lances pivoting to remain trained on Hajime's body.

Akane twitched, ready to assault Dilan from behind, but Dilan stopped her with a mere word: "I wouldn't, Akane."

Sonia and Fuyuhiko looked to each other, stunned into silence, each hoping the other had a miracle up their sleeve that would save their friend. But neither knew what to do.

Dilan had almost reached the Corridor when he heard a voice suddenly yell, "YOU DON'T WANT HIM! YOU WANT ME!"

Curious, Dilan lowered Hajime to the ground, turning to look for the source of the sound. Sonia, Fuyuhiko, and Akane were just as flabbergasted. By process of elimination, they knew who had to have spoken up. They just never expected him to do so in a moment as desperate as this.

"I said you don't want him," Kazuichi repeated shakingly. "You want me!"

"And why are you more valuable to me than Izuru Kamukura?" Dilan asked.

"Because he doesn't want to go with you," Kazuichi insisted, "but I do! I don't wanna have to deal with figuring out hope and despair anymore! I'm sick and tired of it!"

Though he was repeating his earlier sentiment, it was a lie now. Kazuichi truly, more than anything else, wanted Dilan to let Hajime go and take him instead. Hajime was his friend, his "soul bro," and he knew he couldn't simply stand by and watch him be dragged into some sort of black hole. Furthermore, a small part of Kazuichi had realized that if he could save Hajime, Sonia would more than likely change the way she looked at him, even if she would only see him for mere moments more.

"Besides," Kazuichi continued, "you know about Junko's killing games, right? I built all the machines for the executions used at Hope's Peak! And I built most of the Monokumas that she used to attack people all over the world, including the big one! That's gotta mean a lot of Darkness, right?"

"You must be Kazuichi Soda, in that case," Dilan realized. "I must admit, your offer does intrigue me. The man responsible for the machines that ravaged the world and destroyed the last remnants of Hope's Peak. Yours is indeed a heart that has been steeped in Darkness. And if you are willing to come quietly…"

The lances swirled away from Hajime, coming to rest at Dilan's sides. "I accept your offer," Dilan confirmed.

"Kazuichi, NO!" Sonia cried as Kazuichi limped out from behind the table to stand by Dilan. "You can't go!"

Kazuichi looked back over his shoulder at Sonia. Her eyes were once more filled with those tears he hated so. He wished he could make her smile one last time before he bade her goodbye; it was obvious that wherever Dilan was taking him, there wasn't a good chance he would be coming back. But in the current circumstances, he knew there was no way to bring out the sparkle in her eye. He smiled at her anyway. "This is the best way for it to be," he told her. "I'll be okay."

"NO!" Sonia rushed forth to clutch at his arm –

The lances pointed toward her, keeping her back. "No more interruptions," Dilan said coldly.

Kazuichi stood by Dilan as Hajime returned to the table, where Akane and Fuyuhiko stood protectively before him. "Kazuichi…" Hajime said breathlessly.

"I'm ready to go," Kazuichi told Dilan. "Just get me out of here. I'm done with all this."

Just leave my friends alone, he thought. Just let them be safe.

Dilan gestured toward the portal. "After you."

Kazuichi still couldn't quite grasp the concept of the portal, despite having seen a man appear from it. It seemed like the sort of thing that should only be able to happen in a simulation like Neo World. All the same, he put his best foot forward, which is to say he used his best foot to propel his bad leg into the portal before limping the rest of the way through. Dilan followed him, quite pleased with his work.

The Corridor closed, leaving behind four distraught, heartbroken friends who feared they had just lost one of the few people they had left to care about.


	65. I Would Like to File a Complaint

65\. I Would Like to File a Complaint

Roman Torchwick wasn't about to admit it, but he missed cream cheese on bagels. He'd gone for stretches of months at a time eating that exact thing for breakfast every single day. Peanut butter wasn't the same at all, but he was contenting himself with it. At least he'd been able to find dairy-free bagels with less hassle than he'd expected. The things he'd do when he cared about someone, he thought.

He stole a glance at Snatcher, who sat next to him at the counter of one of the communal kitchens, eating his own bagel with an expression of relative contentment. Bagels weren't exactly a traditional breakfast food where he came from, but breakfasts in Cheesebridge generally required more effort to prepare; the entire town was convinced that every meal had to be some sort of work of art. Snatcher much preferred not to put any effort into breakfast at all. Toasting a bagel and slathering it with peanut butter or the Atmosian sort of fish found in the cans in the pantry (NOT jelly or even jam) was much more preferable.

As the pair crunched away on their bagels, Hans wandered into the room. "Well, hello," he greeted.

"Heyyyyy, Sideburns!" Roman greeted. "What's new?"

"You've had a good morning, I hope?" Snatcher added.

"Yeah," Hans confirmed, "it's been pretty good. I've kinda just been wandering around the place, seeing if I remember where everything is. Though I might be a little lost, because I didn't intend to end up in a kitchen." He shook his head. "Are you eating breakfast here?"

"Yes, Captain Obvious," Roman replied.

"Is there some sort of problem with that?" Snatcher asked.

"We just…we have kitchens in our quarters," Hans pointed out. "Why don't you just eat there?"

"The social aspect," Roman answered.

"We wished to see who might come along," Snatcher clarified, "and if it is anyone worth talking to. For example, this morning, yourself."

"Good point!" Hans said with a smile. "So what's on the agenda? Are we just going to dive right back into the plans for multi-world domination?"

"As much as Lord Mozenrath would love to do so until he was completely running on empty," Snatcher debunked, "we are all taking time to recuperate before deciding on our next endeavor."

"Maybe Righty will actually chill for a couple days now that he has a boyfriend," Roman suggested.

"I'll do my best," Hans laughed. "But at the end of the day, I have no say over what he does. He's not the kind who takes bossing around from anyone. But you knew that."

"Unfortunately, we have learned that the hard way," Snatcher confirmed. "He isn't all bad, however. I daresay you'll find him a fulfilling partner. Not one I'd trade Torchwick for, but a fine match for you."

"Hey, there's only one Archie, and he's mine," Roman added. "You'll just have to settle for third best, Sideburns."

Snatcher swallowed the last of his bagel. "It seems Mrs. Overkill sent a message to my scroll regarding some sort of improvisational theatre troupe she wants to organize, and I'm willing to bet any amount she wants my expertise in leadership doing so. I'd best locate her soon."

"And I have a morning workout routine I've put off for about two hours already," Roman added. "I'll give it another fifteen minutes. But if there's really an improv troupe being set up, I want in, okay?"

"I'm certain Mrs. Overkill has already thought of you and simply needs me for the foundational stages," Snatcher assured him. "And if she had thought to exclude you, I'll set her right immediately."

Before parting ways, Snatcher and Roman exchanged one kiss of moderate length. Snatcher strode out of the kitchen while Roman slowed down the process of eating his bagel in order to procrastinate his workout even further. It wasn't as though he didn't enjoy working up adrenaline while beating up and shooting target dummies, pretending they were various foes he'd collected over the years, but it took a while to work up the motivation for.

"So…" Hans' eyes followed Snatcher out the door before snapping back to Roman. "You and him?"  
"Yup," Roman confirmed.

"As in…you're involved," Hans prodded.

"We are," Roman stated.

"How much are you involved, exactly?"  
"Living together," Roman explained. "Partners in crime on the streets, absolute animals in the sheets."

"What are you getting out of it?" Hans asked, perplexed.

This, in turn, confused Roman. "What am I getting out of it? I mean, I get him. Are you looking for details, or…?"

"Just…" Hans tried to figure out how to phrase it. "You're getting some kind of reward out of the deal, right? Like, he's rich. Or he can get you information."

"Um…no?" Roman replied.

"Come on," Hans urged, dropping all pretense of being diplomatic about the subject. "There has to be a REASON you're doing the ugliest person on the team."

One level below, Mozenrath was casually strolling toward one of the larger libraries – the reading room Irmaplotz had staked out was preferred by many for its small and intimate atmosphere, as well as its selection of trashy fiction, but Mozenrath sought the thick volumes of tactical war history lined up on the taller arched shelves that required ladders to reach. He didn't expect to find anything that would lead him to the next phase of his ongoing quest, but wanted a little heavier reading material than could be found in the small reading room.

His attention was drawn to a thud of considerable volume coming from directly above his head, followed by a cacophony of angry yelling. Mozenrath considered just letting it play out. It wasn't his business. But then came a yell of a more defensive sound, and though he wasn't certain it was Hans, the voice gave him enough pause to wonder. With a resigned sigh, Mozenrath teleported into the kitchen above.

Roman had pinned Hans to the ground and was repeatedly slamming his fist into the auburn-headed prince, sure to leave an array of angry bruises in its wake. "AND YOU DON'T GET OFF UNTIL YOU LEARN TO WATCH YOUR FUCKING MOUTH!" Roman yelled.

"I WOULDN'T HAVE SAID ANYTHING IF I KNEW YOU WERE THIS SENSITIVE!" Hans moaned.

Both were enveloped in auras of blue and forcibly separated from each other, dragged a good ten feet apart to glower at each other. "Not that I want to interrupt such a heartfelt and engaging conversation," Mozenrath said calmly, "but…" He faced Roman, dropping the façade entirely. "WHY WERE YOU BEATING UP MY BOYFRIEND?"

"BECAUSE HE'S AN ASS!" Roman screamed.

"I made ONE comment without thinking!" Hans protested. "And suddenly I'm getting beaten to a pulp? What is WRONG with your friend, Mozenrath?"

"I was wondering the same thing myself," Mozenrath grumbled.

"He had it coming," Roman insisted through gritted teeth.

"What EXACTLY did he say?" Mozenrath asked.

"Well, he – " Roman attempted.

"Look, does it really matter?" Hans asked. "It was a joke. Apparently Roman Torchwick can't take a joke."

"Roman, I know you've been called worse than whatever he said," Mozenrath sighed.

"Me?" Roman replied incredulously. "It wasn't about – he didn't – I want a conference. You and me. Without him lying about his side. I'll give it to you straight-up."

"Do you seriously not trust me that much?" Hans groaned. "Fine. Go have your conference. Tell my boyfriend why I'm just soooooo horrible." He looked to Mozenrath. "If there's anyone you don't want poisoning the truth, it's him."

Mozenrath scowled, at a temporary loss for words. Then, when he found speech, he agreed, "Fine. I'll hear each of you out separately. If it gets whatever's going on out of your system." He let them both drop.

Roman's hand immediately grabbed for his scroll, sending out a mass text. "This is founder business," he muttered. "I am not letting a single one of them go without knowing that you. Are. An. ASS."

"Roman, did you forget who we are?" Mozenrath sighed. "No one here is a nice person. Don't get worked up over a casual insult."

"Aaaaand sent," Roman stated. "I have just filed an official complaint." He looked up at Mozenrath. "I asked everyone to meet in the rendez-vous spot in the basement."

"Why didn't you just summon them to this kitchen?" Mozenrath asked, growing ever more frustrated.

"Because this is an official founder matter, and we need to talk about it in the official founder place!" Roman growled as he stormed out of the room.

Mozenrath looked to Hans, going from frustrated to baffled. "I…don't know why he's throwing a tantrum."

"Look," Hans sighed, "I get it. I made a joke and he didn't take it well. You should talk it over with your friends."

"Hans – " Mozenrath began.

Hans put up a hand as he departed the kitchen. "We'll talk about it later."

Mozenrath stood flabbergasted in the center of the kitchen. "WHAT JUST HAPPENED?" he cried to no one.

...

By the time Mozenrath made it to the basement chamber that had been unofficially declared the conference room, Roman, Snatcher, Mim, Aghoul, Wuya, and Yzma were already there. "All right," Mozenrath sighed to the assembled group. "Someone please tell me WHAT THIS IS ABOUT."

"This is about the fact that you brought home an ass," Roman began. "I should've seen it coming when he tried to make fun of me in Hyrule and make me out to be the useless one. But now he's gone too – "

The door opened as the Huntsman strode in.

"O…kay," Roman said sheepishly. "Forgot you were in the founder group text. But this is fine. I can work with this."

"I hear there is a matter that requires our immediate attention," the Huntsman stated. "I can only presume it is in regards to the spell's final ingredients."

"Actually, no," Roman admitted.

"Then it had better be worth my attention," the Huntsman warned.

"As I was saying," Roman went on, "Righty, you need to put a fucking leash on your boyfriend."

"He apparently made some kind of joke you didn't find humorous," Mozenrath recapitulated.

"Joke?" Roman repeated. "JOKE? You wanna know what he said to me as soon as Archie left the room?"

"Yes," Mozenrath grunted. "I want to know what he said to you. I HAVE WANTED TO KNOW WHAT HE SAID TO YOU FOR THE PAST HALF HOUR."

"He said – " Roman was suddenly hyper-aware of Snatcher listening raptly, and he found himself wondering if this summons had been such a good idea after all. He hadn't fully taken into account that Snatcher would have to hear what Hans had said about him. But he'd come this far. "He wanted to know why I was, and I quote, 'doing the ugliest person on the team.'"

"He said WHAT?" Mim cried immediately.

The Huntsman gave Roman a glare of disbelief before simply turning and storming out of the room to indicate that this was not a matter worthy of his time.

"The nerve of him!" Mim growled. "I can't BELIEVE him!"

"I know, right?" Roman agreed.

"HOW DARE HE IMPLY THAT I'M NOT THE UGLIEST PERSON ON THE TEAM!" Mim screamed. "THAT TITLE BELONGS TO ME! ME ME ME ME ME!" She stomped her feet for good measure to drive home her point.

"…Priorities, Mimsy," Roman sighed. "Get some."

"That's what this is about?" Mozenrath groaned. He could see why Hans had thought it would be a mere joke. But on the other hand, he hadn't missed the fact that Snatcher had been dealing with repressed insecurities since the day Mozenrath had met him, and there was a part of him that couldn't really argue with Roman for defending his lover's honor. He looked to Snatcher to try and read a reaction from his face.

Snatcher looked taken aback, to be sure. Mozenrath couldn't tell just then and there how offended he truly was. Perhaps Roman was more infuriated about his significant other's appearance being insulted than Snatcher himself was. Or perhaps Snatcher was, even in surprising circumstances, a very good actor. "Well?" Mozenrath asked. "Snatcher? What do you have to say about this?"

"I, er…" Snatcher blinked several times, searching for the correct way to proceed. "It isn't as though I hadn't heard similar before, of course. And far be it from me to bad-mouth Lord Mozenrath's companion – "

"Be honest," Mozenrath sighed. "I don't even care."

"Torchwick saved me the trouble of blemishing his pretty face," Snatcher growled, demeanor suddenly rough.

"Look," Wuya groaned, "Roman, we all know you love your boyfriend – "

Roman and Snatcher immediately made noises of discontent at this.

"I am ATTACHED to him," Roman clarified. "I GIVE A SHIT about him. But this is not the L-word."

"Most certainly not," Snatcher added. "I wouldn't be caught dead in such a degrading state as love."

"Good," Mim huffed. "And here I was afraid we'd lost both of you to that dreaded L-word."

"We're getting off topic," Wuya snapped. "What I'm trying to say is that this didn't require a conference."

"Well, I knew Righty wasn't going to punish his own boyfriend for it," Roman explained, "but one of you would."

"I'LL ROAST HIM OVER A SPIT!" Mim confirmed.

"Allow me to light the fire?" Aghoul asked.

"The fire is the most fun part!" Mim told him. "I get to light the fire and no one else!"

"I thought turning the spit was the best part," Aghoul argued. "I'm letting you do that."

"You can chain him to the spit," Mim resolved. "Make it painful."

"Can I use manacles with spikes on the insides?" Aghoul asked.

"NO ONE IS ROASTING HANS ON A SPIT!" Mozenrath raged.

"HE HAS TO PAY FOR HIS CRIMES!" Mim yelled.

"I KNEW Mimsy would be on my side!" Roman said gleefully. "Granted, about entirely the wrong thing, but I'll take it."

"What if you just make him apologize?" Yzma groaned. "To both Snatcher AND Mim. Because I think we all agree he shouldn't have said it." And may the gods help him if he called her old, she thought. "But was this really worth…all of this hullabaloo?"

"No, it was not," Mozenrath huffed, pressing fingers to his temples. "I'll talk to him. I'm sure I can convince him to give Snatcher a formal – "

"WHAT ABOUT ME?" Mim cried.

"Snatcher AND Mim a formal apology," Mozenrath declared. "Then we can all focus on actual business. And Roman, can you save filing official complaints for things that are officially worth complaining about?"

"I make no promises," Roman said sternly.

"And I know that's the best I'm going to get out of you," Mozenrath concluded. "I think we're done here."

...

Hans was reclined on his bed, reading a book, when Mozenrath appeared in his bedroom. Hans was startled only momentarily before shutting the book and flashing Mozenrath a shining smile. "This is a pleasant surprise," he declared.

"Well, you might not find it so pleasant in a minute," Mozenrath stated. "Walk with me."

"Of course, o overlord." Hans slid out of bed, leaving the book propped open, face-down, for him to find his place later.

He hadn't even asked what this was concerning. Mozenrath liked that. As he held the door for Hans to leave his apartment before following, he asked, "Did you actually call Snatcher the ugliest person on the team?"

"I did," Hans confirmed. "And as I said, it was a joke."

"Well, Roman didn't take it that way."

"I kind of figured that out, and I have the bruises to prove it."

Mozenrath stole a glance at Hans' face; his left eye was outlined in shining red, starting to fade to black. "I'll…get you some healing items for that later," Mozenrath declared. "Anyway, Roman took his complaint to everyone else in authority, and we just need you to go through a formality so we can get everything back on track."

"You want me to apologize," Hans realized.

"For purely diplomatic reasons," Mozenrath told him. "Though I will say Snatcher's shortcomings aren't exactly joke material around here. Just food for thought."

"I didn't think he was that sensitive," Hans replied.

"'Sensitive' isn't quite the word," Mozenrath told him. "It's more of a nuance. You'll catch on after spending more time here. Anyway, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can promise you my friends won't make a habit out of punching you in the face, and the sooner we can start planning our next move."

"They mentioned you would keep going until you were running on empty," Hans recalled. "Don't you want to just take some time to relax first?"

"…I suppose I could be persuaded to relax," Mozenrath replied.

"Maybe spend some time getting to know a special someone better?" Hans asked with a wink.

"That depends," Mozenrath asked. "Do you play chess?"

"Occasionally. I haven't found a partner smart enough to match me in years."

"I think I have some good news for you." Mozenrath paused. "Though I was in the middle of a pretty good book – "

"You're not going to stand me up because of a book, are you?" Hans asked with a dramatic pout.

Right, Mozenrath thought. That hadn't been the right thing to say at all. "The book can wait."

"No, don't let me keep you," Hans told him. "I was reading something myself. If you really want to be alone…"

"We can go back to our literary pursuits later," Mozenrath resolved.

"A good plan," Hans confirmed. "I heard whispers that there may be a group meeting up later for improv, and I was thinking of seeing if I couldn't shove my foot in the door. But I remember how much you hate improvising ANYTHING. So you can read while I check that out."

"That sounds like a fair compromise," Mozenrath agreed.

They paused before the doors to the kitchen where the incident had transpired earlier in the day. "Back to the scene of the crime," Hans remarked.

"I thought it would be thematically appropriate," Mozenrath replied before pushing open the door.

They were greeted by the sight of an immense spit that hadn't been there before, empty of meat but still rotating over a conflagration that sprouted right from the floor. Mim cranked the handle, regarding Hans with a wicked grin as Roman and Snatcher hovered over the spit's other end.

"PUT THE SPIT AWAY," Mozenrath commanded.

Hans felt his heart flutter with fear as Mim huffed an "Oh, fine" and made the entire contraption, flames and all, disappear in a shower of sparkles.

"Now," Mozenrath declared, "if we're all ready to be mature adults…"

"Where's the fun in that?" Mim asked.

"I think we all agree mistakes were made," Mozenrath went on. "Hans is ready to admit he made a misstep. Hear him out first. Then, Roman, if you'd like to offer any sort of apology for beating him half to death, we can move forward."

"No, no," Hans sighed. "Roman shouldn't have to apologize. Around here, we get what we deserve, and I slipped up. I want to formally apologize for saying that Archibald Snatcher was the ugliest person on the team."

Roman still glared daggers at Hans, having a strong suspicion the apology was insincere.

Snatcher stepped forward to look Hans directly in the eye. "Your apology is accepted," he said dryly. "I'll have you know I am well aware of my physical appearance. Your insult is simply another thrown atop a pile accumulated over the course of my life, and the more I hear it, the more it ceases to matter. However, since I joined this organization of like-minded individuals, I have finally been able to receive the respect I deserve. And if I may be blunt, Mr. Westergard, if you are going to work under me, you are GOING to give me that respect."

Hans paused a moment before nodding. "I understand clearly."

"Then our business is concluded," Snatcher declared, "and we may resume our – "

"NOW NOT JUST YET!" Mim broke in. "Don't you have anything to say to ME?"

"I'm…glad you're not going to roast me on a spit?" Hans said confusedly.

"What about how I look, hmmmm?" Mim asked. "You've gone and hurt my feelings!"

"I never said anything about how you look," Hans pointed out. Not wanting another incident, he attempted, "Which is, by the way, very ni – "

Mozenrath, Snatcher, and Roman all made frantic motions of drawing their hands across their throats.

"…I…don't understand?" Hans said, aware he'd almost made a fatal misstep.

"Surely you have something complimentary to say to the actual ugliest person on the team," Mozenrath fed him, "who is VERY PROUD OF THAT FACT."

Hans was glad he could at least be honest about this one. "You look like a goblin that got mangled by a bulldog," he told Mim.

"Now I know you're just trying to butter me up," Mim huffed. "But I'll take it."

"If we're all done here," Mozenrath declared, "I have business to attend to. I have to make my quarters presentable for company." Not that his apartment wasn't already immaculate, but it wouldn't hurt to give it a once-over in case there was a glaring flaw that Hans might notice. "Hans, I trust you remember the way to my wing?"

"I…would love to say I did," Hans said sheepishly.

Mozenrath flicked his right wrist, summoning up something he'd drawn earlier and stored in his nightstand drawer – though he didn't want Hans to know he'd been to any such lengths just for his benefit. "This map should direct you to all major landmarks." He held the folded paper out to Hans, who took it gladly.

"That's convenient," Hans remarked.

"I will see you there," Mozenrath concluded. "By the time it takes you to walk there, I'll be finished." He vanished in a surge of sparkling blue.

"Well," Mim said happily, "time to unplug the refrigeration system in the north wing and let all the food spoil!" She disappeared before anyone could protest.

"I'm out of here," Roman said dryly as he made his way to the door.

"As am I," Snatcher agreed, following him.

"Hang on," Hans said suddenly. "Mr. Snatcher, could I just…talk to you alone about one more thing?"

"I don't like this," Roman growled.

"Go, Torchwick," Snatcher bade him. "I can handle myself this time."

"Yeah, well, call me if it goes to shit," Roman said as he took his leave.

Snatcher put his full attention on Hans, who had moved to one of the refrigerators. "What is the meaning of this, Mr. Westergard?" he asked.

"Well, first of all," Hans said, "if you're going to demand respect out of me, then I'm going to have to ask you to use my actual title. 'Prince' or 'Lord Westergard' will do."

"Need I remind you of your place in this organization?" Snatcher told him.

"People get what they deserve around here," Hans replied. "You weren't too quick to argue that when it was about Roman tenderizing my face. But if you want respect from me, you're going to have to give it TO me. And I may not be one of your founding members, but I AM dating your overlord, which I figure goes a long way."

"You'd better not have seduced him merely to gain power among our ranks," Snatcher growled.

"Trust me," Hans said, "he caught my eye from the start. There are plenty of good reasons to be Mozenrath's partner besides power, and I have them. I just really have to question his taste in friends. Do you know what you are?"

"Next time you insult me," Snatcher warned, "it will take more than a mere apology to restore my good faith." Which was slowly draining anyway.

"It's just that I grew up in the political sphere," Hans said, "and I've met so many people like you. You are what we refer to as a 'stuffed shirt.' You're uptight, you have no sense of humor, and you have no idea how to relate to people."

"Relating to people is my specialty, MISTER Westergard," Snatcher seethed.

"Really?" Hans replied. "Because I'm just not seeing it. I see a guy who will sic his boyfriend on anyone who makes the slightest transgression. I see a guy who demands an apology if anyone puts a toe out of line. I see a guy who talks like he swallowed a thesaurus and is in the public eye 24/7. I'm just saying if you really want to gain RESPECT around here, you could learn to lighten up. A lot." He winked. "Just a little friendly advice from teammate to teammate."

Snatcher knew if he didn't leave the room at that moment, there would be another incident. So he simply said "I will keep it in mind" as he made an about-face and headed for the exit.

Hans dove in and out of the fridge in a blink. Snatcher felt something smash against his back, leaving a damp patch. Casting a gaze over his shoulder, he beheld Hans tossing another one of the offending projectiles up and down.

Hans had thrown an egg at him.

On a good day, Snatcher could make his peace with an egg. It could make for a decent breakfast food. But in certain contexts, it only called back to mind the word that had been printed across the box borne by the Trubshaw baby. There was no way Hans could have known the subtext that lay behind an egg. But even so, under the current circumstances, the throwing of an egg was nothing less than a declaration of war.

"Like I said," Hans reiterated, his smile a mile wide, "you need to lighten up!"

"Watch your step, Mr. Westergard," Snatcher hissed before speeding away.

...

Dilan had made Kazuichi change his clothes, which wasn't the biggest thing wrong about the situation, but Kazuichi certainly wasn't happy. He had, over the past few years, been very consistent in wearing a yellow-green jumpsuit that he had come to regard as comforting. (There was the day he'd tried to switch it out for a blue one. It hadn't felt right at all.) He had also been quite attached to wearing his favorite beanie, whose brim he liked to fiddle with when he was thinking.

The garments Dilan had demanded he wear were not reflective of Kazuichi at all. They were simply a thinner version of Dilan's own clothing: black leather pants, boots (the right of which had to be discarded for not accommodating Kazuichi's brace), and cloak, the last adorned with a hood. Only when Kazuichi looked more "presentable" did Dilan begin leading him through a location that Kazuichi was certain was actually Hell. No, there was no fire, nor was there brimstone, but having seen nothing but winding hallways in no colors but silver or white, Kazuichi determined the sight could only be what you would see in eternal damnation.

Dilan did not talk as he led the way. He only barely walked slowly enough that Kazuichi could keep up. Kazuichi realized he would have to be the one to speak up if he wanted any answers. "What is this place?" he asked hoarsely.

"The World That Never Was," Dilan replied, his tone still dripping with viscous smugness.

Kazuichi couldn't imagine an answer that made less sense than what Dilan had just said. "Yeah, but what – "

They had entered a more spacious chamber with a vaulted ceiling showing a level above, with walkways lining the upper walls. There just so happened to be another person dressed in the same black uniform as Dilan and Kazuichi strolling along the upper walkway. When he took notice of the duo, he leapt right over the edge and performed a flip in midair before landing on his feet in front of the pair, startling Kazuichi a good bit and drawing a high-pitched scream out of him. The stranger straightened up, his hood falling back to reveal a face marked by an eyepatch over the right eye and a scar traveling up the left cheek; black-and-silver hair cascaded back behind it in a ponytail. The one eye he had was yellow as Dilan's.

"Yo, Mutton Chops!" Braig greeted, almost laughing. "Found a new recruit? I gotta say, this doesn't look like your description of that Izuru guy."

"This is not Izuru Kamukura," Dilan explained. "His name is Kazuichi Soda. You will recall the killing games I described to you, and their grisly outcomes? He engineered the machines that dealt each fatal blow."

"Riiiiiiiight," Braig said, looking Kazuichi up and down. "Yellow eyes ain't gonna match that hair."

"Yellow eyes?" Kazuichi repeated. "Wha…what the hell is GOING ON HERE?"

"You didn't tell him?" Braig asked mischievously.

"I explained my purpose," Dilan replied.

"No, no, no," Braig said with a shake of his head. "Ya gotta be more straightforward with these newbies. I'm pretty sure your idea of 'explaining' things just sounded like you were talking gibberish. How much do you know, Bubblegum?"

It took Kazuichi a moment to realize Braig was addressing him. "I, uh…I know there's something about Light…and Darkness…and despair? And this guy figured out a way to teleport – "

"Do you even know where you are?" Braig urged.

"He said this was the World That Never Was," Kazuichi replied, "but that doesn't make any goddamn sense!" He pulled up his hood, partly in indignation that Braig had made a nickname out of his hair and partly to have a headpiece to fiddle with anxiously.

Braig gave a chuckle. "You probably don't even know the first thing about the worlds," he realized. "Y'know, as much as I know the old coot would love to give him the lecture, I just gotta see the look on his face."

"Xehanort knows what you know," Dilan reminded him, "and says what you say. The explanation you give will be his."

"Yeah, but I'm gonna make it sound cooler," Braig asserted. "First of all, Bubblegum, you ain't even on the same world you left."

"The same…world?" Kazuichi repeated in disbelief. "There's no way that's true! There's no such thing as other worlds!"

"That's what everyone thinks at first," Braig told him. "That's what I used to think. But boy, was I wrong, and glad for it. There are endless worlds out there, and your world and this world are just grains of sand on a huge ol' beach. I know, I know. You don't believe me. But you're gonna have to get used to the truth, Bubblegum. Okay, second: you don't know what Kingdom Hearts is."

"Is that some kind of RPG?" Kazuichi asked.

"Well, it's complicated," Braig went on. "Some people say it's the heart of all worlds. Some people say it's where hearts are born. Some people say nobody really knows the truth about Kingdom Hearts. What everyone can agree on is that it's powerful stuff. Back in the day, there was a big deal about summoning it, and there was an entire war fought over it. Nasty stuff. Now, our boss, Master Xehanort, wants to bring it back. He basically wants to study it, though the other Xehanorts have different – "

"OTHER XENAHORTS?" Kazuichi cried.

"First of all, it's Xe-ha-nort," Braig corrected. "Second, hold your horses and let me get there, will ya? So our Master Xehanort, he wants to know what'll happen if you bring Kingdom Hearts out to play. We already know it ain't gonna be pretty, and that's the best part. There's also some kinda rumor that anyone who really gets it all the way here will become some kind of god? Now, I'm all for that, but that part just sounds too good to be true. Anyway, in order to bring it out, the old coot needs seven Lights to fight thirteen Darknesses. Those are people, Bubblegum. Seven heroes with shining goody-two-shoes hearts and thirteen bad-to-the-bone villains. We're letting a couple thorns in the side take care of the Light half of it, but the old coot hasn't finished picking out his thirteen yet. He went through a rough draft version, but after realizing most of them were either idiots or traitors, he threw out everyone but me and X Marks the Spot, picked up a couple versions of himself from different points in time, and started over. Mutton Chops was actually part of the first group, and I thought throwing him out was the right move, but he really came around and surprised us."

"Is that your attempt at flattery?" Dilan asked.

"So anyway," Braig went on, "in order to make sure he got it right, Xehanort either made sure the people he picked were versions of himself directly ripped out of time or put his own heart inside the ones that weren't him in order to MAKE them him. I have a Xehanort heart. Mutton Chops has a Xehanort heart. X Marks the Spot has a Xehanort heart. And that's where you come in, Bubblegum. Seems you went and killed a ton of people. That's pretty Dark to me." He reached forward and tapped Kazuichi's chest. "All the old coot has to do is rip out your heart and install an upgrade to make sure you do what he wants. Then he'll have one more down."

"He's…going to transplant my HEART?" Kazuichi cried in utter terror.

"And put himself inside you," Braig confirmed.

"WHAT?" Kazuichi screeched.

"Hey, get your mind out of the gutter!" Braig laughed. "I mean he's going to take over your body and see through your eyes. The bad news is you won't have a thought that he can't read. The good news is you'll get a lot of smarts off his mind. The guy knows things."

"This can't be real!" Kazuichi whimpered. "This is all some kind of…bad fanfiction plot!"

"See, I knew the look on his face would be worth it," Braig said with a wide grin. "Anyway, have fun meeting the old coot. Looking forward to seeing how you do on our team. Just think of it this way: you'll be free of all those pesky rules and morals meant for Light people. You get to do whatever terrible, horrible, nasty things you want. Anyway, I got places to be. Ciao!"

Braig stalked away, laughing to himself.

"WHAT THE HELL?" Kazuichi cried, now all the more certain that Hell was the best way to describe where he was. What Braig said didn't seem to make any sense at all. But if Braig was lying, what was Kazuichi there to do? It certainly seemed believable that anyone willing to kidnap him was willing to perform some kind of twisted heart surgery on him. And then there was the matter of the black hole Kazuichi had walked through to get here. That wasn't anything science could explain. If that were possible, there might be room to think that any of what Braig had just said – the heart transplants, the time travel, the existence of other worlds – was true too.

"My associate may have been telling you all of this in fun in order to get a reaction out of you," Dilan confirmed as he resumed walking, "but rest assured, it is the truth."

"What kind of sick fuck IS this Nort guy?" Kazuichi moaned, refusing to move.

"A brilliant one," Dilan replied, backtracking. "Have you suddenly had second thoughts?"

"I've had second thoughts from the minute I showed up!" Kazuichi blurted – right before remembering the pretense under which he had come.

"So I suspected," Dilan said with a grin. "Your volunteering came at quite the convenient time to spare Izuru. It was an act of far more Light than Darkness. Your lie was paper-thin."

Kazuichi knew he was in trouble now. He tried to back away, but Dilan swept behind him and wrenched his arm halfway up his back, putting him in a solid hold.

"I indulged you not only because your volunteering was more convenient than trying to restrain Izuru," Dilan went on, "but because your heart was still tainted enough by Darkness to serve Xehanort's purpose. Or, as you better understand it, despair."

So that seemed to be the key, Kazuichi realized. Light was hope and Darkness was despair. Whatever sense that made.

Dilan forced him to march forward, declaring, "I had suspected you might change your mind, drop your act, and fight back. That is why I am taking you to the dungeons to wait in a cell until Xehanort can implant his heart within you. I cannot risk you escaping."

Kazuichi was forced down still more hallways, his heart racing so quickly he worried it might actually explode before anyone could get the chance to do anything with it. At last, the dungeons came into view: cells into which the only view was through bars, lining the pale hallway.

"Your stay will not be comfortable," Dilan affirmed.

Once Kazuichi went into one of those cells, he knew, he was never coming back out. Not as the same person he was going in. Adrenaline filled his body as he became desperate enough to try anything in order to avoid entering the cell. He knew his chances weren't good. But he had to try.

Dilan had only one of Kazuichi's arms pinned. Kazuichi took the free one and rammed its elbow hard into Dilan's solar plexus.

He hadn't really expected Dilan to react, but as soon as he was struck, Dilan let out a pained grunt and doubled over, letting go of Kazuichi completely in the process.

For a brief moment, Kazuichi froze, not sure what to do next. Then his mind urged him: don't stand there. Make a move. It might be your only chance to avoid whatever twisted fate the Nort people have for you.

So he spun around, pivoting on his good leg and lifting his bad leg high enough to ram it into Dilan's groin.

This brought Dilan completely to the floor; he curled up in a ball, groaning in agony.

Kazuichi ran. It wasn't a fast run; it was just the best he could do with the legs he had. Dilan, thankfully, stayed down. Not remembering the way to anywhere in this strange structure at all, Kazuichi forged his own path through the silver-white hallways, knowing it was up to him to figure out a way to escape.

Hopefully there was actually somewhere to escape to. If Braig had been right, which Kazuichi still doubted, he had nowhere to go. This wasn't his world, and it would be impossible to return to Jabberwock Island. But Hajime would have told Kazuichi to have hope. So he fostered within his heart the idea that if he just kept going, he would eventually find a safe place to stop.

...

At some point, Roman had found Neo, which was good, because Neo was more than willing to listen to Roman's rants, and she agreed that Hans had done an incredible wrong. She had offered to kill Hans, to which Roman had sighed, "No…Righty would kill both of US if he turned up dead."

Neo just thought that was a real shame. She suggested Roman do something to take his mind off the auburn-headed annoyance.

"Like what?" Roman asked.

Neo mimed wiping down a counter with a rag.

"Cleaning," Roman clarified. "Did you suddenly forget who I am?"

Neo shrugged, and Roman could read the intent behind that shrug: cleaning wasn't enjoyable, but it was an effective distraction. More gestures followed, reminding Roman that he had technically been the last one to use the Gummi ship (along with Snatcher, the Smisses, the Overkills, and Neo herself), and they had left a few items out of place in the cabin that Mozenrath probably wouldn't be pleased to discover later.

"Fine," Roman groaned. "But only because I really, REALLY need a distraction."

A few minutes later, the pair stepped into the Gummi ship cabin to find that the mess was far worse than they'd thought. To be clear, it wasn't only their mess. Several cartons of ice cream had been opened throughout the space, and melting ice cream had been dripped everywhere. The culprit was easily identifiable; Demyx lay sprawled across the pilot's seat, dipping a spoon into a heaping bowl of ice cream and ferrying it straight to his mouth.

"The FUCK?" Roman cried, which startled Demyx into nearly upending the ice cream bowl.

"Hey there!" Demyx greeted.

"Dishwater," Roman growled, "I seem to recall giving you a very specific rule when you joined our ranks. What was it, again?"

"No ice cream," Demyx sighed, "or milk, or cheese, or anything like that. But you never told me why, and it's a STUPID rule."

"Do you mind explaining to me WHERE you got all this ice cream," Roman barked, "and WHY you're eating it in the Gummi ship cabin?"

"Well, I was eating it in the Gummi ship cabin so no one would catch me," Demyx explained. "I thought that would be obvious."

"And it didn't occur to you that at some point, someone would need to DRIVE IT?" Roman shook his head. "Just…tell me where you got it."

"Okay," Demyx began, "you're not gonna believe this part, but I started out looking for a completely different snack. But my fridge and freezer just stopped working for some reason, and I didn't want food poisoning. So I took a little trip around the base and looked in other people's fridges. And I found – "

"OTHER PEOPLE'S FRIDGES?" Roman repeated.

"Yeah," Demyx said casually. "I picked the locks."

"WE HAVE COMMUNAL KITCHENS! YOU COULDN'T HAVE RAIDED ONE OF THOSE?"

"Oh yeahhhhh," Demyx realized. "I totally could've. Glad I didn't, though, because I'm guessing you cleared all the ice cream out of those. I ended up finding a huge stash in one of the fridges in an apartment. I'm not sure whose it was, but whoever it is, they sure like Neapolitan."

Neo gasped as Roman rounded on her.

"NEO!" Roman cried. "Have you been hoarding ICE CREAM on me?"

Neo shot Demyx a dagger-sharp glare, launching into a series of gestures depicting several grisly ways he could die.

"Answer the question, Neo," Roman urged.

With an eyeroll, Neo relented and nodded.

"Listen, giving it up wasn't easy for me either!" Roman insisted. "But I did it! And you know what would happen if you-know-who found out about this!"

He might not eat it, Neo implied.

"A chance I'm not taking," Roman growled.

"This is awkward," Demyx muttered, getting up from his seat and leaving the bowl in his place. "I'm just gonna leave now – "

"Dishwater," Roman said without taking his eyes off Neo, "it might've been Neo's ice cream, but I still like to abide by the 'snitches get stitches' rule. Now get out of here before you end up needing more stitches than Iceman can give you."

Demyx hustled out of the cabin immediately.

Roman sighed heavily, looking around the now completely ice-cream-stained room. "Let's at least talk about this while we clean," he groaned. "I'm just gonna leave my hat outside." Couldn't risk getting dirt or ice cream on that.

Neo nodded. She knew Roman wouldn't stay mad at her. All the same, it might be time to dispose of her secret ice cream stash.

...

Irmaplotz, Scarlet, and Snatcher were just about ready to unveil the concept of the WHAM ARMY Improv Troupe throughout the base. While the former two argued over whether flyers or a mass text would be more effective marketing, the last was assigned looking over the karaoke room to make sure the stage was suitable for the first meeting of the group.

Snatcher couldn't really imagine why it wouldn't be, unless there was a lot of trash left over from the karaoke party. He made his way casually to the room, not expecting to find much.

And definitely not expecting to step into a flooded room.

Water forms squirmed throughout the dancefloor; geysers of water shot up at intervals. Demyx was playing a fast, mellifluous melody up on the stage. Snatcher marched right up to him, shoes sloshing through the water on the floor, and demaned, "WHAT is the meaning of this?"

Demyx plucked a sour note, and all of the forms and fountains fell flat, sending another wave of water rushing over the floor. "Don't scare me like that!" he cried.

"Explain," Snatcher growled. "NOW."

"Well," Demyx told him, "after Roman decided to be a butthead and chase me out of my new hiding place, I figured I could use some time practicing my combat skills. And this room is perfect! Lots of space AND great acoustics!"

"You realize you've flooded it," Snatcher pointed it out.

"Oh yeahhhhh," Demyx said as his eyes traveled over the soaked floor. "My bad."

"Mrs. Overkill, Miss Irmaplotz, and I require the use of this room later today," Snatcher informed Demyx. "It absolutely can't be in this condition."

"That sucks," Demyx remarked, scratching the back of his head.

"Someone," Snatcher asserted, "has to clean up the mess that was made."

"Ooh, yeah, sorry you have to do that," Demyx replied. "That's a LOT of water. I think there's a mop in a closet right outside – "

"NOT. ME," Snatcher growled. "YOU. YOU were the one who made this mess, and I've no doubt that given your skills, YOU will be most efficient at drying out this room."

It was true that Demyx's water power would give him an advantage in drying the room out. Still, it would require spending some time, as well as expending magical energy. "Hey, look!" he cried, pointing over Snatcher's shoulder. "Is that a giraffe?"

With a sigh, Snatcher made an about-face, groaning, "Mr. Snipe, WHEN will you learn to stay away from Miss Yzma's potions – "

There was no giraffe, Snipe or otherwise. Just the sound of light splashing as a pair of feet hustled out of the karaoke room. Snatcher realized Demyx had made an escape, leaving him to contend with the influx of water.

Muttering an irate tirade to himself, Snatcher made for the broom closet Demyx had referenced earlier. It seemed he would have to expend considerable effort making the hall presentable after all.

Demyx, in the meantime, was on the lookout for something new to do, since he couldn't snack on ice cream or practice his water magic. He realized that with everyone acting like a killjoy around him, he was really in the mood for some pranks, and he had a target in mind. After all, while breaking into apartments and looking for treats, he'd easily been able to tell which one belonged to Roman by the presence of the Cudgel leaning against a counter. That gave Demyx an idea.

And when Demyx got back to the Gummi hangar and found Roman's hat lying on a bench outside the ship, that idea was compounded into something that made Demyx snicker just thinking about it.

...

Roman and Neo exited the Gummi ship, dumping the last of the ice cream cartons into a large waste collection unit. "What have we learned?" Roman asked.

No ice cream, Neo replied through gestures. While she and Roman had scrubbed up the last of the stains Demyx had left on the floor, Roman had given her a lengthy lecture she didn't want to have to go through again.

"I know I can count on you," Roman told Neo with a smile.

They walked together toward the bench where Roman had left his hat; the Cudgel had somehow made its way there as well, leaning up against it. Roman was almost certain he hadn't brought the weapon with him to the hangar, but any other explanation for how it had gotten there was escaping him at the moment. "Anyway," he told Neo, "I'd call that a job well done." In a good mood after having purged his frustations from his system via scrubbing, he took the Cudgel into hand and used it to flip the hat into the air, letting the garment land on his head, falling in such a position that it covered his eyes.

It took him a second to realize something was wrong. After all, the edges of the hat's interior certainly shouldn't have squished when they made contact with his head, as though lined with a viscous substance. A substance that, in a miracle of perfect timing, dried just when it made contact. He tugged at the hat's brim only to find it stuck fast in place. "WHAT THE FUCK?" he screamed. "WHO PUT GLUE IN MY HAT?"

Neo began gesturing a denial that it was her before realizing that in his current condition, Roman couldn't see it.

By then, Roman had realized that he also couldn't let go of the Cudgel. "AND MY WEAPON?" he yelled.

That was when the laugh echoed throughout the hangar. Its high pitch was unmistakable.

"DISHWATER!" Roman bellowed as Demyx spilled out of a supply closet. "I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!"

"Not if you can't catch me," Demyx laughed before taking off.

Roman stumbled forward blindly before realizing he was hindered considerably in chasing after his quarry. "NEO!" he cried. "WHICH WAY DID HE GO?"

Neo caught his arm and held him back, and Roman knew what she was concerned about. She found it more important to fix Roman's sticky situation than to chase after revenge immediately.

"Fine," Roman grunted. "I'll get him later."

He took a step forward; Neo followed. "I can handle this, Neo," he insisted.

Neo knew the only way to convince Roman otherwise was to let him learn the hard way. So she let go of his arm.

Roman realized that if he really wanted, he could slip his hand out of his glove and leave that attached to the Cudgel. However, the weapon made an excellent implement for feeling out obstacles in front of him. "We're going back to my place," he declared. "Follow me."

Neo was convinced that Roman wouldn't be able to find his way around with only a cane to stop him from running into walls. But he still wasn't in any place to accept help, so she followed him on what turned out to inevitably be a goose chase.

Roman didn't remember the way to his apartment as well as he thought he did. Instead, he ended up going a different direction entirely, with an unimpressed Neo trailing behind. Pushing a door open, Roman was met with brief confusion when his feet splashed down onto a layer of water. He kept going anyway, which was a horrible decision.

Snatcher had begun the laborious process of mopping up the water Demyx had left behind in the karaoke room, wringing his mop out for about the fortieth time over a large bucket and observing that it hardly looked like any progress had been made at all. He splatted the mop onto the floor for round forty-one, back to the door, and therefore was oblivious to Roman entering the room until the latter had stepped in the bucket, tripped over it, and sent it spilling over the entire room while hitting the floor with an "OW!"

Instinctively, Snatcher began to snap at whoever had ruined all his hard work: "NOW look what you've gone and – " His vision fixed on exactly who had knocked over the bucket, splayed out on the floor. "Torchwick! Are you quite all right?"

"I am NOT all right," Roman growled without moving.

Moving in synchrony, Snatcher picked him up from the left shoulder while Neo hoisted him up from the right, the pair propping Roman in a standing position from either side. As they moved to let go, Roman growled, "Don't. Fine. I cave. I need your help."

"What's happened?" Snatcher asked, moving his free hand to try and shift Roman's hat back into place.

"What happened is my hat is now glued to my face," Roman seethed; Snatcher had just figured that out firsthand. "And my weapon is glued to my glove. Get me back to our place, okay?"

Snatcher and Neo gave each other a nod before stepping forward in unison, slowly so Roman could keep up. "How did this come about?" Snatcher asked, already mentally lining up a list of suspects as to who could have sabotaged Roman.

"Dishwater," Roman growled. "As soon as I get this hat off, he is DEAD."

"Mr. Demyx, was it," Snatcher snarled. "Of course it was. I should've known he'd run off to do something else that would absolutely ruin us!"

"I'm sensing he screwed you over too," Roman realized.

"He flooded the room we've designated for our revelry," Snatcher explained, "and ran off before he could be convinced to take any accountability for the mess."

"One of you," Roman growled, "get my scroll out of my back pocket."

Snatcher left that to Neo; he still wasn't accustomed to the technology, even after all this time.

"Now," Roman went on once Neo had retrieved the device, "open up the group text at the top of my messages. Now send this out: 'PROBLEM. NEED TO DISCUSS. BASEMENT CONFERENCE ROOM.' All caps."

"Filing another complaint, are we?" Snatcher asked as he felt the scroll in his own pocket vibrate from his reception of the text.

"Damn right," Roman huffed.

...

The scroll's jingle went off at the edge of the table where Mozenrath and Hans sat across from each other, engrossed intently by the chess board where they were doing battle.

"You need to get that?" Hans asked.

"I would," Mozenrath sighed, "but I have a strong feeling it's Roman again and it's not as important as he thinks it is. So I'm going to make him wait until we're done here."

"I swear it wasn't me," Hans said defensively but playfully. "I've been right here with you the whole time."

"I'm aware."

They played out the rest of their game. For all Hans' talk of needing a worthy opponent, he was nowhere near as skilled as Mozenrath. "You must be a real strategist," Hans complimented as he deliberated, then set down a knight.

"You could say that," Mozenrath replied, countering. You could also say that moving pieces on a chess board was nothing like manipulating people's actions in real life, when you weren't given time to decide on the best move and the pieces didn't obey your exact orders. But that wasn't the kind of thing you confessed on what was technically your second date.

At last, Mozenrath placed a bishop with a smug smile. "Checkmate," he declared.

"Are you sure about that?" Hans picked up his king, moving it a square to the right –

"I wouldn't," Mozenrath told him. "Look at my queen."

Hans realized Mozenrath had him fenced in after all. "Well," he remarked, "you won after all. I have to say that was the biggest challenge I've had in…actually, I think you were just the biggest challenge I've ever had playing this game. We'll have to do this more often."

"I wouldn't mind that," Mozenrath confessed.

"So," Hans asked, "what do you want as your reward? I'm thinking a kiss would be appropriate. If that's what you want."

Mozenrath hadn't considered it. But now that Hans had brought it up, it sounded appealing. "I'll take that gladly," Mozenrath stated, rising from his chair.

Hans did the same, and the two met on the side of the table. Mozenrath realized this was the first kiss he would share with Hans, but ultimately determined that shouldn't matter. It wasn't as though a first kiss should be in any way intimidating.

All the same, it took them a moment to become situated. Hans wasn't sure how much touch Mozenrath wanted to accompany the gesture, and Mozenrath's instincts didn't tell him to touch Hans, so it was only their lips that met, tentatively and awkwardly. Once they got there, lingering made the position feel more comfortable. Hans was the first to draw away; Mozenrath would have commanded for his lips to remain longer, but he did not want to seem as though he'd fallen victim to what was ultimately a display of affection.

"You better go see what Roman wants," Hans said softly.

Mozenrath swept up the scroll to see that it was, in fact, Roman's scroll that had sent the text. "This better be good," he muttered.

After letting Hans out of his apartment, Mozenrath teleported down to the basement rendez-vous just in time to see the retreating back of the Huntsman storming out of the room, indicating that this situation was not, in fact, deserving of Mozenrath's attention.

"What now?" Mozenrath asked the room at large, already drained.

He then took notice of how the scene was actually unfolding before him. Roman was sitting in a chair that had been conjured, eyes shut as Yzma trimmed black fabric out of his hair with a scissors. A potion she had handy had managed to dissolve the adhesive from his face, but the hair was trickier; in order to completely remove the hat, Yzma had felt it necessary to even out his hair all over and give him a drastically shorter cut. Until Mozenrath had appeared in the room, Wuya, Mim, Aghoul, and Snatcher had been focused on that spectacle.

"We've a nuisance to discuss in the form of Mr. Demyx," Snatcher declared.

At least this time, it was about someone Mozenrath had an actual grievance with. "All right. What did he do?"

"Flooded the room we utilize as a performance space," Snatcher outlined, "refused to do his part in cleaning up the excess water, and decided it would be utterly hilarious to glue Torchwick's hat to his face."

"That explains what's going on here," Mozenrath observed.

"I'm almost done," Yzma announced.

"Why am I not looking forward to this?" Roman asked her.

"I'm just going to start by saying this…was also NOT an issue that required the whole council," Mozenrath declared.

"Next you're going to tell me we can't roast him," Mim groaned.

"I have first dibs on killing him," Roman interrupted.

"NO ONE IS KILLING DEMYX," Mozenrath asserted. "He's certainly more than his fair share of annoying, but he does have his uses, and even I know that would be a diplomatic suicide. I can think of a few ways he can atone without dying, however. Leave his punishment to me."

"You know," Roman relented, "I'll let you have him just because I'm glad you gave a shit this time."

"This begs the question," Aghoul broke in. "When someone DOES do something worthy of capital punishment, can Mim and I be in charge of the execution?"

"We'll see," Mozenrath told him. "Anyway, now that that's settled, I don't want to read another complaint text on my scroll for at least twenty-four hours."

"All right," Yzma declared, "I'm finished." She backed away from Roman.

Roman's eyes tentatively pried open. "I don't suppose anyone has a mirror?"

He noticed that Wuya was poorly hiding a snicker as she conjured a hand mirror and passed it to him. Dreading the sight that awaited him, Roman lifted the mirror, getting a good look at himself.

He immediately let out a cry of anguish. Yzma had removed most of his hair, leaving it cropped close to his head. "What did you DO?" he cried.

"What I had to," Yzma told him, briefly cracking a smile of her own before hiding it.

"It's all GONE!" Roman moaned. "This is…this is…I don't…I hate this so much. I can actually see both of my own eyes! That shouldn't HAPPEN!"

"It's not so bad," Wuya managed with a semi-straight face before losing it and breaking down into laughter.

Roman threw down the mirror so hard, it cracked.

"That's seven years bad luck," Aghoul muttered.

"Great," Roman groaned. "Just great. Laugh it up."

"It's only humorous because it looks so unlike you," Yzma said as she finally set her smile free.

Snatcher cleared his throat; "I actually think it looks rather distinguished on you – "

"NO IT DOESN'T!" Roman cried. "IT LOOKS LIKE SHIT! One of you BETTER have a spell to put it back the way it was."

"Calm down," Yzma told him. "I have plenty of hair-growth potions stored away in my lab. Come with me and – "

Roman had already ditched the chair, shoving it to fall over as he sped out of the room.

"I didn't even get any pictures," Wuya lamented.

Mim held up her scroll proudly; "I did!"

"You're going to send those to me," Wuya commanded.

"All right," Mozenrath announced, "I'm going to go take care of our little Demyx problem."

Without waiting to see what happened next in the unfolding drama of Roman's hair, Mozenrath vanished.

...

He reappeared directly in Demyx's path, causing Demyx to cry out and flinch. "Demyx," Mozenrath began.

"I swear I didn't do it!" Demyx cried.

Mozenrath raised a brow. "You swear you DIDN'T flood our performance room and glue Roman's hat to his head? Because I have a pair of eyewitnesses who say otherwise."

"How could Roman be an eyewitness?" Demyx asked. "He couldn't see anything." He was unable to hide his giggle.

"And that tells me all I need to know," Mozenrath declared.

"All right, all right, so I made a couple messes and I played a few pranks," Demyx admitted. "What about it?"

"Well," Mozenrath informed him, "for disrupting the general peace, you will have to atone. I have a couple options in mind. For one, you could clean up the water in the performance room, scrub out all the bathrooms on that level, fix the refrigeration system in the north wing, and disinfect the kitchens on that level, the one above it, and the one below it."

"I'll take option two," Demyx groaned.

"Fine," Mozenrath told him. "Just remember: you were the one who asked to be suspended upside-down in the laundry room for five hours."

"OPTION ONE!" Demyx backpedaled. "I'LL TAKE OPTION ONE!"

"I hope you have fun with this," Mozenrath told him with a smirk, "because I know I am."

Sulking, Demyx stormed off.

...

Everything had gone dark after the crash.

That was, Stork realized, because he had his eyes squeezed shut in terror. Slowly, he opened them, taking in the sight of the dashboard of the Gummi ship and the front window. The latter had a hairline crack in it.

Stork slowly uncurled from the ball he'd tightened into in the pilot's seat, shakingly standing up and looking back over the rest of the ship to ask, "Is everyone okay?"

There were several groans, some of which were "Yes" or "I'm okay" and some of which were wordless. But as Stork watched Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, Jasmine, Aladdin, Katara, and Riku stand up, he determined that all were not only alive, but surprisingly free of any major injuries. In fact, the interior of the Gummi ship looked more or less intact save a few wrinkles. He owed that to the sturdiness of the ship's hull.

"What happened?" Sora asked, rubbing the back of his head.

"We crashed," Ruby stated.

"Yeah," Riku told her, "I figured that part out."

Stork rustled under the pilot's seat to bring out an emergency toolkit. "Something had to have gone wrong with the engine," he explained. "Hopefully it should just be a quick fix. Though, given the severity of the crash, I highly doubt it will be."

Stork set about removing the panel covering the engine while Sora stepped closer to the front of the ship, getting a better look out the front window. They had landed somewhere dark, though pinpoints of light were visible in the distance. Sora had the faint feeling he had seen something like this somewhere before, but he couldn't quite place where.

Stork wrenched away the panel, getting his first good look at the engine. "Oh," he commented. "This is bad."

"What's wrong?" Katara asked, coming up behind him to look over his shoulder. She had no experience with machines of this caliber, but was still intrigued.

The engine had fallen completely apart. "This…is beyond what I can do," Stork stated. "It looks like the pieces are all here. I think. I hope. Knowing my luck, probably not. Either way, I can't even begin to touch this."

"But you had to have performed maintenance on your old ship," Katara reminded him, "right?"  
"That was a standard crystal-powered Atmosian engine," Stork pointed out. "This is something completely different. I still don't know the underlying principles of how Gummi even works, let alone how to combine it to make an engine. Besides, that's torn apart gooooood. It would take some kind of ultimate mechanic to put that thing back together."

"Well, let's try and call for help." Sora pressed a button on the dashboard to try and activate radio communications, only to be met with static. "Uh…hello?" he said into the void.

"There's no one on the other side of that static," Stork told him. "We must be out of range."

"Or something about this world is blocking our communications," Riku suggested.

"Why would you say that?" Jasmine asked.

"Because I can smell Darkness coming from the world itself," Riku revealed. "It's like when Hyrule was covered in Twilight, but stronger. I've smelled this before, but only in a couple places that I never want to set foot on again."

"We should check the outer hull," Stork decided. "That might tell us if the engine is even worth working on. If the wings are broken, we're definitely doomed." He straightened up and moved toward the door, pausing in the last second before his hand could reach it.

"What's wrong?" Ruby asked.

"Besides literally everything?" Stork replied. "I just don't want to know how bad it is."

"I can go first," Sora volunteered.

"I'll check it out, too," Katara added.

Stork stepped back, letting Sora and Katara approach the door. "We got this," Sora told him with a smile before throwing the door open and stepping out, Katara in tow.

Once the pair had drank in the view, Katara, enticed by the uniqueness of her surroundings, let out a "Wow!" However, this was quickly drowned out by:

"Uh, GUYS?" Sora cried. "We have a problem!"

Everyone quickly spilled out of the ship. Stork's eyes were turned to the hull as he asked, "How bad is it? Is it the wings? It's the wings, isn't it?"  
The wings of the ship, however, were solidly fastened, not even bent. The hull had taken a bit of a beating from the hard landing, but was still functionally aerodynamic to Stork's eye. "Phew," he sighed. "So the only problem is the engine. Which still leaves us very doomed, but…there was a DIFFERENT reason you said there was a problem, wasn't there?"

Riku was the only other one besides Sora to know immediately what was wrong. The ship had crashed in the open square of a big city with tall skyscrapers lit up by neon. The sky overhead was starless, moonless, and black. One landmark in the distance towered over every other, including the highest skyscraper: a castle with silver turrets.

"It's the World That Never Was," Riku identified. "I knew it smelled familiar."

"You told us about this place once," Aladdin recalled. "Didn't Xemnas live here?"

"Both Organization XIIIs used this world as a home," Sora confirmed.

"We've just landed right in Xehanort's back yard," Riku added.

"Oh boy," Ruby commented.

"FROM WHAT YOU'VE SAID ABOUT XEHANORT," Papyrus added, "WE ARE NOT IN A GOOD PLACE."

Stork sat down in place, rocking back and forth. "We're trapped in an evil lair," he muttered. "We are trapped in a worldwide evil lair with no way out!" His breathing became quicker. "We're doomed. This is it. This is the end for us. We survived, only to meet an even worse fate – "

"Hey!" Katara quickly knelt beside him. "It's going to be okay. We'll get through this." She reached, then withdrew her hand; "Can I touch your hand?"

"Go ahead," Stork told her. "It won't make much difference."

Katara grasped Stork's hand, squeezing it lightly. "I know it looks bad," she said, "but we're all together, and we've made it through a lot already. We can pull through this, but first, we all need to be calm."

"You expect me NOT to be scared right now?" Stork moaned.

"I don't expect you not to be scared," Katara said softly. "You can still be afraid. But you need to be able to get on your feet. I'll talk you through it."

"Okay," Stork relented.

"Start by slowing your breathing," Katara encouraged. "I'll count to five, and that should be how long it takes you to breathe in. Ready? One…two…"

Sora, in the meantime, stared up at the silver towers. "I wonder what Xehanort's even doing," he mused.

"Trying to find the rest of the Thirteen Darknesses," Riku answered.

"Well, yeah," Sora replied, "but what do you think he's doing right now? You think he's somewhere up in that castle?"

"Are you going where I think you're going with this?" Riku asked. "Because strangely, I don't feel the need to stop you."

"We could end it all right now," Sora speculated.

"It would be eight against as many as thirteen," Riku reminded him. "Not counting any of the Heartless or Nobodies he could have summoned to guard the way."

"I think we could do it," Sora stated.

"Sora, no." Katara had just coaxed Stork into a standing position, and she now stepped forward, having heard Sora and Riku's conversation on the edge of her perception. "This enemy has been overpowering you for years. I know we're strong, but this Xehanort sounds way stronger. I don't think we can afford that kind of danger. We can't attack Xehanort without regrouping and getting more help. There's obviously a reason you haven't all just marched on this world already."

"I know you want to do what's best," Jasmine agreed, "but I think Katara's right."

"And I am definitely NOT going into that castle," Stork asserted.

"But what else can we do?" Ruby asked. "We're stranded here and we can't go home or even call for help. There might be a way out of this up in that castle, and if we have to fight off Xehanort to get to it, I'm ready."

"I know he has other ships there," Sora confirmed. "And he has to have some kind of radio that can cut through the barrier that's holding ours down."

"I DON'T KNOW ABOUT THIS," Papyrus said gingerly. "IT SOUNDS LIKE YOU WANT TO JUST…END HIM. THAT DOESN'T GO WITH OUR AGREEMENT."

"He's right," Riku realized. "How should we take care of this?"

"We'll figure out a way," Sora affirmed. "We just have to try something! We can't just stand around the ship and talk about how it's not gonna fly!"

"Stealth operation," Stork panted.

"Huh?" Aladdin replied.

"We make it a stealth operation," Stork said hoarsely. "We get in. We don't engage any of the enemy. We find a ship. And we leave."

Sora and Riku exchanged a look. Both still had a deep desire to put a permanent end to Xehanort and save the worlds from his plot. However, with all the arguments brought up by their team, that was ultimately shaping up to be a flawed plan.

"It might be safer that way," Riku admitted.

"Okay," Sora relented. "We'll sneak in."

"You could wait here," Jasmine told Stork. "If you don't want to go near the castle, we could pick you up on our way out."

"You want me to stay here ALONE?" Stork choked.

"Of course not!" Jasmine told him. "I'll wait with you."

"That's better," Stork sighed. "Okay. You all go. But don't forget to come back for us."

"Couldn't if we tried," Aladdin promised.

"All right, everyone!" Sora cried in a loud tone that did not give Stork much faith that he could lead a stealth mission. "Let's go!"

All but Stork and Jasmine took off at a run out of the square and down a street that led in the castle's general direction.

"I'm starting to have second thoughts about this," Stork admitted.

"About if we'll be safe here alone?" Jasmine asked.

"About if they'll be safe there without us," Stork clarified.

He and Jasmine quickly caught up to the group.

"Okay," Sora announced as he reached the end of the street first, turning onto a thicker main road that ran more directly toward the castle. "We just have to remember – "

Before he could announce what it was that his friends were supposed to remember, someone who had been speeding in the parallel direction collided directly with him, and both Sora and the stranger fell to the ground in opposite directions.

"WHOA!" Sora cried as he toppled back.

The stranger, upon hitting the ground, took one look at Sora and launched into a long, loud and very high-pitched scream. He wore a black leather cloak that identified him as somehow connected to Organization XIII, and the hood had been pulled up to obscure his face, but when he and Sora had crashed, his hood had fallen back, exposing his head. Sora didn't recognize him as any known Xehanort associate. His hair was bright pink, spiky at the top of his head and flowing long down to his shoulders, with a tiny braid tied near his left eye. His eyes were a matching shade – albeit due to colored contacts, just as the hair was the result of liberal dye use, though Sora had no way of knowing that. Finally, through the stranger's screaming mouth, Sora glimpsed a row of pointed-sharp teeth.

As the stranger began to crawl back away from Sora, still screaming and somewhat impaired by the fact that one of his legs, encased in a complex metal brace, didn't seem to be in fully functioning order, Riku drew his sword and pointed it down protectively, suspecting a potential threat. Within minutes, Ruby had Crescent Rose unsheathed; Stork, Aladdin, and Jasmine had struck defensive poses; Papyrus was surrounded in a circle of rotating bones; and Katara had a stream of water circling her hand, awaiting direction. "Who are you?" Riku demanded.

"NO!" the stranger cried. "I DON'T WANT HEART SURGERY!"

As Sora slowly stood, he remarked, "This guy looks way more scared than he does scary."

"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!" the stranger cried. "I DON'T WANT ANYTHING TO DO WITH YOU NORT PEOPLE!"

"HE REALLY IS JUST AFRAID," Papyrus realized, dispelling the bones that surrounded him. He approached the stranger gently, bending down to offer his hand. "HERE. I'LL HELP YOU UP – "

"Papyrus, don't!" Riku warned. "He's dressed like one of the Organization!"

"Talking…skeleton…" the stranger panted before screaming, "WHAT THE FUUUUUUUCK! I JUST WANT OUT OF HERE!"

As Papyrus tried to explain to "FEAR NOT, FOR I AM A FRIENDLY TALKING SKELETON!", the stranger had scrambled up to his feet, only to stumble, accidentally putting too much weight on the wrong leg before falling again, this time on his hands and knees, the former of which became quite scraped against the street.

"This one could give Demyx a run for his money for being pathetic," Riku observed.

"What was that you said about 'Nort people'?" Jasmine asked, stepping closer to the stranger.

"You should know!" the stranger whimpered, crawling off on hands and knees. "You're all the Nort people!"

"If you're talking about who I think you're talking about," Sora stated, "we're not the Nort people. We're actually the enemies of the Nort people."

"Technically, they're our enemies," Stork clarified. "Saying we're their enemies implies we actually stand a chance against them."

The stranger paused then, feeling his thudding heart throughout his entire body. He wasn't inclined to trust just anyone. But at the moment, he was incredibly desperate. Rolling back over into a sitting position, he asked meekly, "Who are you people?"

"Well, I'm Sora," Sora introduced.

"HE DOESN'T MEAN OUR NAMES!" Papyrus admonished. "HE WANTS TO KNOW WHAT KIND OF PEOPLE WE ARE! AND THE ANSWER IS…WE ARE HEROES!"

"H…how do I know I can trust you saying that?" the stranger whimpered.

"You don't," Stork said dryly. "You just have to roll with it and hope it pans out. Like I did."

"You didn't come here because you wanted to, did you?" Jasmine asked.

"No!" the stranger spat. "Fuck no! A weird guy with yellow eyes just showed up in our dining room and said he was going to take Hajime away, so I volunteered to go instead so he'd leave Hajime alone! But then this other guy with just ONE yellow eye told me all these weird things about what was gonna happen to me, and I can't stick around! I have to get outta here!"

"Hajime must be one of your friends," Sora realized.

"He's my BEST friend," the stranger clarified. "But what's it to you?"

"So Xehanort took you," Riku reiterated, "and you were trying to get away from him."

"I think we had it all wrong about this guy," Aladdin said as he relaxed. "He just wants to get out of here."

"I do," the stranger affirmed. "Listen, I don't know who you are, but you just might be my only shot. Can you get me away from this hellhole?"

"I wish we could," Katara answered, "but our ship's engine is broken, and it won't fly. So we're stuck here unless we come up with a better plan, and right now, our only plan is infiltrating the castle and stealing another ship from the…'Nort people.'"

"Wait," the stranger said, suddenly much calmer. "Did you say your ship's engine was broken? Because I can do something about that!"

"You say that now," Stork replied, "but you haven't seen the state of our ship's engine. It would take some kind of ultimate mechanic."

The stranger had by that time gotten to his feet: a little wobbly, but slightly less panicked. "Then I'm your guy!" he announced. "I'm the Ultimate Mechanic! I can fix your ship, and you can get me out of here!"

"It's a deal!" Sora agreed.

"Sora!" Stork snapped. "Exactly HOW do you know we aren't playing right into Xehanort's hands? Don't you think it's plausible he would send somebody to pretend he needed our help, then turn around and stab us in the back?"

"ARE YOU SUGGESTING WE JUST LEAVE HIM HERE?" Papyrus asked indignantly.

"That is EXACTLY what I am suggesting!" Stork emphasized.

"HOW COULD YOU?" Papyrus scolded. "IF YOU'RE WRONG, YOU'D JUST BE LEAVING AN INNOCENT PERSON TO WHAT MIGHT BE AN INDESCRIBABLY TERRIBLE FATE!"

"If it's between risking being betrayed and saving someone who needs our help," Jasmine added, "I'm not taking the chance of leaving him behind all alone."

"Riku?" Sora looked to his partner. "What do you think?"

"I can't tell if he's with the Darkness or not," Riku stated. "This world is clouding my senses. And even if he was…so was I, and I still needed to be saved."

"Please!" the stranger moaned. "I'm begging you! Take me with you!"

"I'm going to be completely overruled here, aren't I?" Stork groaned.

"Yyyyyyyup," Ruby confirmed as she packed her scythe away.

"You all better not turn out to be a gang of serial killers," the stranger accused.

"We're definitely not that," Sora stated, putting out his right hand. "Like I said, I'm Sora. What's your name?"

The stranger's right hand clasped his own. "Kazuichi Soda!" he introduced with a toothy grin.

"Let's head back to the ship!" Sora declared, turning to bolt back down the street.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Kazuichi yelled after him. "Slow down! I can't exactly…y'know…run." He did follow Sora at what passed for his top speed, his bad leg holding him back.

"WE'LL WALK MORE SLOWLY," Papyrus declared.

Sora skidded back into the group. "Sorry about that," he said sheepishly. "Slowly it is."

"Man," Kazuichi remarked as the group moved back toward the ship, "I got told all sorts of stuff today that didn't make any sense, but looking at all of you, I'm starting to believe it. The talking skeleton is what sold it. No offense."

"NONE TAKEN!" Papyrus replied pleasantly.

"Then I'm guessing this…" Kazuichi paused, not wanting to hear the truth but knowing he had to. "…isn't really Earth."

"Nope," Sora told him. "It's the World That Never Was."

"And there are more worlds out there than just the two," Kazuichi extrapolated.

"We're all from different worlds ourselves," Sora explained. "Well, Riku and I came from the same world, and Aladdin and Jasmine are from the same world, but otherwise, they're all different!"

"I'M FROM AN EARTH!" Papyrus declared. "BUT AS MY FAME AS WELL AS THAT OF MY FRIENDS HAS RECENTLY BECOME WELL-KNOWN ON MY WORLD, AND YOU HAVE NOT HEARD OF ME, I CAN ONLY CONCLUDE THAT YOUR EARTH IS NOT MY EARTH."

"Now there's more than one EARTH?" Kazuichi groaned. "This just keeps getting more complicated by the minute! Was your Earth blown up to shit by a teenage megalomaniac and her cult?"

"UM…I'M GOING TO HAVE TO SAY NO," Papyrus answered.

"Definitely not my Earth," Kazuichi confirmed, finally starting to settle into the idea that existence had far more surprises in it than he gave it credit for. It still wasn't by any means a comfortable idea. But it was becoming believable.

Then he caught sight of the Gummi ship, and he gasped, bedazzled. "It's like a tiny rocket ship!" he squealed. "I've always WANTED to work on a rocket ship!"

"You've never seen a Gummi ship before, have you?" Stork asked with suspicion.

"No!" Kazuichi replied, still breathtaken. "It's so beautiful! I think I'm in love with it already!"

"You have no idea how it works," Stork reiterated.

"I'll figure it out!" Kazuichi asserted. "I AM the Ultimate Mechanic, after all!"

As he boarded the ship, Stork gestured to the panel where the engine lay disassembled with the toolkit before it. "If you think you can do anything with this," Stork told him, "be my guest."

"I've never seen anything like this before," Kazuichi gasped, eyes sparkling.

Stork rolled his eyes. "I knew it. You don't ACTUALLY know how to fix it."

"Hey, hey, hey!" Kazuichi snapped. "I never said that! I can fix plenty of things I've never seen before!"

"You don't even understand how Gummi works!" Stork accused.

"No," Kazuichi asserted, "but I'm gonna find out!" He took up a screwdriver, diving right into the mess. "ENGINES REVVING!"

"So, uh…" Ruby asked tentatively, "how do you know enough about machines to work on something you've never seen before?"

"I used to take stuff apart all the time as a kid," Kazuichi answered, speaking loudly to compensate for the fact that he was buried in his work on the engine. "It was practically all I ever did. Then my dad got me working in his bike shop when I was real young, and I got more practice. I did have a way easier time taking things apart than putting them back together, though…"

"Because THAT'S what you want to hear from the person who all your lives are staked on!" Stork cried.

"But only with things that weren't vehicles!" Kazuichi insisted. "I've never had trouble with vehicles! In fact, sometimes I would turn things that weren't vehicles into vehicles by accident!"

"How does that even work?" Ruby wondered.

"When you've got Ultimate Mechanic skill!" Kazuichi boasted.

"You'd think actual Ultimate Mechanic skill would be taking apart a toaster without turning it into an X-wing bike," Stork muttered.

"What was that?" Kazuichi asked.

"Just another snarky comment," Stork said more loudly.

"You should be nicer to me, y'know!" Kazuichi insisted. "I'm fixing your ship and everything!" Then, in a lower tone, "So that connects to THAT. Now it makes sense!"

"We never did say thank you," Katara realized. "So I'll say it: thank you for fixing our ship. If this works, we won't have to risk our lives sneaking into Xehanort's castle."

"It's gonna work!" Kazuichi insisted. "What, you think I'm gonna half-ass this?"

"Um…just one request," Katara said meekly. "Could you maybe…tone down the swearing a little bit? Some people here are kind of young and innocent – "

"You mean me, don't you?" Ruby interrupted. "You know I'm older than you, right?"

"Well, yes," Katara admitted, "but…"

"I've heard swear words before!" Ruby insisted. "I've heard plenty of swear words! You don't grow up with my dad, my uncle, and my sister without learning a lot of grown-up concepts."

"Well, I guess the swearing is fine, then," Katara relented.

"And that's not even getting into what I read out of the books I borrowed from Blake – " Ruby attempted to go on.

"I don't think we want to know what you learned from those," Riku broke in.

Kazuichi squirmed out from his workspace behind the panel. "That should work now," he announced.

"Already?" Stork said in disbelief.

Reveling in getting to do the cliché, Kazuichi tapped the dashboard twice with a wrench. Immediately, the Gummi ship purred to life.

Stork's jaw would have hit the floor if it hadn't been attached to his face.

"Heh," Kazuichi chuckled, his sharp teeth exposed in a proud smile. "You didn't think I could do it, did you?"

"KAZUICHI, YOU DID IT!" Ruby, forgetting for a moment the etiquette of how to act around someone you only just met, dropped to her knees and hugged him tightly.

"Hey!" Kazuichi barked. "Get off me!"

Ruby let go with a shrug.

"I KNOW WE HAVEN'T KNOWN YOU FOR VERY LONG," Papyrus told Kazuichi, "BUT YOU SEEM LIKE A VERY COOL GUY!"

"That's me!" Kazuichi said with a smile, thinking about all of the people he had known who would argue the opposite and deciding not to bring them up.

"I still don't buy that he's on the up-and-up," Stork groaned, "buuuuuuut I guess it is better than just leaving an innocent person in Xehanort-land."

"Hey, you still haven't convinced me you're not some kind of organized crime ring with all those fancy weapons!" Kazuichi replied. "But I'd rather take my chances with you than wait around for some guy to…" He realized it probably wasn't even as simple as heart surgery. "…Do whatever it was he was going to do to my heart."

"Now we can take you back to Radiant Garden!" Sora cried as Kazuichi screwed the panel back in place over the engine. "You're gonna love it there!"

"If you like castles and big cities, that is," Katara clarified. "But not like the one we're already in!"

"Just get me as far away from the Nort people as possible," Kazuichi pleaded.

Stork zipped into the pilot's seat, gripping the helm. "I'm not wasting another second here," he insisted.

As the ship began to rise into the air, Kazuichi felt a familiarly disgusting sensation building up in his stomach. "How…long is this flight?" he asked nervously.

"Not that long," Sora promised. "We should be there in…less than half an hour."

"This might be the wrong time to tell you…" Kazuichi said softly.

"What's wrong?" Sora asked.

"I, uh…I kinda…"

The ship built up speed, rocketing away from the World That Never Was. Kazuichi dropped to his knees, clamping both hands over his mouth to keep from retching up half-digested taiyaki all over the Gummi ship floor.

"I'm getting Jaune flashbacks," Ruby said casually.

"Just try not to throw up on anything that would be hard to clean," Stork advised. "Because I'm not slowing down."

Readying himself for half an hour of pure motion-sick agony, Kazuichi lay back on the floor and stared straight up at the ceiling.

...

The turnout for the improv troupe's first meeting wasn't ideal, but by WHAM ARMY standards, it wasn't bad, either. Scarlet had been willing to put off said meeting for a couple hours in order for Demyx to finish drying out the venue and Roman to get his hair grown to exactly the right length. When she could finally get the group together, Herb, Irmaplotz, Roman, Snatcher, and Hans all assembled for her. Demyx slunk in at the last minute, dropping his punishment chores for a brief recess.

"All right, everyone," Scarlet said from atop the stage, "glad you're all here! This marks the first meeting and hopefully not the last one of the WHAM ARMY improv troupe. I'd explain it, but I'm pretty sure you all know how the concept of improv works. You're theatre people. You get it. So, anyway, our first game is going to be a personal favorite of Irmaplotz's." She gestured to where a bowl had been placed upon one of the stereo speakers on the stage. "We'll start with four people. One of you is going to be the host of a party – "

"ME!" Irmaplotz's hand shot into the air. "Me! Pick me!"

"…Irmaplotz is going to be the host of a party," Scarlet continued, "and three of you are going to be guests at that party. But you're not going as yourselves; you each pick labels out of the bowl that tell you who or what you're supposed to be, or how you're supposed to act. I threw some surprises into that bowl for our first round. Irmaplotz's job is to guess what your deal is. You have to get her to guess without saying outright what your deal is. Anyway…"

Demyx's hand shot up into the air.

"You, volunteering to do something that involves actual effort?" Roman snorted.

"This isn't work," Demyx clarified. "It's a PERFORMANCE."

"I'm up," Herb stated, raising his hand as well.

Hans beat everyone else to the punch in throwing up his hand. "I'll give this a shot."

"All right!" Scarlet gestured to the bowl. "Actors, pick your labels! Irmaplotz, the floor is yours!"

Irmaplotz strode up to center stage while Herb, Hans, and Demyx plucked labels out of the bowl. Herb just nodded and said "Nice" once he read his. Hans' eyes widened as he looked his over. Demyx placed a hand over his mouth to hide a giggle upon his revelation.

As per custom of the game, Herb was the first to pretend to knock on the invisible door, and Irmaplotz opened it with a greeting of "Hey! So glad you could come to my party!"

"I almost didn't come," Herb said in a posh voice, "but then I realized it wouldn't be a complete waste of my time and talent. I am, of course, very talented." As he stepped onstage, he mimed playing a quick solo on an air violin.

Irmaplotz had a guess of who he was supposed to be, but she decided to wait it out. Hans was the next to knock on the imaginary door, and Irmaplotz was all too happy to throw it open, greeting, "Hi! Did you – "

"I've no time for pleasantries, MISSSSSSSS Irmaplotz!" Hans bellowed in a thick British accent.

In retrospect, Scarlet pinpointed this as the moment where she should have called off the game.

Hans literally shoved Irmaplotz aside while stomping across the stage, proclaiming, "I won't have my good name sullied by DISRESPECT at this party! You there!" He pointed to Herb. "You were disrespecting my good name!"

"I was just laying down a rad solo on the violin," Herb argued. "I mean, uh, playing a masterpiece composition to strike fear into the hearts of my enemies."

"DISRESPECT!" Hans insisted. "I've already suffered far too many indignities! I declare there shouldn't be a party at all, and I always get my way!"

Demyx, excited to get his piece in, waved his fist excitedly over the imaginary door. Irmaplotz, as usual, played the charming hostess: "Hi there. Glad you could come – "

Demyx tripped himself and fell on the floor. "Darn it!" he muttered. "That wouldn't have happened if I wasn't such a clumsy trigger-happy idiot! Oh, well. I'll just blow something up later and call it even." He got to his feet, dusting himself off. "So. Did anybody order another killjoy?"

Scarlet, looking back, knew this had been her second big opportunity to avoid disaster, and she had blown it.

"I am already killing the joy of this so-called party, MISTERRRRR," Hans declared, "and I am doing so very well on my own."

"Yeah, well, if you're who I think you are, I'm pretty sure incompetence and senseless pyromania should be your turn-ons," Demyx continued. "We could totally kill everyone's buzz together."

Herb was oblivious. "Princess Irmaplotz," he said in a dignified manner, "is there anywhere I might practice my archery?"

"Um – " Irmaplotz began.

"Now I know who you are!" Hans remarked to Demyx. "I didn't recognize you without that awful hat."

"My hat's gone?" Demyx waved his hand over his head. "What the frickeldy-frack? I love that hat more than I could ever love a human being! Could I borrow yours?"

"My hat is FAAAAAR too dignified for the likes of you to wear," Hans declared. "In fact, there isn't a piece of clothing I have on that is fit for another person to wear, though I'm not certain if that's because of the dignity or because of how few times I've actually washed anything I wear."

"You do smell like a garbage truck," Demyx agreed.

"And proud of it," Hans affirmed. "Meanwhile, you smell of alcohol, ash, and bad decisions."

"Oh, I'm MADE of bad decisions," Demyx stated. "It's the only decision I know how to make."

"Um," Irmaplotz broke in, "I think Herb is Ravess – "

"THAT'S IT!" Roman stamped his foot as he and Snatcher rose in unison. "YOU THINK I DON'T SEE WHAT YOU'RE DOING?"

"They're onto us," Demyx observed.

"I seriously thought it would take them longer," Hans replied. "You know, since the bulbs aren't exactly shining in their lighthouses."

"ARE YOU CALLING US UNINTELLIGENT?" Snatcher roared.

"Aaaaand point proven," Hans said with a chuckle.

"I WILL NOT TAKE SUCH SLANDER FROM THE LIKES OF YOU!" Snatcher bellowed. "TORCHWICK AND I ARE FOUNDERS HERE! WE ARE THE AUTHORITY! YOU TWO ARE MERE STOOGES WHOSE RANK PLACES THEM LOWER THAN THE TOPSOIL! YOU HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO RIGHT TO PORTRAY TORCHWICK OR MYSELF AS UTTER BLOWHARDS AND IMBECILES! WERE IT NOT FOR YOUR RELATIONSHIP TO LORD MOZENRATH, MR. WESTERGARD, I COULD HAVE YOU THROWN OUT WITH A MERE WORD! MR. DEMYX IS NOT SO LUCKY!"

"Oh, so now I'm going to be thrown out?" Demyx countered. "Do it. I dare you."

"No, no," Hans told him, "now we stand our ground on principle. I said it before and I'll say it again: you are a stuffed shirt, Archibald."

"YOU WILL ADDRESS ME AS – " Snatcher attempted.

"As whatever I want, ARCHIBALD," Hans interrupted. "And I drew your name out of that bowl, so I was giving the best performance I knew how to give. You really don't have much to work with. Though now I guess I can add a hair-trigger temper, a lack of an indoor voice, and dealing with problems by threatening them away to the list. I thought you were supposed to be the silver-tongued manipulator around here or something. And you're trying to get your way by yelling at me?"

"SHUT. THE FUCK. UP," Roman broke in. "YOU TWO HAVE BEEN OUT FOR OUR BLOOD SINCE DAY ONE!"

"Only because it's fun," Demyx jeered.

"FUN?" Roman repeated. "YOU THINK THIS IS FUN? YOU'RE MAKING ME LOOK LIKE AN IDIOT! AND I DON'T SAY 'FRICKELDY-FRACK'!"

"WHY, I OUGHT TO – " Snatcher began.

"YOUR ASS IS – " Roman said at the same time.

"YOU DON'T KNOW THE FIRST THING – " Hans chimed in.

"I SWEAR TO KINGDOM HEARTS – " Demyx piped up.

Then all four were yelling at each other, two versus two, no one stopping his own rant to hear the others' words.

"This is the last time I put other members' names in the bowl," Scarlet moaned to Herb, who let her lean on him sympathetically.

...

Mozenrath knew when he got the next vaguely worded text that it was going to be another petty complaint. "I don't even want to hear it," he said once he materialized in the basement conference room. "Just tell me if it was Hans or Demyx."

"It was both," Roman and Snatcher seethed at the same time.

"This is beginning to get tiresome," Yzma groaned.

"You made us get out of the bath for this?" Wuya growled.

"Wait a minute," Roman realized. "'Us'? Did you two – "

"Yes," Yzma replied. "And we'd appreciate it if you would let us get back to actually having a relationship."

"I wouldn't mind if Mozenrath would actually let me roast someone on the spit," Mim huffed.

Aghoul patted her shoulder sympathetically. "I don't think it's going to happen, Corpseflower."

"Might we at LEAST have Mr. Demyx expelled from our ranks?" Snatcher asked.

"I already told you no," Mozenrath stated.

"No, what you said was not to KILL him," Roman recalled. "You never said we couldn't kick him out."

"He's the only water healer we have," Mozenrath argued. "Vexen's work is ultimately of better quality, but it's not exactly portable."

"But I…er…" Snatcher found himself unable to meet Mozenrath's gaze head-on. "I rather…threatened Mr. Demyx with expulsion…and implied that Mr. Westergard would get the same treatment if he weren't involved with you…"

Mozenrath closed his eyes, pressing his fingers to his temples. "I am going to figure out a way to solve this problem once and for all," he growled, mostly to himself. "And when I do, this better be the last I hear of any of this." He then vanished.

"He's going to end up kicking Dishwater and Sideburns out," Roman questioned, "right? I mean, that's the ONLY permanent solution here."

"Or," Aghoul suggested, creeping up behind Roman and Snatcher and reaching up to suddenly seize one shoulder of each, "he's planning to terminate both of YOU."

"Don't…" Roman seethed, "do…that."

"But one does wonder what sort of solution he has in mind," Snatcher pondered.

"It's gonna work out in our favor," Roman insisted.

"I'm not so certain," Snatcher muttered.


	66. The Get-Along Mission

66\. The Get-Along Mission

When Roman and Snatcher returned to their quarters, it was with heavy frustrations. "You do realized there's a good chance he WILL side with his paramour," Snatcher brought up.

"Who he's known for less than a week!" Roman argued. "We have a history! We were there for him when he forgot who he was, and we started my personal record of biggest barfight together!"

"How many barfights did you incite before then?" Snatcher asked out of curiosity.

"More than I can actually remember," Roman admitted, "though drinking myself stupid might be part of why I don't have an accurate count. I still to this day cannot remember exactly HOW the one at Junior's went down. I know I was there, and I know one minute, everything was fine, and the next, there were bullets flying and most of the club got beaten half to death, but I have no actual recollection of how we got from point A to point B. It didn't qualify anywhere near my record, though, so I didn't really care. Anyway, the POINT."

"The point is if Lord Mozenrath doesn't put a leash on those two, our lives are going to become significantly more difficult," Snatcher grumbled.

"You know the worst part of it?" Roman prompted.

"The fact that after both Misters Westergard and Demyx crossed us on separate occasions," Snatcher guessed, "they somehow got of a mind to team up?"

"YES!" Roman groaned. "And now they're going to buddy up all the time because they know they have each other's back."

"Well, until Mr. Demyx makes a mess of Mr. Westergard's personal space," Snatcher brought up.

"Or until Sideburns lets some passive-aggressive comment slip about Dishwater's stupid hair," Roman added. "Oh. Speaking of hair. You might want to see this."

He removed his scroll from his pocket, flipping through its stored images. "So it took a couple tries with Yzma's whole hair-growth potion to restore the natural order," he explained. "At one point, we ended up with this. Which wasn't what I was going for, but it wasn't bad, so I got a couple shots for posterity."

He passed the scroll to Snatcher, who found himself viewing a small digital image of Roman sporting a ponytail that ended down past his shoulders. "Not a bad look either," Snatcher commented. "Though…" He looked up to meet Roman's gaze. "It does only seem right that your hair's returned to its original state. It simply seems more reflective of…well, you." He brushed a hand through the soft orange hair that was the subject of discussion.

"At least THAT'S back to normal," Roman sighed. "Too bad in place of bad hair, I now have a splitting headache, probably caused by proximity to MORONS."

"How I know the feeling," Snatcher replied. "Dealing with an entire town of complete imbeciles gave me an utter plethora of headaches. Fortunately for you, I know how to relieve some of that pain."

"Look," Roman sighed, "on any other day, I wouldn't say no, but I'm really not in the mood for – "

"I didn't mean it as a double entendre," Snatcher clarified. "Though you may want to lie on the bed anyhow."

"Okaaaaaay," Roman replied, baffled. "Gonna trust you on this one."

They proceeded into the bedroom, where Roman lay back on the bed, stretching out to make himself as comfortable as he could despite the throbbing in his forehead. Snatcher gently sat down on the bed's edge beside him, angled to have the best access to Roman's face. "This should see results," Snatcher declared as he leaned in, gently pressing the pad of one pointer finger to each of Roman's temples and beginning to rub slow circles.

"Okay, that feels better already," Roman said breathily.

"Just give it a moment," Snatcher told him as he gradually moved his fingers upward, still making circles but tracing an arc up to Roman's forehead and across, meeting both fingers between his dark eyebrows.

Roman's eyes instinctively shut during the process. "Shit," he muttered after some time. "That's good. Where did you learn to do this?"

"Trial and error on myself," Snatcher answered. "As I mentioned, I was almost constantly plagued with headaches brought on by association with utter idiocy. I was forced to learn how to cure them or have that heaped upon my already substantial collection of complaints."

Roman let out a quiet but long moan. "That is seriously so much better…hey, Archie…what Sideburns said about you…you know I don't buy into that, right?"

"I am aware," Snatcher told him with a slight smile he was well aware Roman couldn't see.

"Seriously," Roman insisted. "You're just…SO hot."

"Perhaps through a subjective lens," Snatcher agreed. "Objectively, we both know better."

"But you – "

"And yet you are aware of what is absolutely not subjective in any way?"

"I'll bite."

"You're quite competent," Snatcher told Roman, "and those who've overlooked your contributions are simply not paying attention. Now, don't speak. I need you not to move that mouth of yours for what's next."

Roman reluctantly complied, silencing himself as Snatcher located the muscles of his jaw on either side and gently massaged them.

Once Snatcher had finished his work, Roman found his head much clearer and free of pain. "I'm now not entirely convinced you don't know some kind of magic," Roman teased as the fingertips left his skin.

"It is all entirely nonmagical," Snatcher replied coyly. "Now, how is your neck?"

"My neck?" Roman repeated. "It's fi – " He suddenly realized the opportunity he was about to pass up. "Actually," he said dramatically, "it is just PAINFULLY tense. You couldn't do something about that too, could you?"

"You've persuaded me," Snatcher replied.

"Actually," a third voice broke in, "I don't think you'll have time for that."

Snatcher nearly fell off the bed; Roman's eyes snapped open as he shot into a sitting position. As they both beheld the person who had materialized in their bedroom, one admonished "LORD MOZENRATH!" while the other snapped "RIGHTY!"

"We have DOORS!" Roman cried. "USE them! KNOCK on them! They get locked for a REASON!"

"Do you REALIZE what you could have been interrupting?" Snatcher growled.

"I do," Mozenrath said casually, "but I obviously didn't. Anyway, I'm going to need both of you to report in to the lab. Now."

"Are…you…SERIOUS?" Roman groaned.

"If…" Snatcher said tentatively. "If you could let us have just…a BIT more time to ourselves…"

"And here I thought you'd be happy," Mozenrath enticed. "I figured out a solution to your Hans and Demyx problem."

Snatcher regarded Mozenrath with suspicion. "I don't like the way you said that."

"I figured as much," Mozenrath sighed. "It's a messy solution. But it is a solution nonetheless. It's also mandatory."

"You're not going to leave until we agree," Snatcher realized.

"This is for your own good as much as it is mine," Mozenrath argued.

"And how much of this is for Sideburns' good?" Roman asked.

"If you have to ask," Mozenrath stated, "you already know. He may not be part of our inner circle, but he is still valuable to me in more ways than one. I thought you two of all people would understand. On that note, I'll be waiting." He vanished in a rain of sparkles.

"You know," Roman suggested, "we could just…not show up."

Snatcher rose to his feet. "If he's got a solution to this little war, I want to at least learn what he has in mind."

"You KNOW it's not going to be what we want," Roman groaned.

"We've got to trust him," Snatcher insisted. "It's gotten us this far."

Roman swung his legs off the bed, then stood, adjusting the latest hat he'd had conjured up by Wuya. "I hate that you're right."

...

By the time Roman and Snatcher arrived in the laboratory, they discovered that Hans and Demyx had also been summoned and awaited their presence alongside Mozenrath.

"Look who finally decided to show up," Hans remarked. "Only took them a million years."

"And they say I'm the lazy one," Demyx laughed.

"Don't make me regret showing up at all," Snatcher growled.

"That's far enough," Mozenrath cautioned. "As I understand it, the four of you have been…in conflict."

"As I understand it," Roman rephrased, "Sideburns and Dishwater have been acting like assholes."

"Me?" Demyx protested. "I'm not the one who chased YOU out of a sweet hideout!"

"IT WAS A PUBLIC GUMMI SHIP!" Roman argued.

"I didn't hear of this incident," Snatcher brought up.

"I…didn't think it was worth mentioning," Roman said quickly. "And I still don't, because the real asshole in the room is the one who GLUED MY HAT TO MY FUCKING FACE."

Demyx couldn't hide a chuckle. "That was funny and you know it."

"You glued his hat to his face?" Hans reiterated. "And I MISSED it?"

"You were bad enough on your own!" Snatcher barked. "The last thing we need is you two teaming up!"

"He has a good sense of humor," Hans argued. "In exactly the way both of you don't."

"I don't appreciate my apparent lack of humor being brought to my attention by having food thrown at me," Snatcher growled.

"THAT'S ENOUGH," Mozenrath broke in. "This is exactly what has been inconveniencing me ever since we all came back from our last missions. Here I was, thinking maybe I would actually do something to relax, and all of a sudden, I have to mediate formal apologies, attend unnecessary council meetings, and come up with new punishments for Demyx. If I didn't know better, I'd think all four of you just didn't want me to get any further in the book I was reading. It's incredibly clear where the sides have been chosen here, though…Hans, I have to say I expected you to pick better backup than HIM."

"Heyyyyy!" Demyx whined.

Hans shrugged. "I don't know what bothers you so much about him. He's good fun."

"Yeah!" Demyx asserted. "I'm good fun!"

"I knew you had to have SOME kind of flaw," Mozenrath sighed. "You were getting too good to be true, Hans."

"The other shoe had to fall sometime," Hans teased.

"Getting back to the point," Mozenrath continued, "I want to show you something."

He stepped aside to reveal the compass sitting in its base, the globe showing off a shining star of a world floating in the cosmos. "I asked it to locate an element of pure Life," he explained. "After conferring with Vexen, I've determined what, exactly, we are looking at. The world you see depicted here is home to the kingdom of Corona. There was some cosmic hullaballoo surrounding the world, and under mysterious circumstances, a literal drop of the sun fell to the earth. Common legend says the sundrop grew as a flower somewhere in that kingdom or near it, and, furthermore, that the flower has the power to heal any ailment. That can only be what we're looking for."

"Our next mission, then," Snatcher deduced. "Locate this sundrop flower and bring it back."

"Correction," Mozenrath said with a sly smirk. "This is YOUR next mission. All four of you. You're going to work together to find that flower and bring it back. And hopefully, along the way, you're going to learn how to GET ALONG."

"Aaaaaand there it is," Roman groaned. "I knew we wouldn't like this."

"Mozenrath," Hans stated, "I know you mean well, but I really think this is going to do more harm than good."

"You think I mean well?" Mozenrath replied. "What I MEAN is to get all four of you off my back so I can have some peace and QUIET."

"I can't guarantee I won't murder Dishwater," Roman stated.

"Oh, how would we ever recover?" Mozenrath replied facetiously.

"I absolutely refuse to work so closely with someone who sullies my good name!" Snatcher emphasized.

"Because 'Archibald Snatcher' is suuuuuch a good name," Hans muttered.

"Look," Mozenrath said coldly, "I'm going to be blunt. I don't intend to threaten you into doing this mission. But if you don't figure out a way to coexist, you four are going to bring this entire operation down in flames, and you all know it. So you can collectively refuse this sentimental bonding experience, or you can take one for the team and maybe, just maybe, find something better to put your energy toward than yelling at each other."

The four he addressed were silent for a moment before Snatcher said at last, "It would be in our best interest to find some sort of resolution to this conflict."

"We do have to live with each other for the rest of the foreseeable future," Hans agreed.

"So you agree to collect the sundrop together?" Mozenrath asked.

He was answered with four murmurs that he interpreted as a reluctant but unanimous "Yes."

"Then off you go," Mozenrath declared.

"To the ship, then?" Snatcher suggested.

"NO," Mozenrath said sternly. "You're not taking the ship. And here's why: because if I send four of you in the ship, only two of you – and I don't know which two – are coming back on it, either with some bad excuse about what happened to the other two or a refusal to offer any explanation at all."

"We'd just leave them in a civilized area for a few hours," Demyx protested. "It'd be funny."

"I can assure you," Snatcher lied, "Torchwick and I would NEVER do such a thing."

Mozenrath just raised his eyebrow in response.

"To those who didn't earn it," Snatcher muttered.

"Let me show you how you're ACTUALLY going to get from world to world," Mozenrath stated. "I assume you all have your scrolls on you, and all are reasonably well charged."

Four quick checks assured Mozenrath was right in that regard.

"In that case…" Mozenrath flourished his right hand, and a Corridor of Darkness appeared in the middle of the laboratory. Mozenrath then quickly popped the compass off its base, holding it out. All four made a grab for it, but Snatcher was quickest.

"Follow me," Mozenrath commanded, striding into the Corridor.

Roman and Snatcher traded angry glares with Hans and Demyx.

"AND NO FIGHTING," Mozenrath's voice called back through the portal.

Hans made to walk through first, but Snatcher shoved him aside roughly and did the honor himself. Not wanting to draw any unneeded scolding from Mozenrath, Hans and Demyx hung back and waited as Roman followed; they then hurried after.

The other side of the Corridor emptied out on a grassy shoreline bordering a body of water. The sun sparkled high overhead in a crystal-clear sky: a sight that got more and more annoying with each day spent on the warship, where no one had to be bothered by such garish light. Across the water, which reflected the sun's light in such a way that Snatcher and Roman found themselves adjusting the brims of their hats to keep their eyes shielded, an island was visible with a pastel-colored civilization built over it, rising up over a great hill in the middle with a towering castle at the very heart. It was almost similar to the layout of Cheesebridge, Snatcher thought, but on a gentler slope and with a much less palatable color scheme. Some distance away from where the quintet stood, a stone bridge connected the island to the mainland, presumably leading to the kingdom's thoroughfare.

"Welcome to Corona," Mozenrath said dramatically, gesturing one arm back out toward the island. Then, dropping the act and the arm, "It's actually worse-looking than I thought."

"Thanks!" Roman added with a false smile. "I hate it!"

"Here are the rules," Mozenrath laid out. "I'm going to go back to base and close the Corridor on you. None of you can leave this world unless I come back to get you. When you have the sundrop in your possession, call me and I'll show up to your location. Call me if you run into anything that is otherwise an emergency, and ONLY an emergency. I'm not going to be happy if you call me just to play mediator. I would like to make actual progress in the book I'm reading by the time you get back. Also, when I do return to bring you all back, there had better be four of you. If one of you 'mysteriously' dies, I'll be able to bring that person back to figure out what really happened. If one of you disappears under circumstances that look like death and I find out they're NOT resurrectable, I'll know shenanigans were pulled."

"Must you think so little of me?" Snatcher grunted. "I wouldn't KILL either of them. Nor falsify their deaths."

There was that eyebrow again from Mozenrath.

"Unless they really, truly deserved it," Snatcher muttered.

"Finally…" Mozenrath's wrist flicked, and he drew a broadsword from the air, passing it to Hans. "You get ONE."

"Understood loud and clear," Hans said with a nod.

"You in particular, I want back in one piece," Mozenrath told him. He leaned in quickly, pressing his lips to Hans' cheek for a mere moment before withdrawing them. He still wasn't used to this at all.

"That was a good incentive," Hans told him. "You're saying I can carve the other three into ribbons, though."

"Why ME now?" Demyx groaned. "I was on your side!"

"Be a good boy, Hans," Mozenrath warned coyly.

"But you fell for me because I'm such a bad boy," Hans argued.

Mozenrath turned to give Corona one last look before surveying all four of those he had chosen. "Well…good luck with…all THIS." He then walked back through the portal of the still-open Corridor, cape billowing before the Corona entrance closed.

"So," Demyx brought up, "Roman, remember when you told me you live by the whole 'snitches get stitches' thing?"

"Not specifically, but that is something I would say," Roman confirmed.

"You realize I know exactly who told Mozenrath every time you got mad at me, right?" Demyx said with a sly grin.

Snatcher could already sense tension building between the two, feeling that if he let this go, it might just get physical. He placed himself between Roman and Demyx, facing the latter; "Now, now. We have our differences to be sure, but this is a case in which it is absolutely crucial we put them aside. Repulsive as the idea may be, we ARE here to work with each other and figure out exactly where our common ground lies. I, for one, am quite willing to give this a chance, but it's moot if the rest of you are dead set on antagonizing each other."

"He's right," Hans stated. "It's now or never if we're going to get over our disagreements."

Bold words from the man who keeps starting the incidents, Snatcher thought, but he kept quiet.

"Which way does the compass say we should go?" Hans asked.

Snatcher withdrew the instrument, noting that its needle pointed directly away from the kingdom of Corona itself. "Hm. That's peculiar."

"Looks like the kingdom isn't even our target," Hans remarked. "We should probably get moving."

"No, we most certainly should not," Snatcher argued. "We've been given a direction, yes, and nothing more. We've got to get a more solid location in mind before setting out. There's bound to be more information regarding this mystic sundrop in the kingdom proper, and we are going to conduct a proper investigation there before making any further move."

"Even though you know that's the wrong way," Hans retorted.

"I am temporarily going the wrong way in order to figure out what, EXACTLY, is the right way," Snatcher clarified.

"Well, I'm not going to argue with that," Hans relented.

"I just know it's going to be a slog either way," Demyx groaned. "Might as well go where we know we can score some food first."

"Lead the way," Roman said encouragingly.

The quartet set out to cross the great bridge that would lead them within Corona's borders.

...

Mozenrath reappeared in the laboratory, pondering his next move. He truly was moved to find some actual method of relaxation, against all of his previous record. The book he'd found detailing the Cyclonian wars of the past still called him, and he contemplated simply teleporting back to his room to read until he got tired. Yet there was a small part of him that cried out for something more physically demanding, and so he decided to at the very least walk back to his room to get that out of his system.

As he departed the laboratory, he crossed paths with the Huntsman. The latter seemed rather inexplicably determined, heading for some destination at a quick pace. After observing this, Mozenrath stopped caring about whatever it was the Huntsman was actually thinking.

He probably should have been quite concerned with the Huntsman's thought process and goal at that particular moment.

The next person Mozenrath encountered, some time later, was Scarlet Overkill, who was in the act of sticking a flyer for the improv troupe onto the wall with putty. "Mozenrath!" she greeted. "Any interest in joining the newly founded WHAM ARMY improv troupe?"

"Absolutely zero," Mozenrath replied, slowing down just enough for her to catch the answer.

She began to walk beside him, a sheaf of flyers in hand. "We had a pretty good turnout for our first run," she explained.

Mozenrath debated asking her why she thought he cared, but found he didn't really have the drive for it. She would go away on her own when he reached his room, and hearing her out wasn't so bad. Besides, it was good to know what was going on elsewhere in his domain.

"It actually would have been a GREAT meeting if Snatcher, Roman, Demyx, and Hans hadn't gotten into that enormous fight," Scarlet lamented. "But we got all four of them plus Irmaplotz and Herb, and now that I know what NOT to put in the bowl, things should go a lot smoother next time."

"I hate to tell you this," Mozenrath replied, realizing it would be relevant, "but I just put half your troupe on a mission for an unspecified amount of time."

"Whaaaaat?" Scarlet groaned.

"Snatcher, Roman, Demyx, and Hans have to learn to get along," Mozenrath said with a shrug. Perhaps he cared about this subject after all. "So I set them on course to find the next element required for our spell and told them not to come back until they found it. And, hopefully, they should figure out how not to kill each other along the way. In the meantime, any and all skirmishes that break out between them is going to take place very far away from us."

"Huh," Scarlet replied. "That's actually a pretty good idea. It does take the improv crowd down in numbers, though. You can't really do improv games with only three people. Are you SURE you don't have any interest?"

"Scarlet Overkill," Mozenrath told her confidently, "I have always hated improvising."

"Well, geez," Scarlet commented, "you don't like singing, you don't like dancing, you don't like improv…"

"I tolerate singing now," Mozenrath argued, with higher spirits than he would have expected. "And Hans showed me the brighter side to dancing."

"Still," Scarlet prompted, "what do you actually LIKE to do?"

"Work on my next goal," Mozenrath answered.

"For FUN," Scarlet clarified.

"I have a good book," Mozenrath told her.

"Okay, here's a challenge," Scarlet posed. "Name something you actually like to do that involves other people. If you name something good, we can actually arrange it for later today."

"Well," Mozenrath mused, "I suppose it would have to be something intellectual. Something like…"

The idea struck him. "Actually, I know exactly what I would do."

...

Scarlet had approved of Mozenrath's idea, and once it was on the table, both agreed it would be an entertaining pursuit, even more so than catching up on Cyclonian history. They arranged the event, and within a couple hours, everyone save for the Huntsman (who was still occupied with business unknown) and the four Mozenrath had sent to Corona had gathered in the karaoke room to find the stage adorned with a plain table, giant plasma screens hanging from the ceiling that displayed the table from above and head-on, and a blackboard on the back wall that had the names of all present arranged in a bracket.

"WELCOME TO THE FIRST EVER WHAM ARMY CHESS TOURNAMENT!" Yzma declared, dressed in black-and-white referee stripes for the occasion.

"We're going to find out who will be crowned ultimate chess champion," Wuya added, wearing similar. "The rules are simple: matches proceed according to the bracket."

"There will be intermissions between each match," Yzma added. "Enough for strategizing and collecting sustenance."

"Matches that end in stalemates will be restarted," Wuya went on. "No ties. Only victors and losers."

"Now GIVE US A BIG CHEER!" Yzma cried.

"WOOOOO!" Irmaplotz and only Irmaplotz cried.

"It's chess," Scarlet said loudly. "It's not really a cheering thing."

"What loser decided this was a good idea?" Garfield muttered to Peter.

"The loser that lets you live in his base free of charge," Mozenrath whispered to Garfield from the other side.

As Garfield flinched, Mozenrath told him, "If you people could get me used to karaoke night, I'm going to get you used to this."

"For our first match!" Yzma cried. "Drumroll please!"

Wuya conjured a drum set for the express purpose of playing the roll. When she hit the cymbal, Yzma yelled, "MOZENRATH VERSUS SNIPE!"

"I probably should have proofed this bracket before it went official," Mozenrath sighed as he made his way to the stage.

At least, he thought as he saw Snipe approaching from the opposite end of the stage, this should be an easy win. Both took their seats, staring each other down across the table.

"You HAVE played chess before, haven't you?" Mozenrath asked to clarify.

"Of course I have!" Snipe barked. "What, do you think I'm STUPID?"

"No comment," Mozenrath replied smugly. He gestured to Snipe's half of the board; "White goes first."

"Hmmm." After surveying his pieces, Snipe lay his hand on the knight, moving it to another square.

"That's not how the knight moves," Mozenrath informed him.

Snipe edged the knight a square forward.

"That is also not how the knight moves," Mozenrath stated.

Snipe swapped the knight's place with a pawn.

"Still not how the knight works," Mozenrath grunted.

What followed was a match the viewing of which was akin to watching one's taxes get filed by a professional. It took Snipe half an hour to even get the hang of moving the pieces correctly; once that had been accomplished, he seemed fixated on getting his pawns from one end of the board to the other while Mozenrath swept his larger pieces into captivity. Mozenrath finally learned his angle when Snipe placed a pawn in the starting square for Mozenrath's rook, declaring, "KING ME!"

"You do realize this is chess," Mozenrath sighed. "Not checkers."

"Same difference!" Snipe argued.

"The worst part is you're only partially wrong," Mozenrath groaned as he swapped Snipe's pawn for the queen Mozenrath had stolen earlier.

Mozenrath soon had Snipe's king surrounded, and Yzma filled his name in the next spot on the bracket.

...

The Huntsman had taken Snatcher's words to heart. It would do him good to compare his past successes and failures, those he had undergone as part of the Huntsclan, to those he had undergone with the WHAM ARMY. That would give him the answer as to what did him the most good.

Unfortunately, he found his lens to the past clouded by bias. There was the matter of his own death, of the Huntsgirl and her betrayal, of the memories he'd made with his new allies ever since Mozenrath had pulled him from the abyss. He needed to find out anew which was better: working with the WHAM ARMY or controlling his own faction made up of like-minded individuals who were not friends.

There was no one else in the Gummi hangar when he approached the ship. He hadn't let anyone know he was undertaking this quest, and he preferred it stay a secret. Once the results had been tallied, he would then announce his decision to the others.

Settling in the pilot's seat, he ignited the ship's engine. The course set was for his homeworld. That was where he could best replicate his past career. There was no Huntsclan left, but he knew it would be easy to locate those who had encountered the magical underworld and harbored desires to destroy pieces of it.

The ship careened away from the base.

If this venture didn't go well, he would return to the WHAM ARMY and rethink his position, perhaps rescind some of his harsher words. But if he succeeded on his own with a greater margin of victory than he collected with the WHAM ARMY, he would cut what he considered dead weight by abandoning the WHAM ARMY to fly solo once and for all.

...

During his time lying on the floor of the Gummi ship, Kazuichi Soda learned quite a few things, as the people who made up his rescue party had taken the opportunity to introduce themselves in brief and explain their situations.

Sora and Riku were wielders of some kind of sword called the "Keyblade." Kazuichi wasn't sure he understood the concept fully, but it seemed to be a big deal, and the fate of many worlds revolved around these swords, even though Riku had recently lost his. They had been traveling worlds for the longest out of anyone aboard the ship. They were also lovers, which answered the biggest question on Kazuichi's mind whenever he met someone new (that question being "Who do you like?" or alternatively "Who are you going for?").

Ruby was in training to be a huntress, even though the school that was teaching her the art had been torn apart by a league of people Kazuichi couldn't help but compare to the Ultimate Despairs. She had been part of a team of friends, but upon the school's destruction, that team had disbanded. That was a shame as far as Kazuichi was concerned. His feelings on friendship had been complicated over the years, but he knew all too well how much it hurt to lose the friends you were closest to. If Ruby didn't still talk up Weiss, Blake, and Yang as being so good, Kazuichi might have developed a little grudge against them for abandoning her.

Papyrus had lived underground for most of his life before a child had given his people a way to pass into the world above and live among humans. He also claimed to have been incredibly popular, with legions of fans and a close group of friends even before meeting any of the others aboard the ship. Even though this was something Kazuichi had only very recently said a variant of to describe himself, and he should have known better, he took this statement at face value and believed it.

Stork was a pilot who ferried around a group of teenage heroes in a world where the ground was dangerous. This team – no, squadron – had recently won a war against an evil empire. None of this actually answered what Stork was, physically. Kazuichi knew he wasn't human, but didn't have any frame of reference for what he might actually be. Partway through Stork's story, however, he abandoned the question entirely, figuring he wouldn't get an answer and it wasn't all that relevant anymore anyway.

Jasmine and Aladdin were royalty on their homeworld. Kazuichi found this interesting, wondering if they would get along well with Sonia because of this and if they made better or worse heirs to the throne than Sonia. Sonia had blown her chance by usurping her throne by force and taking on the role of despot before Makoto had brought her back to her senses, and both Aladdin and Jasmine seemed quite nice, expressing a desire to only do what was best for their people. Still, it seemed to go against nature for Kazuichi to think anyone could be better royalty than Sonia.

Katara was able to control water in an art she insisted wasn't magic. She too had been responsible for the fall of an evil empire, though in the end, the empire wasn't so much evil as the emperor (or "Fire Lord") and Katara was actually friends with the current leader. She was in the beginning stages of a relationship with the heroic Avatar Aang, though why she would pick him over a literal prince like Zuko, Kazuichi didn't quite understand. It was the gender-reversed version of his own situation.

All in all, they sounded like good people. And the more they went on, the more Kazuichi was inclined to trust in them and believe they were telling the truth. Who would bother making up all of these elaborate backstories just to cover a sinister truth? They all treated Kazuichi with kindness – he could even sense it behind Stork's distrust, which he found he sympathized with, even when it was turned against him. They all had booming, colorful personalities, not unlike those of the other members of Class 77. In short, after hearing them talk, Kazuichi realized he wanted to be friends with them.

It was Hajime who had taught him how to trust in friends again. An incident, long before Junko or even Hope's Peak, had shattered his faith in the concept of friendship, as the person closest to him had left him burned over something as petty as a school exam. He had carried that burden for years, thinking that getting too close to someone would eventually lead to betrayal no matter what. It was one of the facets that Junko had learned about and exploited to bring out his dark side, convincing him that he could never make any true friends and the rest of the world was only lying in wait to become his enemies. In Neo World, however, he had grown ever closer to Hajime, and it was that relationship that inspired him to open his heart again and let others inside. Others like Akane and Fuyuhiko. Sonia had always occupied part of his heart to some extent, even during the phase when Junko had dragged him further down by telling him Sonia would never love him (and Junko had claimed she, in fact, did and was willing to fill that void), but he had only really thought she could be a true friend after Hajime paved the way.

Now he was ready to let even more people in. He was growing ever more attached to this group, and he realized he would be honored if they would let him in. They already seemed to be amazing friends with each other, and Kazuichi found himself wishing he could be part of that.

"What about you, Kazuichi?" Ruby asked. "Are you feeling up to telling your story?"

He tried to sit up, open his mouth. The bile backed up in his throat, and all he managed was a quick "Talking is no" before thudding back down into a lying position, hands clamped over his mouth, unable to speak for himself.

"It's all right," Jasmine reassured him. "We can wait."

It was probably for the best, he thought. Because the moment he let on about his past as an Ultimate Despair, he knew the dream would be over. These really were heroes, doing good and striking down evil where it stood. Kazuichi had built instruments of murder and worked to bring about the destruction of his own world. He wanted to belong with these people. But he knew he didn't. They would cast him aside once they knew. And perhaps that was just the best he deserved.

...

Leon, Cid, Aerith, Yuffie, Ienzo, Lea, Aeleus, and Merlin stood in a circle in the castle chapel. Had they known of how Maleficent and her companions used to stand in the exact same formation in that location, they might have been too chilled to use it in the same manner. As it were, however, they simply went about business.

Kairi arrived moments after they had begun meeting. "You wanted to see me?" she reiterated as she tentatively stepped into the room.

Aerith and Yuffie moved aside to make room for her. "We're glad you could join us," Aerith stated.

"We were just discussing the matter of security we're now facing," Leon explained.

"Security?" Kairi repeated.

"Those Mozenrath fuckwits got the better of us," Cid reminded her. "We ain't gonna let that happen again."

"We were discussing the measures that must be taken to stop similar incidents from occurring in the future," Ienzo stated.

"To make a long story short," Leon clarified, "we all think maybe we've got enough people living in this castle. We got in trouble because we kept our doors open. If we want to protect ourselves, we have to close them to anyone else new who wants to come knocking."

"But that's not fair!" Kairi cried. "What about the people who need our help?"

"Then we'll help 'em," Lea stated, "but we won't let 'em in, and we sure ain't tellin' 'em our life story."

"What about Jumba, Pleakley, and Lilo?" Kairi reminded them all. "They saved Disney Castle because we let them in! They saved US from the data Organization!"

"There wouldn't have been a data Organization if we hadn't let Archibald and his minion into the grounds," Ienzo brought up.

"It sounds harsh," Aerith agreed. "I wasn't a fan of the idea either. But it's the only way we can truly be safe."

"Lock up the doors and throw away the key!" Yuffie agreed.

"I don't like this," Kairi argued. "I know it's the only way we can be sure to be safe…but maybe sometimes, we have to risk our safety to help someone else. There's going to be a time when someone is going to need to shelter with us for real, and we can't just turn them away."

"That sounds nice on paper," Leon told her, "and maybe it would work in an ideal world, but we did almost lose everything because we trusted the wrong people."

"We will need an emissary," Merlin stated. "Someone who can take our ruling as Committee and distribute it throughout the other residents of the castle. You have great diplomatic skill, young lady. Perhaps you can pass on our word!"

Kairi looked desperately around at the faces of the Committee. All were set in their decision. "Then…I will," she sighed. "I'll tell them all. I just…feel like this is going to go wrong."

"It won't go wrong," Cid told her. "It's not like that many new people even turned up on our door lookin' to be saved anyway. Last few just showed up 'cause they wanted to help. And now, no one else gets to play hero. We got the positions filled."

Before Kairi could say anything further, Mickey burst into the room. "Sora's back!" he announced. "We all spotted his ship flyin' in over town!"

"Sora!" Kairi cried; "Riku!" She turned and bolted from the room, following Mickey.

"It will be good to see him again," Aerith commented. "I wonder how his mission went. Or perhaps, more accurately, it was Ruby's mission."

"It was them!" Yuffie laughed. "Do you even have to ask? You know they rocked it!"

The Committee filed out of the chapel.

The moment the Gummi ship touched down, Kazuichi stumbled out of it and let the contents of his stomach spill onto the side of the street. Stork, the next to descend from the ship, remarked, "I wouldn't want to trade places with whoever gets to clean that up."

By the time all had disembarked from the ship, the entire Radiant Garden contingent had arrived, with Mickey, Donald, and Goofy in the lead. "SORA!" Donald and Goofy cried, launching themselves at the brunette.

"DONALD! GOOFY!" Sora laughed as they tackled him and bowled him over in a tight hug, which Sora gladly returned. "I missed you guys!"

Mickey approached Riku, extending his right hand; Riku eagerly clasped it. "It's good to see ya, pal!" Mickey laughed.

"Same here," Riku said with a smile.

Kairi made her way into the fray. "How was the mission?" she asked.

"Weeeeeellll…" Sora, back on his feet, scratched the back of his head. "We didn't exactly…find Cinder."

"Mozenrath beat us to her," Riku explained, "and stole a powerful magic from that world while he was at it."

"I'm starting to think going after Cinder instead of him was the wrong move," Ruby admitted.

"We can't let him keep getting out of hand," Aladdin asserted.

"How were things back here?" Sora asked.

"You missed a lot," Kairi told him. "We'll all have to catch up in the library. It sounds like you have a lot to tell us, too."

That was when Kazuichi stood, stance somewhat wobbly, and declared, "Okay…I think I'm good now."

"Um…Sora? Riku?" Kairi asked, her eyes – as were the eyes of everyone else who'd come to greet – fixed on this apparent stranger. "Who is that?"

Sora stepped back to Kazuichi's side, using one arm to pull Kazuichi in close to him. "This is our new friend Kazuichi!" he explained. "We almost couldn't get back home, but he saved us!"

"He was almost a victim of Xehanort," Riku went on. "We saved him as much as he saved us."

"We just figured he could stay with us for a while!" Sora declared.

Kazuichi looked out over the sea of faces that regarded him. Slowly putting up a hand and forcing Sora to relinquish his grip by doing so, he let out an "Uh…hi?"

The members of the Committee traded looks. Already it looked like their new doctrine was facing a complication.


	67. Bad Reactions

A/N: The Tangled continuity picks up around the same time as episodes 2 and 3 of season 2 of Tangled: The Series (specifically, the Vardaros episodes).

...

Corona had looked garish from a distance; it was even worse up close, with its decorative flora and winding streets that led past mosaic-mural walls and fountains in the centers of squares.

"So if we can all agree on one thing already," Demyx suggested, "it's that this place is just ugly?"

"That's quite fair," Snatcher agreed.

"Who thought all these flowers were a good idea?" Roman grumbled.

"It actually reminds me a lot of home," Hans observed. "So, naturally, I hate it."

"Where to?" Roman asked. "I'd ultimately like to spend as little time here as possible."

"We all would," Snatcher agreed, leading on. "Our best bet is to find a source of knowledge. This kingdom ought to have a library of some sort. Somewhere we can peruse information regarding the subject of history and legend. All we've got to do is discover its location."

"What," Demyx teased, "are you just gonna walk up to someone and admit you don't know where – "

"Pardon me, good sir!" Snatcher had already flagged down a civilian. "My associates and I seem to be a good bit turned around. Might you be able to point us in the direction of the library?"

"It's that way," the man he'd addressed answered, pointing in a direction. "About ten blocks up and three to the left."

"I thank you, good sir!" Snatcher said politely, tipping his hat.

The four soon entered the indicated building, which was fashioned of wood that creaked underfoot. Shelves laden with leather-bound books lined every wall; a spiral stairway led to floors both above and below. Large windows let altogether too much light for the quartet's liking pour in, but it was still better than being outside.

"Let's stake a claim," Hans decided. "Somewhere we won't be disturbed. After that, we split up. Demyx and I will grab anything we can find about local legends, and Mr. Snatcher and Roman can pick out the best history books."

"That sounds reasonable," Snatcher agreed.

They chose a tucked-away alcove on the upper level before splitting up. Three of them – Hans, Snatcher, and Roman – reconvened with piles of books in their arms; Demyx was inexplicably absent.

"Tell me one of you didn't tie Demyx up and throw him in the broom closet when I wasn't looking," Hans sighed, setting down his books.

Roman was already stretched out on his stomach on the floor, paging through the first of his finds. "Knowing that guy," he remarked, "he probably just ran off once he realized how much work this was gonna be."

"That's…" Hans began to argue before realizing how in-character that was for Demyx. "Probably what actually happened."

Snatcher had taken up a seat on a purple-and-blue-cushioned bench positioned near a window, cracking open a tome of his own. "We'd best begin. No sense in waiting for him to return, or we'd be waiting past sundown."

Hans sat on the floor, opening his own book.

Demyx showed up a few minutes later, holding a tray of cupcakes frosted with neon colors. He walked quickly and furtively, keeping the tray close to his chest. He relaxed once he got to the alcove, declaring, "Look what I got!"

Roman scrambled to his feet immediately. There was a chance that nothing bad would come of this. All the same, cupcakes had just gotten involved: the sort of cupcake that was likely to be made with copious amounts of milk. "Where did you even get those?" he sighed, trying to sound casual about it.

"There's a bakery down the street," Demyx explained. "I saw it on the way up here. I didn't expect the owner to be such a big scary guy, but getting these out the door wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. Then again, I am kiiiiiiind of a master thief, so I don't know what I was even worried about. Anyway, in the spirit of team bonding, I got enough for everyone." He approached Snatcher's bench first, plucking a cupcake frosted in bright blue from the tray and holding it out to him. "Here! I would've gotten you a red one, but I don't think this kingdom gets the concept of colors that aren't pastel."

Snatcher eyed the cupcake. He did, deep down, know better. As long as he could get out of this with a simple excuse, there needn't be a problem. "I'm not hungry at the moment," he grunted, swinging his eyes back to his book.

"Awww, come onnnnn," Demyx cajoled. "Don't be rude. I went to all the trouble of getting this whole tray so everyone could have one."

He'd just fenced Snatcher in with societal convention. Snatcher, in turn, convinced himself there wouldn't be a problem. With an "All right, then," he put out his hand to receive the cupcake.

Roman quickly intervened, slapping Demyx's hand upward so the cupcake crashed into his face, spreading icing and crumbling cake all over it.

"Heyyyyyyyy!" Demyx whined, scraping at the dessert with the hand that had previously held a cupcake. "What was that for?"

"I thought it would be funny," Roman replied with a grin. "And it was." Just because it wasn't his primary reason for sabotaging Demyx didn't mean it hadn't become an honest reason.

Snatcher only barely managed to cover a laugh of his own.

"Wow," Hans commented. "Is this how you two act when anyone tries to be nice to you?"

"I did say I wasn't wanting for food at the moment," Snatcher reminded him.

"Huh," Hans remarked. "I didn't realize you were allergic to nice gestures."

The phrasing struck Snatcher like a ballistic, but he forced it out of his mind. It was a mere coincidence, and besides, that choice of words shouldn't matter to him at all as far as he was concerned. He refused to admit there was a reason for them to do so.

Roman, however, was experiencing alarm bells going off in his own brain. Why had Hans used the word "allergic"? He had to have known. Of course he knew, Roman told himself. Mozenrath had probably informed him. But then why not call Snatcher's allergy out directly? Why watch as Demyx offered the cupcake? It all reeked of subterfuge. Before, Roman had merely disliked Hans and Demyx. Now he was downright suspicious of them.

The librarian hustled onto the upper level, having remembered seeing patrons enter earlier. As Roman, Snatcher, Hans, and Demyx were the only four inside the building, she rushed to them, crying out, "A proclamation!"

Demyx shielded the cupcake tray with his body so it would not be seen by the librarian's prying eyes.

"King Frederic is giving a proclamation before the whole kingdom!" the librarian announced without waiting for any of the four to respond. "The news only just reached here! We need to get to the castle immediately!" With that, she rushed off.

"Hm…" Snatcher pondered this. "This could be important."

"You really think he's going to say anything about the sundrop flower?" Demyx asked.

"One never knows," Snatcher answered. "But we'll certainly learn something by attending, whether it is pertinent to our current situation or will be more useful later on."

"Well, then, let's go!" Demyx urged, flat-out dropping the cupcakes on the floor before bolting toward the spiral staircase.

"Wait for us!" Hans yelled as he followed.

As Snatcher rose from his bench, Roman stood directly before him, preventing him from passing. "Um, no," Roman said firmly. "We need to talk."

"Never pleasant words," Snatcher muttered.

Roman leaned in close; Hans and Demyx may have been out of sight, but he wasn't taking any chances. "This has to stop now," he hissed.

"We can't stop," Snatcher reminded him, keeping his own tone low – if Roman was being quiet, it was obviously for a reason. "Lord Mozenrath insisted – "

"Not the mission!" Roman growled. "This whole denial thing you have over your allergy!"

Snatcher flinched. "I don't know what you're – "

"Yes, you do," Roman insisted. "You damn well do. I've been shielding you so far, but that was too close. Do you know what would have happened if you'd eaten that cupcake?"

"It…would likely have been too sweet for my tastes, but all the same – "

"You would've blown up like a fucking balloon and thought you were a hundred worlds away from here!" Roman snapped. "Seriously, this doesn't matter anymore! You're not in Jerktown! No one cares if you can't eat a piece of cheese! But I don't trust those two, and I am sure that cupcake was an act of premeditated murder! Dishwater knew EXACTLY what button to press to get you to try and put that thing in your mouth! If they're going to start coming at this from THAT angle, I can't protect you every waking hour of the day. You have to drop this fucking act and protect yourself for once in your life!"

"Don't take up that tone with me, Torchwick," Snatcher replied sternly, "and don't accuse me of things that aren't true."

"It literally does not matter!" Roman urged. "I don't know if you're keeping this up because it's a bad habit or because part of you still wants in with that crowd!"

"I most certainly DO NOT – "

"You have already come so far since I met you," Roman went on. "Can you please just be mature about this for long enough that I don't have to worry about someone using a glass of milk to assassinate you behind my back?"

"Drop this matter, Torchwick. Drop it immediately – "

"No. You're lying to yourself and everyone else so you can try to fit in with a power structure you promised you were done with," Roman reiterated, his tone escalating. "You don't even fucking care about us long enough to watch out for your own health. You're just waiting for the day you can go groveling back to that bunch of assholes and prove you can be in charge of a bunch of IDIOTS!"

"YOU DON'T KNOW THE FIRST THING ABOUT ME, TORCHWICK!" Snatcher positively yelled in return. "IF YOU INSIST ON TREATING ME LIKE A CHILD WHO CAN'T FEND FOR HIMSELF, I'D RATHER YOU NOT SPEAK TO ME AT ALL!"

"I'M TREATING YOU THIS WAY BECAUSE YOU CAN'T FEND FOR YOUR FUCKING SELF! ALL THIS TIME, I'VE BEEN GIVING YOU CREDIT FOR BEING ONE OF THE SMARTEST PEOPLE I KNOW, BUT YOU'RE AN IDIOT!"

"ME, THE IDIOT?" Snatcher countered. "YOU'RE THE ONE WHO CAN'T FEND FOR HIMSELF, AND FURTHERMORE, DOESN'T KNOW WHEN TO BACK OFF."

Roman's entire demeanor changed then, from charged to calm. "You want me to either stop treating you like a kid or stop talking to you?" he resolved. "Fine. But you're not going to like the option I pick."

He stormed toward the stairway, his mind already brimming with machinations of how to get the upper hand in this confrontation.

Snatcher watched him leave before straightening out his jacket and striding afterward. He didn't feel like dealing with this matter at all, so he simply decided not to. Roman would come around if given enough time. There were currently more important matters to pursue.

...

The entire contingent had gathered in the library once more to discuss the issue at hand. No sooner had the Committee regulated against outsiders entering the castle than Sora had brought home Kazuichi Soda, insisting he needed to stay at the castle for some time. Sora found himself in the center of the floor on the lower level, all eyes on him as he was expected to explain himself. Kazuichi had moved to a table near the edge of the room, trying to put himself in the periphery as everyone else argued over him. He pulled up his hood, pinching its edge between his fingers.

"It's a stupid rule!" Sora yelled at Leon.

"You wouldn't be saying that if you had been here," Leon told him calmly. "Snatcher and his minion had us all fooled. They had the same story as everyone else. The difference is everyone else here has had time to prove their trustworthiness."

"So you're just going to close off the doors to everyone who needs you?" Katara snapped, moving next to Sora.

"Man, you make it sound so icky when you put it like that," Lea sighed.

"Because it is icky!" Sora barked. "You got fooled once, and you think that means EVERYONE'S out to get you?"

"Yeah, well, once was too many times!" Nick yelled from the upper level.

"We thought they were our friends!" Donald added.

"They were perfectly convincing, as anyone else could be!" Merlin punctuated.

"Now, hold on!" Sadira broke in. "If we'd had this rule, we could've kept Snatcher and his friend out. But we also never would've met Pleakley! Or Jumba or Lilo. But especially Pleakley!"

"We do owe a lot to Jumba," Mickey reiterated.

"How do you even KNOW he stopped the Claymores?" Donald snapped. "We didn't see it for ourselves!"

"But he DID stop the data Organization from overrunning the castle and the town," Mickey reminded Donald.

"Mickey's right!" Goofy added. "If we hadn't been open to lettin' in new friends, we never woulda figured out how to beat that data!"

"But that ain't even gettin' into the real problem here!" Cid chimed in. "At least that Snatcher fella put up a disguise and everything! You just went and picked up a guy wearin' the Organization cloak off Xehanort's home base! How fuckin' STUPID do you have to be?"

Sora was taken aback at this comment. Before he could think to say anything – and he had a lot to say about it – Riku and Papyrus yelled right back at Cid:

"IT WASN'T STUPID!"

"DON'T CALL HIM THAT!"

"Then whaddaya call what he just did?" Cid huffed.

"I wore that same coat when I was working for Mickey and Ansem the Wise!" Riku argued.

"KAZUICHI WAS OBVIOUSLY VERY FRIGHTENED!" Papyrus added. "WE COULDN'T JUST LEAVE HIM THERE!"

"This is the most obvious fuckin' trick in the book!" Cid argued.

"Then maybe that proves it isn't a trick!" Katara argued. "Why would Xehanort try to plant someone in our ranks who he KNEW we'd all suspect and try to throw out?"

"Unless," Donald suggested, "he knew you'd think that person was too obvious to be suspicious and argue for keeping him here!"

"Well," Sora rebutted, "what if he knew sending someone for that reason would be a dumb idea, because if the person was too obvious to be suspicious, then we'd think Xehanort planned it on purpose, so Xehanort wouldn't do that for that exact reason?"

"My head hurts," Goofy complained.

"I know what we decided," Aerith broke in, "but Sora's new friend did seem to be in a bad place."

"I'm not saying it was wrong to save him from Xehanort," Leon clarified.

"I'm sayin' that!" Cid argued. "I'm sayin' exactly that! Because it wasn't no rescue!"

"He just can't stay here," Leon asserted.

"Well, where else is he supposed to go?" Katara asked angrily.

It was like being in a class trial all over again, Kazuichi thought as he remained still, not quite of the confidence to argue for himself. Like a class trial where half the room thought he was guilty of murder.

"I don't know," Leon ruled, "but it isn't here."

"That's not fair!" Katara yelled.

"Mozenrath's lackeys weren't fair to us," Leon reiterated.

"You said this wasn't even about that!" Katara snapped. "You said this was about Kazuichi being with Xehanort!"

"I was the one who said that, not him!" Cid groaned. "Keep your damn arguments straight!"

"EVERYONE NEEDS TO CALM DOWN!" Papyrus declared. "WE ARE TALKING ABOUT A HUMAN WHO HAS BEEN THROUGH TRAUMATIZING THINGS! NO MATTER WHAT, WE NEED TO BE ABLE TO SHOW HIM KINDNESS!"

"Oh, for the love of – you're just as stupid as Sora is!" Cid groaned.

"STOP CALLING SORA STUPID!" Riku growled.

"And stop calling PAPYRUS stupid!" Ruby chimed in.

"Just stop calling people stupid, you sexist pig!" Yuffie added.

"Whose side are you on?" Cid retorted.

Jasmine made her way to the center of the room. "Can I say something?"

"Well, the situation can't be made much worse, now, can it?" Merlin relented. "Speak your mind."

"What about the hourglass?" Jasmine asked. "Couldn't we ask it to show us who Kazuichi is working with? The only reason no one thought to use it on Mr. Snatcher was because no one expected the new visitor to really be him. If you had used it, you would have seen the truth."

There was a silence before Sadira said, "She's got a point."

"The only problem is that the hourglass's answers are cryptic," Leon reminded her. "We might not get a straightforward answer."

"Or we might get one that clears up everything," Jasmine argued.

"Wait a minute!" Yuffie realized. "If we can ask the hourglass who Kazuichi is working for, we can also ask it where his homeworld is!"

"That's true," Leon realized. "And once we've figured it out, you can take him home."

That got Kazuichi to stand up. "You can get me back home?" he asked eagerly. He knew it was not too long ago that he had wanted to leave Jabberwock Island. But so far, since doing exactly that, he had gone to two different worlds entirely, and neither one had been nice to him. "Please. I wanna go back home."

"I don't know," Stork piped up. "If Xehanort knew where to find him the first time, he'll know where to find him again, and then we'll be right back where we started."

"Or maybe he gave up after you escaped," Chip volunteered.

"I'll take my chances!" Kazuichi insisted. "I just want to get out of all this craziness and go home!"

"Then you'll get to go home," Leon promised. "Just as soon as we learn where your home is."

"Y'all can drop him off on your next mission," Cid decided. "Whatever you decided that is."

"We just got back!" Sora grouched. "And now you want to send us right back out again?"

"That is a good point," Aerith stated. "It is very soon. Perhaps someone else should bring Kazuichi home while the others rest."

"NO," Papyrus decided. "WE WILL DO IT. WE'LL BRING HIM BACK WHEN WE GO OUT ON OUR NEXT MISSION. HOWEVER, OUR NEXT MISSION BEGINS WHENEVER WE DECIDE IT DOES."

"Yeah!" Sora agreed. "And that's not gonna be for at least a while!"

"Sora," Leon began to say sternly.

"I think they should get to stay!" Kairi said firmly. "If you're not going to let Kazuichi stay permanently, at least let him stay long enough that everyone can get a break!"

"It's not like having him around for a day is going to ruin us," Jaune added. "What can he report back that our enemies don't already know? They all know we're here."

"We at least need to let them stay long enough to join us on that beach trip we planned!" Kairi insisted.

"Beach trip?" Sora asked quizzically.

"After Lilo, Stitch, Jumba, and Pleakley went home," Nora explained, "a bunch of us were talking about taking the train down to the beach."

"It's been so long since I've actually gotten to see the ocean," Moana asserted.

"It would remind a lot of us of home," Kairi added.

"And we could have some fun!" Chip contributed.

"We ain't riskin' lettin' anything on to the enemy so y'all can splash around at the beach!" Cid snapped.

But it was too late, as Nora was already chanting "Beach trip! Beach trip!"

This, in turn, got Yuffie to chime in: "Beach trip! Beach trip!"

"WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU EVEN ON?" Cid yelled at Yuffie.

The chant of "Beach trip!" was now echoing throughout the entire library.

"All r – " Leon attempted. "Fine, you – " He hung his head and growled.

Donald, seeing Leon try to break through, held his staff up high. As a bolt of lightning struck an unoccupied patch of floor with a great BOOM, Donald screamed, "EVERYBODY SHUT UP!"

That got the room quiet enough for Leon to say, "All right. You can all stay for the beach trip. But no one says anything to the stranger about who we are or what we're doing."

"Well, what if I already told him?" Sora asked indignantly.

"Probably shouldn't have said that," Kazuichi muttered to him.

"How dumb can ya get?" Cid groaned.

"No one says anything ELSE about who we are or what we're doing," Leon amended. "And after everyone's rested, then Sora and whoever else is going with him on the next mission can take the stranger back home where he belongs."

"Fine," Sora agreed. "You have a deal."

"Now let's learn where our stranger came from," Leon declared, fixing his eyes upon Kazuichi.

Just when it seemed like Kazuichi had found friends, he was met with hostility on their world. It was altogether another argument for despair.

...

It seemed improbable that the entire kingdom's population could squeeze into the courtyard over which the king's balcony loomed, and yet they did. Snatcher made sure to position himself just off-center of the crowd; either the exact center or any of the edges would draw the king's eye, and though he didn't expect to cause trouble here in Corona itself, he thought it better safe than sorry when it came to being noticed and remembered. Hans, Demyx, and Roman followed his lead.

Once the crowd stopped filtering in, the king himself appeared, imposingly tall and strikingly brunette, clad in robes of violet. His queen stood at his side, with hair of matching brown and a gown of coordinating violet.

"Attention, citizens," King Frederic began, and the crowd settled down. He hadn't been looking forward to this particular proclamation, but it was imperative to say. "Thank you all for coming to hear what I have to say. As you all know, we recently celebrated the nineteenth birthday of Princess Rapunzel."

This elicited a cheer from the crowd. Frederic had to wait some time for it to die down so he could proceed. "It was a joyous occasion for us all," he agreed. "However, it was not the only event that took place that is worth noting on that day. Any of you who have traveled here from Old Corona know that a battle took place there on that day. It is time I explain the circumstances of that battle…and apologize for a wrong I committed so long ago."

Feeling the confused silence of his people settle heavily on his shoulders, Frederic hesitated to speak again; it was only when Queen Arianna put her hand comfortingly on his upper arm that he found the strength.

"Old Corona has, for some time, been plagued by the growth of the black rocks," Frederic stated. "The presence of the rocks…is my doing. Nineteen years ago, when my wife Arianna was ailing from childbirth, I sought the magic flower of legend, said to have grown from a sundrop. I was warned that removing the flower would come at a cost, but I paid it no heed. From the place where the flower once grew, the rocks erupted and began to consume Corona from the outside in. You have me to blame for their presence, and I do apologize for all of the complication this has wrought upon our kingdom.

"Furthermore, a citizen of Old Corona was denied help when he needed it most. I do not believe this was out of any fault of the royal family, but all the same, he felt a sincere sense of betrayal. The battle of Old Corona ensued when he…lashed out against the royal family. And due to my involvement in the destruction of his home, I could not say it was entirely unfounded. He has since been taken into custody, and we are attempting to give him the help he sorely needs. During his outburst, however, he stole and destroyed the remains of the magic flower in a fruitless attempt to break through the stone. Failing that, he turned to Rapunzel herself. She is all right, and was in fact instrumental in bringing the battle to its end. That, however, brings me to my next announcement.

"You will not be seeing the princess within the kingdom's walls for some time. She has departed, along with trusted companions, on a journey to discover her destiny. Only time will tell what she will accomplish, though I am of no doubt that it will be something truly great. I do not know when she will return. I only know that she will, in fact, return. And when she does, I am certain she will have quite the story to tell.

"I will understand if you are angry with me. Goodness knows I let a situation escalate for nineteen years that should not have gone unchecked. Henceforth, I shall put every effort into deciphering how to stop the growth of the rocks, in Old Corona and elsewhere. In the meantime, Queen Arianna and I are organizing a relocation of those whose homes have been disrupted of destroyed by the rocks to better housing. If this is a service you need, do not hesitate to submit a statement to the royal staff. Once again…I do apologize."

Frederic hadn't known what to expect. He knew he wouldn't be met with a round of applause. He had feared a cacophony of booing. What he got instead was confused murmurs among the crowd as they tried to make sense of it all. "Once more, thank you," he said before turning to re-enter the castle.

Arianna, in step beside him, told him softly, "You did great."

"I merely did what I could," Frederic told her. "In these times, it is actions that will speak louder than words."

Outside, Demyx was flabbergasted. "The flower was destroyed?" he blurted. "The whole REASON we came here ISN'T HERE ANYMORE?"

"That fucking figures," Roman sighed.

"I guess now we have no choice but to turn back," Hans sighed. "So. Who wants to make the call?"

"I will." Demyx had already retrieved his scroll. "I've had enough of this mission already."

Snatcher held up a hand. "Now, hold on," he said, his gaze fixed on empty air as thoughts raced around his mind. "Just…hold on."

"What is iiiiiiiit?" Demyx sighed.

"Mr. Snatcher," Hans asserted, "it's over."

"We're just going to have to go back empty-handed," Roman resolved.

"Aw, maaaaan, Mozenrath is gonna kill us!" Demyx groaned. "We didn't get the flower AND we didn't have a serious bonding mission! Wait. Is THAT what Snatcher's thinking about? A way to trick him into THINKING we got the flower? Yeah! We could just pick any old flower and dress it up with some paint – "

"We are NOT doing that," Snatcher interrupted. "Quite the opposite." He finally turned to look his teammates in the eye. "As far as experience among the WHAM ARMY goes," he admitted, "I am yet a novice where magic is concerned. However, several pieces of his majesty's proclamation seem to be falling into place quite nicely…yes, quite nicely indeed. After all, the compass has still been pointing a definite direction. The flower may be gone, but the sundrop most certainly is not. I do wonder…" He lowered his gaze a moment, considering what he had just theorized. "I wonder. How likely is it…?"

"Just spit it out, old-timer!" Demyx blurted.

Snatcher chose to ignore the insult; Roman was in no mood to jump to his defense. "Consider this," Snatcher said. "That flower was used to make a healing brew of sorts for the queen when she was in labor with the young princess. Once the flower's essence was ingested, the girl was born. Of course she was, you might say. How else would you expect things to turn out? Either that, or the queen dies. Yes, all a very obvious conclusion. And yet…

"This rebel citizen who caused so much upheaval, in what are still very vague terms that cause me to doubt this speech's validity as anything but pure propaganda, sought after what remained of that flower, did he not? If his majesty is telling the truth, that flower was destroyed in the process. Now, we may have simply been fed a convenient lie. Assuming, however, that we have not, we now are left with a fascinating observation. This citizen's goal was to procure the sundrop. After destroying the flower, he turns to the girl. The girl becomes instrumental in whatever scheme this citizen attempted to carry out.

"And finally, the girl has as of late disappeared in order to fulfill some sort of destiny. Everyone's taking this quite well, not questioning a thing. Which begs the question: what sets this girl apart from everyone else? What could possibly tie this girl to a destiny that no one else has? Considering the timing of the flower and the scheming of the rebel citizen, I've come upon a theory. Again, I'm no expert when it comes to magic. But say when her majesty consumed the flower's essence, its powers were transferred to the girl. What if our sundrop is no longer a plant…but a person?"

Roman, Hans, and Demyx regarded Snatcher in stunned silence for a moment. Then Demyx said, "You better not have come up with a reason that we need to go on a stupid cross-country trip to find that princess."

"Mr. Demyx," Snatcher urged, "you out of all of us are most familiar with the magical arts. Would such a theory as the one I've posed be possible?"

All eyes turned to Demyx, who uttered a "Nyyyeeeeehhhhh…" as he weighed the pros and cons of giving his opinion. On one hand, he really wanted to just give up and go back to base. On the other… "It actually sounds possible."

"The compass does point somewhere," Hans agreed. "It could be pointing to her."

Roman just gave a noncommittal shrug. So he'd decided to opt for the silent treatment, Snatcher thought bitterly.

"Just a bit more information," Snatcher muttered. "What I found in the library seems to corroborate, but I require only a bit more – "

"Wait, wait, wait," Hans broke in. "What did you find in the library?"

"Well," Snatcher explained, "I hadn't thought much of it at the time. I'd already read through quite a bit of Corona history at that point, not sure which was relevant and which was not. Some irregular weather patterns, some wars, the like. I only made a brief note of each, focusing on relevance to our sundrop. It now appears I may have read exactly what I needed to without realizing it. The book I had couldn't have been more than twenty years old – no, given the proclamation, nineteen. Its last chapters spoke of the 'lost princess.' A girl born to the royal family and then taken away by some mysterious kidnapper. And yet it seems that girl made it back home for her nineteenth birthday. Such peculiar circumstances only convince me that my theory is indeed correct."

"This is actually sounding more and more probable," Hans admitted.

"I didn't want a roooooad triiiiiip," Demyx moaned.

"I did want to know more about the kidnapper," Snatcher muttered. "And the place to find that out would be…gentlemen, follow me!"

He took off at a brisk walk down through the city. Hans, Demyx, and Roman, all puzzled, followed him until they reached a mosaic mural expertly set into a wall. "Admirers," Snatcher said by way of explanation, approaching some of the people looking at the mural. The image depicted the king and queen holding a baby with striking blonde hair.

"Why would she be blonde?" Demyx wondered out loud.

"If she had sun magic in her," Hans proposed. "I kid you not, my first experience with magic was with someone who had power over snow and ice, and her hair was stark WHITE."

Roman just gave another shrug. His gaze then wandered over the square, seeking out something only he knew he was looking for.

"What's eating him?" Demyx wondered out loud.

"Okay, this time, I actually DIDN'T do anything," Hans said defensively.

Snatcher sidled in among the observers of the mural, slipping into casual conversation with one woman; "And to think we almost didn't get her back where she belonged. Nasty business, that kidnapping. Wouldn't want to run into that one at night. The kidnapper, not the princess."

"Oh, I agree," the woman said with a nod.

"What was that one's name, again?" Snatcher went on. "Something grisly."

"'Gothel,'" the woman confirmed. "It was 'Gothel.'"

"Yes, quite grisly, that," Snatcher commented. "Was it ever learned why her highness was taken?"

"Well, you know the rumors," the woman said.

"As they are rumors," Snatcher replied, "they seem to have escaped my ear."

"Well," the woman explained, "some people say Princess Rapunzel's hair had the power to heal any injury, just like the flower did. That's why it grew so quickly and changed color after she came back home, you know? But no one can prove it."

"Intriguing," Snatcher commented. "But surely, a bit far-fetched."

"You never know," the woman said cryptically. "After all, it turned out Lord Demanitus' machine was real."

Snatcher hadn't read about that one in his brief skim of history. It must have been a legend, which had been Hans' department to read about. "That it did," he agreed, backing away slowly.

Once he rejoined his companions, he hissed, "Did you hear? Magical, GOLDEN hair that could cure any ailment! Our sundrop is that girl!"

"Please tell me her destiny isn't far away," Demyx groaned.

"I have to admit," Hans said, "you actually hit upon something useful there. I'm pleasantly surprised."

"It should come as no surprise whatsoever," Snatcher stated. "You'll learn that after we've spent more time together. In the meantime, we've an expedition to plot. And furthermore, perhaps we can make use of what else we've learned. Particularly the name 'Gothel.'"

"Do you know how much I hate the word 'expedition'?" Demyx cried.

"Oh, do calm down," Snatcher groaned. "It isn't as though we'll be walking. We'll need horses. Purloined horses. Torchwick – "

"Yeah, yeah, I can steal a horse," Roman huffed.

"Four horses, to be exact," Snatcher clarified.

"Whatever," Roman retorted.

"Trouble in paradise?" Demyx said softly to Hans, though not softly enough to escape Snatcher's detection.

"You mind your own business," Snatcher snapped at them both.

"Hey, as long as you're making me actually do stuff," Demyx pointed out, "I bet I could get you into the nearest stable without anyone noticing."

"I'll take you up on that, Dishwater," Roman replied. "Just as soon as I finish doing a little shopping."

"A splendid idea," Snatcher noted. "Who knows how long we'll be riding? We'll need provisions. Enough to last four people several days. Or…perhaps five."

"Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?" Hans asked. "Because I was kind of thinking the same thing, weirdly enough. Either I just got stupid or you're on an actual roll."

"Mr. Westergard," Snatcher admonished, "can you not find even one genuine compliment in that rotted husk you call a heart?"

"I prefer FROZEN heart," Hans corrected. "Also, how exactly are we going to pay for all the stuff we're going to need?"

"Um…" Roman reminded him, "we don't."

"Master thief, remember?" Demyx chipped in. "No one will even notice their stuff's gone until it's too late."

"And for the stores that are watching their shelves too closely," Roman added, "you can be sure there are enough people who aren't doing the same to their pockets. What we can't pay for, the good people of Corona will!"

"This is actually starting to sound fun," Demyx admitted.

"Of course it'll be fun!" Roman insisted.

"Yeah, but you're usually a major killjoy," Demyx stated.

"Not today, Dishwater," Roman replied. "Not today. Anyway, we are burning daylight right now."

"Let's go!" Demyx cried.

"And where exactly are we to meet?" Snatcher asked.

"Right back here in an hour," Roman decided. "You two…do whatever you want, I guess."

He and Demyx took off, disappearing into the everyday crowd.

"So now what?" Hans asked. "We open up about our feelings to each other? Try and figure out what we have in common?"

"We split up and cover ground," Snatcher told him. "We're seeking the kingdom's stables, and the best horses to boot. We'll get further working separately than we will together."

"I was afraid for a minute you were gonna think I was serious about the opening-up thing," Hans admitted in relief.

They parted ways as well.

After Roman slipped the first coin purse beneath his jacket, he spotted the exact shop he'd been seeking. He meant to bring an end to his disagreement with Snatcher once and for all, and he knew just how to win. It would not, however, be pretty.

...

The ones who ended up in the hourglass chamber were Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, Stork, Jasmine, Katara, Kazuichi, Leon, and Merlin; Riku and Aladdin, having already decided they trusted Kazuichi's word, had gone off with the others to make beach plans. Leon and Merlin, however, knew they needed to see the hourglass' answer, and Merlin was ever the one to decipher it. Merlin kicked things off with an enormous bolt of lightning struck to the hourglass' gem.

Once the sands had begun whirling, Leon commanded, "Ask your question."

Kazuichi stared, wide-eyed, at the completely inexplicable device before him. "Just…ask it a question? Like, out loud?"

"Not you," Leon said sternly. "Someone we actually trust is going to ask it."

Sora stepped forward, and no one argued with him being the one to inquire. "Who is Kazuichi Soda working with?" he asked the hourglass.

The sands shifted, revealing an image of the dining hall of the Jabberwock Island hotel. The picture painted was a morose one. Fuyuhiko sat at the table, head down on his folded arms. Hajime paced back and forth, deep in thought. Akane was trying very vehemently to say something to Sonia, though the lack of any audio on the part of the hourglass prevented the audience from knowing what. A clue, however, was the fact that Sonia's face was streaked with tears: tears that were still flowing.

"It's them!" Kazuichi cried, surging forward to get a better look, his hood falling down in the process. "It's Hajime and Fuyuhiko and Akane and…and Miss Sonia…" He neared the hourglass enough to touch it. "She's crying," he realized, reaching out to press his palm to the vision of her face. "She's actually crying over me." He was touched, actually happy for a moment before realizing that he was taking pleasure in her sadness, which brought his own mood crashing down. He pivoted back around on his working leg; "I have to get back to her! I have to tell her I'm okay!"

"The sooner you do that, the sooner we all get what we want," Merlin huffed. "Now, my good hourglass, show us this young man's homeworld."

The vision instantly changed, taking away the images of the four survivors of Jabberwock and replacing them with scenes of fire, rioting crowds, skies black with ash, and looming above all, the visual of a toy bear, half black and half white, its left eye a jagged lightning-bolt shape.

"So it's THAT bear," Merlin muttered.

"You know about Monokuma?" Kazuichi said in awe.

"Monokuma, is it?" Merlin repeated. "I never bothered to find out if that wretched thing had a name. The world it's from isn't a large one on the radar. No fonts of magic to be found there. But I have visited it at several points in its history, and it is a curious world, to be sure. One moment, it seems to be an ordinary civilization, and but a few years into the future, it's all gone to the dogs, as you can see from the hourglass. I've yet to determine what exactly happened, but that bear showed up when everything went wrong. I wouldn't want to cross paths with whatever villain orchestrated this catastrophe…for THEIR sake."

Kazuichi felt his limbs tremble at that. No, it hadn't been his idea, but he'd still had a pretty big hand in it.

"And it seems you've got to bring him back to after its destruction," Merlin lamented. "I wouldn't stay long."

"How awful," Jasmine remarked. "We're just supposed to leave you there on a world that's falling apart?"

"Yeah, well, my friends are there," Kazuichi insisted. "They're all I have. And Miss Sonia is there."

"I get that," Sora said. "I'd go anywhere to be with my friends."

"THEN AGAIN," Papyrus pointed out, "SORA HAS FRIENDS JUST ABOUT EVERYWHERE!"

"Then it's settled," Merlin decided. "I'll have coordinates drawn up, and you can drop this young man off on your way to…to…blast, where was it you were going, again?"

"We hadn't decided," Sora replied. He then turned to Ruby; "Do you wanna keep chasing Cinder?"

Ruby shook her head. "When we did that, then Mozenrath showed up and made things worse. He even apparently beat Cinder. I think it's more important to find him and stop him before he hurts someone else."

"If we hadn't been there to take care of Midna…" Katara began.

"Let's not go there," Stork halted.

"We still haven't figured out what Mozenrath is even after," Jasmine reminded the group.

"Um…so…I'm new here," Kazuichi broke in, "but if you don't know something, why not ask this thing? It seems to have all the answers."

"We tried that," Sora explained. "The vision was just…black. Like nothingness."

"Which can't mean anything good," Stork commented.

"THEN IT'S SETTLED," Papyrus declared. "WE ARE GOING AFTER MOZENRATH!"

"Okay, so I should probably ask," Kazuichi broke in. "What's a Mozenrath? Does it have anything to do with the Nort people?"

"No," Sora replied, "he's different."

"Mozenrath is a sorcerer who's been tormenting multiple worlds so he can collect magic," Jasmine explained. "He came from Aladdin's and my world, and he used to work all on his own there. But then he somehow got people working for him."

"OR WORKING WITH HIM," Papyrus corrected. "I GET THE FEELING THEY ARE FRIENDS."

"Mozenrath doesn't have friends," Jasmine argued.

"We've been following him from world to world," Sora summed up. "The six of us have kinda been in charge of going after him."

"If he's that big of a problem," Kazuichi asked, "don't you think you should be sending more than six people? You have a whole castle here!"

"The problem is we already know we're stronger than him," Katara explained. "He just keeps getting away in time."

"I think this is getting into the territory of telling things we don't want told," Leon broke in.

"Suffice to say Mozenrath is one of many, MANY world-hopping evildoers we've been trying to stop," Stork concluded.

"This just keeps getting crazier," Kazuichi commented. "I thought shit was real on my world, but this is a whole other level!"

"So…Mozenrath?" Ruby confirmed.

"MOZENRATH," Papyrus agreed.

The sands were still portraying the montage of destruction that covered Kazuichi's homeworld. Sora took another step forward, asking clearly, "What does Mozenrath's group want to take now?"

The picture changed yet again to the silhouette of a castle superimposed on a brilliant violet background with a golden sun emblazoned on it like a flag's heraldic symbol. The castle then faded, the purple shifted to blue, and the sun became a realistic sun upon a cloudless sky. A single drop of light fell from that sun, and the vision tracked its fall through the air until it hit the earth and sprouted in the shape of a flower.

"Now, that is a simpler answer!" Merlin declared. "You're looking for the sundrop of Corona!"

"You know what we're gonna ask," Stork replied.

"A long time ago," Merlin explained, "there was a cosmic upheaval over Corona. I won't bore you with the details, but a single sundrop fell to the earth. Legend says it sprouted as a flower that could heal any affliction, and from what I know, that legend is absolutely true. It simply hasn't been proven because no one has found the flower, or at least found it and disclosed its location. Or have they? Hmm…I haven't been to Corona in quite a while. Things may have changed. In any case, if Mozenrath gets his hands on that sundrop, he will at the very least have the power to cure himself of any injury. Perhaps he could permanently reverse the effects of the gauntlet. But with such pure life force, there may be even more he could do with it that we do not know. You mustn't let it fall into his hands!"

"You can count on us!" Sora declared.

"Yeah," Stork snorted, "just like you could count on us to save every other thing Mozenrath already stole."

"This really sounds bad," Kazuichi commented.

"I know we failed a lot of other times," Sora reiterated, "but we won't this time!"

"AND WE WILL DEFINITELY FAIL IF WE DO NOT TRY!" Papyrus asserted.

"Very well," Merlin declared. "I will write you up coordinates both for our young stranger's homeworld and Corona. Until then, I believe you have a beach outing to plan."

"That's right!" Sora remembered. "The beach!"

"I just remembered I don't have anything to wear to the beach!" Ruby cried.

"Yeah, I'm not getting in the water," Stork huffed. "I will be wearing what I'm wearing right now, thank you very much."

"Well, I could use a change in clothes for this," Katara stated.

Ruby gasped. "WE CAN ALL GO SHOPPING TOGETHER!"

"THAT SOUNDS LIKE FUN!" Papyrus agreed.

"It definitely does," Jasmine concurred.

"We should definitely go!" Katara proclaimed.

"Eh, why not?" Stork shrugged. "I'm still not changing, but I'll tag along."

Kazuichi was just wondering what was to become of him when Sora turned to him and asked, "So, how about it, Kazuichi?"

"Huh?" Kazuichi was taken aback.

"You're coming with us, right?" Sora asked. "To get something to wear to the beach. Or, you know, just to wear in general besides that Organization coat."

"That would be nice," Kazuichi admitted.

"Then come with us!" Sora encouraged. "We'll find you the perfect outfit!"

What Kazuichi wanted was his yellow-green jumpsuit. He severely doubted he would be able to locate anything like that again. However, he was quite glad to have been invited along by the few people who seemed not to want to pack him up and ship him home immediately. "Okay!" he resolved, confidence growing. "I'm in! Engines revving!"

"TO THE TOWN!" Ruby cried, speeding out of the room at an accelerated rate and leaving a trail of rose petals in her wake. She then turned around and zoomed right back into the room. "Right," she recalled out loud. Pointing to Kazuichi, she reiterated, "Can't run." Then to Sora, Papyrus, Stork, Jasmine, and Katara, "Don't have speed Semblance."

All six nodded slowly.

"We'll walk," Ruby declared.

...

Hans and Snatcher returned to the mural with news of stables; they compared, and it turned out, to Snatcher's chagrin, that Hans had located a source closer to the edge of town (making the theft easier) and with stronger-seeming horses than what Snatcher had found.

Within time, Demyx showed up, carrying large canvas bags full of supplies. "I think I got everything we need," he announced. "I got food, I got soap…"

"Where are we going to have the opportunity to use soap on a horseback journey across a low-technology world?" Snatcher asked.

"Of course you wouldn't think the soap was important," Hans commented. "You hardly do in your daily life anyway."

"I'll have you know, I have increased bathing dramatically since being given access to better facilities," Snatcher argued.

"I'm hearing 'increased,'" Hans replied. "I'm not hearing 'do it every day.'"

"As though I want you picturing me in such a state anyhow," Snatcher grumbled.

"I wasn't picturing you in the bath," Hans clarified, "but then you said that, and now I have a mental image I will have to live with having pictured for the rest of my life. So thanks for that."

"Can someone at least help me carry these bags?" Demyx moaned. "They're getting heavy."

"Okay," Hans resolved, taking a few of the bags from Demyx.

"You can hold more," Demyx encouraged.

"I already have half of them," Hans pointed out. "You can carry half of what you had."

"Oh, fine," Demyx grunted, kicking a loose pebble. "I should've known you'd all make me do the grunt work."

"Mr. Westergard is carrying half of your bags!" Snatcher growled. "That is hardly you doing the grunt work!"

"Yeah, well, you're not carrying any of the bags!" Demyx argued right back.

"He's probably waiting to take them all off Roman," Hans stated. "Watch ROMAN be the one who doesn't have to carry any bags."

"We will all do our equal share," Snatcher asserted.

That was when Roman turned up, carrying about as many bags as Demyx had – but also a small white box held gently in one hand as bag handles were looped over that arm. "Well," Roman declared, "I have procured us quite the haul. Oh, and Archie, I thought about what you said earlier, and I've come to a conclusion." He set down the bags, carefully keeping the small box aloft while removing the handles from his arm.

Snatcher was surprised that Roman was bringing up the topic in front of Hans and Demyx. "And what conclusion, exactly, did you come to?" he asked.

"Well," Roman said with a smirk, already plotting how he was to execute the blow, "you asked me to either treat you like a grown-up or stop talking to you. So I thought it over and I ultimately decided I'm going to treat you like a grown-up. You make your own decisions. Of COURSE you know what's best for you. Why should I ever doubt that?"

There was something altogether too amused in Roman's tone. Still, Snatcher bade him, "Go on…"

"Was this supposed to be some kind of private discussion?" Hans wondered out loud.

"Look, it's all gonna be okay after this," Roman said. "I promise. Anyway, Archie, while I was out and about, I got you a present. I spent a lot of time trying to find the exact right one." He offered the box.

Snatcher swatted it away from Roman, taking it into his own hands. Roman was playing some sort of game, he knew, and it involved the contents of the box. He gently pried open the lid to behold what was inside…

"Doesn't that just look delicious?" Roman egged on. "It's one of those tasty little delicacy bries! You know, one of those things that costs waaaaaay too much for that little bit of cheese, but it doesn't matter, since the money wasn't mine anyway? I thought you might want one. Now, if there's any problem at all, say, any reason you couldn't eat it, just say the word and I won't get my feelings hurt. But if there isn't, well, I did go out of my way to get this for you, and if you just threw it out without a good reason, I would be very, VERY upset."

So that was the trick, Snatcher thought. Well, it wouldn't work. Largely because – he still clung to this thought tightly, despite reservations beginning to creep into his mind – there wasn't a problem at all. "I quite appreciate your thoughtfulness, Torchwick," Snatcher declared, flashing a smug smile of his own.

"So?" Roman prompted. "You wanna…let me know how it tastes?"

Without hesitation, Snatcher took a rather ungraceful bite out of the brie. The other lie he had always told himself was that cheese tasted good enough to be considered a delicacy in the first place, when in truth, if he really wanted to stop and think about it, he would categorize it on a sliding scale of "not noteworthy" to "rather disgusting, really." This brie was a prime example of the former. If Snatcher had been truly honest with himself, it did taste good, but not in the way that one would want to acquire much more of it. However, he wasn't being honest with himself, and so it was practically a script he read from when he spoke, mouth full: "Now that is quite delicious. One can vaguely make out a hint of…of…fine taste." He swallowed, taking another bite.

Demyx's eyes widened; Snatcher's lower lip was already beginning to swell. "Um," Demyx began, "are you oka – "

"Not now, Dishwater," Roman said hurriedly.

"One can definitely tell this is in the upper tier of the food of the elite," Snatcher went on, ignoring the itching that had suddenly broken out all along his neck.

Hans, observing the rash of rapidly growing hives, flinched and gave an inaudible "Yeesh."

"Most certainly, a cheese of the most well-respected men," Snatcher continued, finishing off the brie entirely and discarding the box by simply letting it fall to the ground before he stomped on it. "An exceptional find, Torchwick. Now, shall we proceed onward to the stables? I do believe Mr. Westergard has found what we need." His hand free, he now began to scratch at the hives; by this time, the swelling had affected half his face. At the same time, he began to walk away, headed in the general direction of the stable Hans had indicated a while ago.

Demyx, Hans, and Roman stood together as they watched him leave. "I do not have a good feeling about this," Demyx said in a quivering tone.

Roman placed one arm around Demyx's shoulders and the other around Hans' in a playful manner. "Don't worry about it, boys," he said smugly. "Just sit back and watch the fireworks."

...

Ruby had the self-control to walk all the way into town, making sure her six companions could keep up.

"All right," Sora declared when the group had entered the town proper. "I say the first order of business is getting Kazuichi a new set of clothes."

"I think that's the best idea," Jasmine agreed. "I'm just guessing, but I don't think you want to be wearing what Xehanort and his people gave you."

"Fuck no," Kazuichi confirmed. "Also, I know this kind of tight leather is sexy in theory, but it's really uncomfortable to move around in!"

"I hear it gets better once you wear it for a while," Sora commented, thinking of what Lea, Mickey, and Riku had all had to say on the subject. "Anyway, what DO you want to wear?"

"Well, nothing too fancy," Kazuichi declared. "Something casual. And actually comfortable. Something I can get dirty, too. Are they even going to take my money here?" It then occurred to him: "I don't actually have any money."

"Don't worry about that," Sora reassured him. "This one's on me!"

"I couldn't let you do that!" Kazuichi said in surprise.

"Well, if you don't let me buy you what you want," Sora threatened, "then I'll pick something out FOR you and spend my money anyway!"

"You talked me into it," Kazuichi said with a grin that showed off his sharp teeth. "Can I ask for one favor, though?"

"Sure!" Sora replied.

"I don't wanna make you go overboard on me or anything," Kazuichi said, "but I really would like a hat. I'm just too used to wearing one."

"Then you get a hat!" Sora declared. "Hmm. Now where should we start? This is kinda the fancy district because it's so close to the castle. If you really want something casual, it's gonna be a bit of a walk. You gonna be okay?"

"Believe me, I've gone on plenty of walks with this leg," Kazuichi told him. "I'm slow, but I can keep going for a while."

"Great!" Sora cried. "Then let's go!"

As the group set out, Ruby decided to poke the elephant in the room: "So, uh…speaking of that…can I ask how it happened?"

"What, you mean my leg?" Kazuichi clarified.

"Ruby!" Katara scolded. "You can't just ask about things like that!"

"No, no," Kazuichi assured, "it's…it's fine. I'm just not sure you're gonna like the story."

"Is it gross?" Ruby asked. "Because I can handle gross stories."

"No, it's…" Kazuichi found his gaze meeting the cobblestones he trod upon. "It's not that…"

"You really don't have to tell us," Katara insisted.

"We can talk about something else," Jasmine agreed.

"No," Kazuichi resolved. "You guys went out of your way to save me, and you don't even know the first thing about me. I can't let you keep on doing nice things for me without knowing the truth!"

"Nothing good EVER follows those words!" Stork cried. Then, in a complete change of demeanor, complete with smirk, "So, let's hear it."

Kazuichi inhaled deeply. There was no real way to prepare for what he was about to say. "So, uh…you know how that wizard guy said he didn't know what happened to fuck up my world?"

"Ohhhh, this is already just as bad as I thought it would be," Stork said in a bemused tone.

"Well, uh…" Kazuichi admitted, "I know how it happened. And I'm…kind of…involved."

"WHAT?" Sora, Ruby, and Papyrus all cried at once.

"I'm sure it's not as bad as it sounds!" Katara said immediately to try and smooth the situation. "Why don't you tell us from the beginning?"

"From the beginning?" Kazuichi repeated. "Well, it started out when I got scouted for Hope's Peak Academy. It's this really big-shot high school – okay, it WAS this really big-shot high school where everybody who went there was the best at something. Like, I got picked out to go there because back home, I'm the Ultimate Mechanic. The class I got put into was a little weird. We tried to act like a normal high school class, but at first, we didn't really get along that well. Turns out pretty much everyone there had some kind of fucked-up life and that made it hard to get really close to each other."

"You had a hard time growing up?" Katara singled out. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but…now I'm curious."

"Well, my dad wasn't the greatest guy," Kazuichi explained. "He kinda stuck me with all the grunt work in our shop 'cause I was so much younger. Scared me sometimes, too. He would always get so mad about things, and when he did…" Somehow, explaining this part was more difficult than talking about Hope's Peak. "Bad things happened."

"He hurt you," Jasmine realized.

"Not all the time," Kazuichi said hurriedly. "Just…just enough to make me feel like I had to be careful. But it was okay when I was in middle school, because I had the greatest friend ever, I thought. He was always so cool and confident, and we talked about our dreams all the time, like how I was gonna work on rocket ships. Then he cheated off me for a big exam, and we got caught. I totally took the fall, because I was ready to do that, y'know? That's what you do for good friends. But then he just stopped talking to me. That was when I first realized you couldn't count on people.

"Anyway, a lot of the others at Hope's Peak had it worse. Man, I don't even know half the shit that happened to Mikan, but it fucked her up real bad. She was always crying and acting submissive to people, and it freaked me out. I felt bad for her, but I was too wrapped up in my own problems to ever do anything about it. We all were. We ended up making friends, but nobody ever offered to listen to anyone else's life story or help them out.

"That's when Junko Enoshima happened. She came in the year after we did, in the calss after us. We all thought it was weird that she wanted to hang out with us so much, but, hey, we were the cool upperclassmen, right? And she was real fun to be around. Like, you couldn't meet her and not like her. She knew just how to act to get everyone interested. Like around me, she always asked me to talk about stuff like engines and rockets and tanks because that's the stuff I liked.

"And that's when things started going bad. Fuyuhiko's sister got killed, and I think that's what set it off. I guess it turned out some reserve course kid who was friends with Mahiru did it? But I wouldn't be surprised if Junko was involved somehow. That got us all stirred up, and that was when Junko started talking to me about despair. How it was okay to feel despair, because that's what the world was made of. Nobody trusted each other after that girl died, and I know Fuyuhiko and Mahiru stopped getting along after that, so somebody figured out something. It just confirmed what I knew all along about people. And Junko agreed with me! She said you really couldn't trust anyone, and I was right about that from the start! The weird part is, that's what made me trust HER above all the others."

"What about Sonia?" Ruby asked. "I saw the way you touched that magical projection of her!"

"Well, I've always loved Miss Sonia," Kazuichi admitted. "She and I just didn't get a chance to hang out much. Junko actually used that against me later on, too. She said Sonia never loved me, and wouldn't love me. But Junko claimed SHE did, and by that time, I was already too deep into her bullshit, and we, uh…well, we…I didn't know I wasn't the only person she tried that trick on. Telling 'em she loved 'em, I mean. And everything that went with that. Even if I did know, it wouldn't have mattered, 'cause I really thought she could love all of us. And I thought she was hot, too! Boy, was that a mistake.

"I'm getting ahead of myself. She teamed up with this guy Izuru, who I guess was Hope's Peak's secret science experiment to see if you could give someone every talent at once. And it worked, but the problem was he stopped acting like a human once he got all that talent. He didn't know how to be nice or have emotions anymore. He was basically a monster. Then Junko got her twin sister Mukuro on board. That girl was the Ultimate Soldier – "

"What was Junko's talent?" Ruby asked. "Ultimate Manipulator?"

"Fashionista," Kazuichi answered. "Like a supermodel."

"You're telling me this giant end-the-world scheme was put together by a supermodel," Stork clarified.

"Yeah," Kazuichi affirmed. "I am."

Stork shrugged. "I've heard weirder."

"So anyway," Kazuichi went on, "Junko, Mukuro, and Izuru decided they wanted despair to be the only thing that mattered in the world. I still don't know how they did it, but they got our student council to murder each other. Actually, maybe I do have an idea of how they did it. Because Junko got so close to me and made me feel so loved that if she told me to kill myself, I totally would.

"That was the start of it. They called it the 'Tragedy.' It was the biggest, most awful, most despair-inducing event in human history. Because at first, it was just the student council. Then when the entire school started freaking out, Junko and her goons played off that and made them start riots. She acted like she was a champion of the underdogs for the Reserve Course, and after she made them all into her personal army, she made them all commit suicide! How fucked up is that?

"But then there was…my class. I think she picked mine instead of hers because her classmates were actually well-adjusted. We were fucked up. It was easier to convince us that despair was all that mattered. She wore us down and talked us all into losing faith in humanity. That's when she told us she was taking her whole despair scheme to the world, and she wanted our help. Because we were special. We were all her 'dearest friends.' What a fucking lie. But we bought it. I bought it. And the next thing you know, I'm making machines that are built to destroy cities.

"When Hope's Peak fell, the rest of the world started going with it. Part of it was because Hope's Peak was supposed to be such a big deal, and if it went down, then nothing was safe. But Junko and the rest of us Ultimate Despairs – her, Mukuro, Izuru, and my class – we went around the world and stirred up riots. We told people, if the Reserve Course could rise up and overthrow the upper class, why couldn't you? But we set it up so they were never really organized, and we said violence was the only way. Then we went and armed the other side. That got everyone to fight each other and just end up dying all around."

Ruby said "It's just like Beacon" at the same time that Sora said "She sounds like Snatcher." The two exchanged a surprised look.

"Is it really the same story on so many worlds?" Jasmine said worriedly.

"That isn't even the worst part of it, though," Kazuichi said mournfully. "Junko's class back at Hope's Peak, the actual not-messed-up kids, they just barricaded themselves inside the school to live in there. Which was a good idea. But Junko made sure she got locked in with them. Nobody actually knew she was the one who started everything, so they just assumed she was there to live with her friends. That's when she set up the…the killing game." His throat caught for a moment, and he forced himself to keep talking. "She broadcast it to the world. She made everyone in the school think they needed to escape and that the world outside was worth getting back to. I know it sounds like bullshit, but she erased years of their memories."

"Oh, trust me," Sora said, "I know about memory loss. That isn't far-fetched at all!"

"She gave those kids motives to kill each other off," Kazuichi continued. "They were all in her class. They coulda been her friends! They THOUGHT they were her friends! But she got them to kill each other. And if you got caught doing a murder, then you had to be executed. She…she needed machines for that. A lot of machines. She wanted to kill the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader with a super-fast bike, and the Ultimate Programmer with a setup that looked like a giant video game…" His voice became almost inaudible. "The fire truck hitting the Ultimate Gambler was my idea. Junko just wanted to burn her, but I said we should use the fire truck."

"You built all of those machines," Katara realized in shock.

"Yeah," Kazuichi finally confessed. "I basically killed 'em that way. I mean, it wasn't like I hadn't already killed a ton of people. Junko asked me to prove I was loyal to her by doing one murder in particular, and I was already mad at my dad for being so shitty, so I – "

The gasps from his companions silenced Kazuichi for a moment. He said in a whisper, "I should probably stop now."

"But it can't end there!" Ruby cried. "You're so nice now! How'd that happen?"

"Well…first, Junko died," Kazuichi explained, his tone meek. "The guys in the killing game figured her out and turned against her. She was the one who decided to kill herself, though. We Despairs were all marathonning the game to have some fun together, but when we saw her die, we kinda lost it. We salvaged her corpse. We took it apart. Some of us…some of us took pieces of her and…added them to our own bodies so she would live on with us. I have her leg. That should answer your first question."

"So let me get this straight," Stork reiterated. "You cut off your own right leg, stitched on a DEAD WOMAN'S LEG in its place, and built that brace so you could use it to walk."

"Yeah," Kazuichi confirmed. "That's what happened."

"I am simultaneously impressed and nauseous," Stork stated proudly.

"After Junko died," Kazuichi went on, "then the guy who brought her down in the killing game tracked us all down. His name's Makoto, and he's the greatest. He knew deep down, the Ultimate Despairs were all fucked-up people who needed a second shot. So he rounded up my class and Izuru and put – "

"Waaaaiiit," Ruby broke in. "What happened to Mukuro?"

"Well, she was in Junko's class," Kazuichi explained, "so she got killed in the game too. Junko actually pulled the trigger on her. Or the Spears of Gungnir. It's complicated. But we all thought it was a hilarious twist when Junko killed her own sister. Makes me sick now."

"So what did Makoto do to you?" Sora asked.

"Well, he put us all in a coma and sent us to this virtual island that was supposed to be like a paradise," Kazuichi explained. "We all got our memories erased so it was like we were meeting each other all over again. We were supposed to be brought back into the real world after we made friends with each other and rehabiliatated from despair. That's when we found out Izuru was actually a pretty chill guy. His real name's Hajime Hinata, and he's the guy who taught me that you actually really can count on your friends. That's how it's supposed to be.

"But Junko ended up getting into the virtual world, too. She had an AI stored away and released it. That's when she turned on us, her own Ultimate Despairs, and made US kill each other for her own entertainment. And also so she could take over the bodies of the dead people. The thing is, the people who died in the virtual world weren't totally dead. Just their minds. Their bodies are fine, and Hajime thinks that there's a way to get them back and wake them up. Anyway, five of us got out alive. Me and the other four you saw in that hourglass thing. Thank God Miss Sonia survived it! Now that Junko's out of the way, we can get to know each other better, and I know I love her for real!"

"I'm sure you two can make each other happy," Jasmine commented.

"Yeah," Kazuichi replied. "I just have to get to the part where…she actually loves me back. But it'll happen! I know it will! Anyway, it's just been the five of us on the island. Makoto's been helping us readjust, but the government kinda hates us because of what we did to the world. And the thing is…there are days when I still feel like despair is the only choice. But I know I don't want to be what I was with Junko. I don't wanna hurt people again! I've…already killed so many people. I can't…"

He had stopped walking. The others all looked sympathetically to him; his eyes were cast down to the ground.

"And that's the truth," Kazuichi concluded. "I helped fuck up the world. I don't know if I actually deserve to be saved by all of you. You…you're REAL HEROES. You've never done anything bad in your lives."

"Except for the time my ship got blown up," Stork admitted, "so I murdered an entire Terra's worth of Raptors and tried to kill myself without letting anyone else I knew know."

"We know a lot of people who've done bad things," Sora said encouragingly, thinking of Lea, of Ienzo, of Aeleus, and especially of Riku. "But people don't have to stay bad. People can change. I know it. And a lot of those people who did bad things are doing good now."

"THERE'S ALWAYS A CHANCE TO DO BETTER," Papyrus insisted. "WHAT YOU DID IN THE PAST DEFINITELY WASN'T GOOD. BUT I DON'T BELIEVE THAT'S WHO YOU ARE NOW! NOT ONE BIT! AND IF IT WERE, I WOULD STILL GIVE YOU A CHANCE TO CHANGE!"

"You really don't seem like the kind of person who would murder other people," Jasmine added. "Maybe you were then, but I don't get that impression from you now at all."

"The only way to really know whether or not we can trust you is to get to know you," Katara added. "That's why I want to get to know you a lot better."

"We don't hate you, Kazuichi," Sora insisted. "I think it's a good thing we picked you up."

"IT WAS PROBABLY FATE!" Papyrus declared.

"Thanks," Kazuichi said softly, blinking rapidly to try and dispel the tears that were building up in his eyes. "You just all seem like such cool people, and I was hoping that maybe we could all be friends, but I did so much bad shit that I don't even know if we SHOULD, and now I'm talking like goddamn fucking Nagito, and that's the LAST thing I wanted, and – " He found himself unable to hold back, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve and learning how bad leather was for absorbing water. "I'm just glad you guys are willing to give me a chance."

"Of course!" Sora said with a bright smile. Then, more somberly, "But you miiiiiight wanna hold back telling any of this stuff to the others. Especially Leon and Merlin and the rest of the Committee. I don't know if they'd take that so well."

"Yeah, probably not," Kazuichi admitted. "We'll just keep this between us seven." He liked that they had a secret between them. It made him feel closer to them. He already regretted the moment he would need to part from these six, and it hadn't happened yet.

"Anyway," Sora pointed out, "we're in the less fancy district now. Just pick a store and go on in."

Kazuichi entered the nearest door, and the others followed to find a sales floor lined with shelves of nothing but crystal spheres. "I think we're in the wrong place," Ruby commented.

"Hello!" An eager salesman waved to the group from behind the counter. "Is there anything I can help you find?"

"We were just looking for clothes," Katara explained. "These are neat, but they're not what we wanted."

"Actually, if you want clothes, you've come to the right place!" the salesman said with a wide smile, approaching the group.

"I don't understand," Jasmine replied.

"You mean you don't know?" the salesman countered. "These are dresspheres! They're all the rage in fashion circles! They free up shelf space for more inventory, and they're portable! Try one out for yourself!" He picked up one of the spheres, tossing it gently. "Catch!"

Kazuichi nearly fumbled the sphere in his hands, finally getting a good grip on it. He then tapped it a couple times, wondering what he was supposed to do with it. A brilliant light surrounded him; when it cleared, his Organization cloak had been swapped out for an ensemble featuring a bright red jacket and pants, with an orange-flame-patterned tee.

"Whoa!" Kazuichi cried. "That's pretty neat! This isn't exactly my style, though."

"Of course, of course!" the salesman said with a nod. "What tickles your fancy?"

"Well, uh…" Kazuichi decided to shoot for it. "Have you got anything more like…a jumpsuit?"

"Sure thing!" The salesman soon swapped out the dressphere in Kazuichi's hand for a second. The red outfit was taken away in a brilliant flash, replaced by a shiny black jumpsuit with a stark white tee beneath it.

"That looks nice!" Katara complimented.

"Yeah, too nice," Kazuichi grumbled. "This is something some hotshot would wear. Not me. What else have you got?"

He rejected five more jumpsuits of varying colors before the salesman admitted, "Well, there is the one…"

"What one?" Kazuichi asked.

"The one no one will buy, so we have about thirty of them in stock that haven't been touched," the salesman grumbled, his smile fading. Then, realizing his mistake, he corrected himself: "The one we have an extra-special sale on, I mean!"

"I'll give it a try," Kazuichi said with a shrug.

He was handed a dressphere that changed his clothes with another brilliant flash. Once it faded, Kazuichi looked down at his newly clothed body and let out a gasp.

"I know," the salesman groaned. "I'll find you another – "

"Can I see this in the mirror?" Kazuichi asked eagerly.

"Um…sure!" the salesman replied, surprised.

Kazuichi was led to a full-length mirror where he beheld himself clad in a familiar look: a jumpsuit of yellow-green with a white shirt beneath.

"This is PERFECT!" Kazuichi's eyes sparkled. "I'll take it!"

"That, uh…" Ruby commented, "that definitely is a…color."

"It suits you!" Sora laughed.

Papyrus leaned over to Jasmine, attempting to whisper, "IT'S NOT THAT I DON'T THINK WE CAN TRUST HIM. HOWEVER, HIS FASHION SENSE IS A LITTLE SHIFTY."

"I heard that!" Kazuichi snapped.

"I take it you don't have a garment grid," the salesman guessed.

"Uh…no?" Kazuichi replied.

"They're a convenient way to store your dresspheres," the salesman explained, retrieving a small tablet bearing several hemispherical slots from behind the counter. "If you take that jumpsuit off my hands, I'll knock this down to half price."

"Sounds reasonable to me!" Sora declared.

"Man," Kazuichi remarked as the group departed the store, "I can't wait to get some new patches on this! Make it my own, y'know?"

"We still have to find you a hat," Sora remembered. "And some shoes."

"Well, one shoe," Kazuichi corrected.

"And the rest of us still need swimwear!" Ruby chimed in.

An outdoor display featuring a tree of hats caught the group's attention. As Kazuichi began placing various of the hats upon his head to test for feel, he remarked, "Every time I think I'm used to things out here, shit gets weirder. Hourglasses that show you what you want to see, actual lightning indoors, crystal balls with clothes in them…you have actual magic out here. Actual fucking magic! Talk about showing them all you're not the ordinary type." A thought occurred to him. "Hey…you remember what I said about my friends back home, right? Their minds are dead, but their bodies are still alive, and they might be locked in there somewhere. Do you think you could do anything to help them?"

"I dunno," Sora answered. "I know Riku learned how to unlock a sleeping heart. I'm not sure if it works on people who died in a virtual world, but we could always try!"

"You'd have to tell Riku the truth about us," Kazuichi reminded him.

"Oh, trust me," Sora told him, "Riku would be cool with you."

Kazuichi gasped, having located a black beanie on the lowest rung of the rack. "It's gotta be this one!" he declared.

As he and Sora moved to the payment counter, Jasmine and Stork hung back. "So, uh," Stork said tentatively, "when do you think we should tell him about the whole thing regarding our enemies coming ack-bay from the ead-day?"

"I don't see why we would need to," Jasmine replied.

"Because his Junko ended an entire world!" Stork hissed. "First of all, if her name is spelled how I think it's spelled, that's going to get awkward for me really fast."

"Why?" Jasmine asked.

"You don't picture names in your head when you're saying them?" Stork asked.

Jasmine shook her head. "No, but I believe you that you do. A lot of people probably do the same."

"Second," Stork went on, his voice going lower, "anyone with THAT MUCH POWER sounds like EXACTLY the kind of person who has been coming back from the dead to harass us on a REGULAR BASIS."

"Merlin said it wasn't a well-known world," Jasmine reminded him. "Not every villain is a threat. I'm pretty sure this one will stay dead."

"I really, really, REALLY hope you're right," Stork sighed.

...

It was already nighttime when the Huntsman arrived in New York. Keeping to the shadows and the alleys, he was partway to his previous residence when he recalled the Huntsclan weaponry that Maleficent's forces had borne into battle in Fantastica. Doubtless they had compromised at least one stronghold, and that meant the Huntsman would have to assume they had compromised them all.

He used the huntstaff to knock down the lower ladder of a fire escape, scaling it nimbly. His mind raced as he thought over his options. He had no resources and no allies remaining in this city. That could very easily be changed. He couldn't obtain weapons of the same level of technology that the Huntsclan had enjoyed, but he did know where to go in a pinch. As for allies, those would come soon enough if he put out the right word.

Putting out the right word risked it being picked up by the other side. It would doubtless also attract his enemies. But that was exactly what he wanted. Here, every enemy was also a target. If they came to battle him, he would gladly harvest the spoils.

He came to the top of the fire escape, stepping out onto the roof. No one would notice him here. He had scaled it for no strategic reason, but instead one he could almost call sentimental. It had been such a long time since he had laid eyes on the New York City skyline, glittering with thousands of lights. This city, its residents already knew was special, but most of them had no idea of exactly what secrets it held in its underground.

Could the Huntsman truly call this home? He wondered about that. For he believed it plagued, festering with magical creatures of all sorts that he did not wish to roam unchecked. And yet he had made his legacy in this city, getting to know its vast breadth and its labyrinthine corridors as he pursued his quarries. Viewing its lights again brought up a sensation within him that he hadn't expected. It was like gripping a weapon he and only he had brought into battle hundreds of times.

A flash of red caught his peripheral vision; he turned to look, then immediately bolted, descending the fire escape. There had been no mistaking it; he'd spotted the American Dragon in flight. So nothing else had gotten to him yet. That was almost satisfying; after their history, the Huntsman had rather hoped to strike that killing blow himself. He was surprised to think he had that in common with –

No. Not here. Not now. The Huntsman didn't even want to think of any of them, least of all him. This mission was to be performed divorced from the context of them entirely.

And the name of the mission had just written itself in red ink: the American Dragon. The Huntsman was confident some well-placed gossip would draw the dragon out to exactly where he wanted him. All he had to do was threaten the right creatures. And if the dragon failed to show, it would simply make the Huntsman's conquest of those creatures easier. The plan was taking shape.

The American Dragon himself, gone by the name of Jake, had already been through an interesting night; there had been a slight incident with vampires who had been framed for the workings of a chupacabra (the latter had learned to improvise in a setting with no goats). Jake had thankfully been able to put the incident to rest, and the vampires had been quite grateful. He had merely needed to rise above the line of sight of the night traffic and return home.

He was halted by a figure at the corner of his vision. Chills ran through him as he pivoted in the air to get a better look and viewed only an empty rooftop. It had been nothing, he told himself. Just his eyes playing tricks on him.

But for a moment, he was sure he had spotted the Huntsman.

That was impossible, he thought. He had seen the Huntsman die. Rose had made sure of it. If anything, he was surprised he hadn't been mistaking innocent people and random objects for the Huntsman up to this point, given the prominence of that figure in his mind. This truly was the first time he had ever had that exact hallucination, and it unnerved him. Because if it turned out the Huntsman wasn't dead after all…

"No way," Jake told himself as he hovered. "The Huntsman is DEAD. I just need to get some sleep already."

Returning to his course, he vowed to put it out of his mind. But that was easier said than done.

...

When the Radiant Garden contingent set out for the beach trip, all went except for Cid, Leon, Aerith, Merlin, Lea, Aeleus, and Ienzo, making Yuffie the only Committee representative. In order to reach the beach from town, they all boarded a train at a station at the city's edge, taking them over wide, grassy fields and past thick forests for half an hour.

Another half an hour in which Kazuichi bit his lip and vowed not to vomit. At least the train was slower and less turbulent than the Gummi ship, making that task a lot easier.

Ruby had alarmed everyone's suspicions by bringing a rather large red plastic bucket aboard the train. "What's that for?" Ren had asked.

"Oh, just sand castles," Ruby had replied in a tone that suggested she was hiding something.

"Okay," Ren had responded.

"It's definitely for not dumping cold water on people when they're least expecting it," Ruby had gone on.

"I somehow doubt that," Ren had sighed.

Now, with the trip well under way, Sora sat next to Riku, Kairi, Donald, and Goofy on the plush seats, looking out the window. "I can't believe we're going to see the ocean again!" he laughed.

"That's gotta feel like goin' home for you three!" Goofy said with a smile.

"In a way, it kind of does," Kairi confirmed.

Across the train, Moana was awestruck by Sadira's claim; "You've never seen the ocean?"

"Nope," Sadira replied. "All my friends have, but I never traveled too far out of the desert. The whole idea is weird to me. So it's just water that goes on and on forever?"

"Well, not forever," Moana corrected.

"You know what I mean," Sadira clarified. "It just looks like it does. Like the desert."

"I guess that's right?" Moana offered. "I've never seen the desert, so I don't know for sure."

"You've never seen a DESERT?" Sadira said in awe.

"I hope you don't mind if I ask a question," Katara broke in.

"Go ahead," Moana told her.

"Well, the ocean has a special relationship with you," Katara recalled, "and she's one of the most powerful forces we know. Is she going to be okay with everyone splashing around and playing?"

"She's used to it," Moana replied with a smile. "She'll actually love the attention."

Kazuichi took special note of where all of the others he had gotten to know were distributed. Sora was with his friends, Ruby was catching up with the "NJR" of Team RNJR, Papyrus was conversing with the pair of talking horses that had only been further confirmation that Kazuichi didn't know how the worlds worked at all, Stork was listening to Yuffie relate tales of her exploits, Jasmine and Aladdin were striking up conversation with the Mystic Rangers and Genie, and Katara was still caught up with Sadira and Moana. Whenever Kazuichi tried to approach one of the groups, one of those who hadn't met him on the World That Never Was gave him a distrustful glare that warned him to back off: Donald, Nora, Luna, Yuffie, Nick, Moana. The group wasn't taking the Committee's words lightly.

At last, the train arrived at the stop bordering the beach. All spilled out of the train to find a lengthy strip of sand before them and a bright blue ocean extending beyond; it was utterly enticing. Most simply charged right down toward the water, stripping off their outer layers to reveal their swimwear. Those who didn't, such as Stork and Luna, staked out claims on the sand where they could stretch out a towel and bask in the sunlight.

"Come on!" Sora encouraged, laughing as he, Riku, Donald, and Goofy pealed toward the water. "Bet I can beat you all in a splash fight!"

Jaune and Kairi reconnected by that point. "So, what do you usually do at the beach?" Jaune asked.

"Well," Kairi answered, "I like looking for seashells. I sometimes make jewelry out of them. Like my good-luck charm."

"Then let's find some shells!" Jaune decreed, kicking off a quest to search for the most colorful shells left on the shore.

"Hey," Nora called out, observing an odd structure some ways down the shore. "What's with that barn?"

"Huh?" Yuffie turned to look where she had indicated. A great red barn was situated on the shore, close to the water, some distance from where everyone had disembarked. "That's weird."

"Who puts a BARN on the BEACH?" Nora wondered out loud.

"I don't know," Yuffie admitted. "I don't really come here that often, so I'm not sure what it's there for. I know Lea used to come here all the time when he was a kid. He probably knows."

"Should we check it out?" Nora asked.

"I wouldn't," Ren broke in. "That barn probably belongs to someone who doesn't want us trespassing."

"Or it could be a shed for beach stuff that just happens to look like a barn," Yuffie suggested with a shrug. "We'll ask Lea when we get back to him."

"Wait," Nora realized. "You don't come here every chance you get? WHY?"

"Well, because I was a little kid who didn't remember the beach well when Maleficent took over," Yuffie explained, "and then once we came back, it was dive right into Committee work."

"Then we gotta have a lotta fun while you're here!" Nora insisted. "Come on, let's get in the water!"

While the people around her splashed and played, Moana walked out into the water, staring out at the horizon. "Uh…hi," she began. "So…it's been a while. How are you? Well, okay, that's kind of a silly question. You're the ocean. Obviously, you're in a lot of places that are doing good sometimes and bad sometimes."

She saw the waters move in a way that almost looked like a polite laugh.

"Well, I just wanted to say I didn't forget about you!" Moana explained. "Things are getting complicated, and I'm glad I left home, but I do miss you. It is VERY good to see you again. Anyway, I hope you like all my new friends."

A small mound of water rose up to give a nod of approval.

"That's about all I have for now," Moana concluded. "I'll try and keep you posted."

The mound settled back into the mass of water. The ocean pondered all that Moana had been through since leaving her homeworld, thinking of what it had observed and pieced together regarding the many incidents that all seemed to be connected – Mozenrath crossing the seas of the World of Twelve, Grimhilde setting out over the seas with the Dark Ace, Katara and her friends disappearing from the beach to join Sora. Perhaps it was time to contribute to these events in the favor of those doing good.

"So that's the ocean," Sadira remarked, looking out over the waters. "It really IS like a big desert made of water."

"That's one way to describe it," Aladdin laughed.

Genie, having donned a red shirt patterned with white flowers, cried out "SURF'S UP, DUDES!" before materializing a surfboard from nowhere and plunging it out into the waves further away from the coast.

From the far edge of the sand, Kazuichi watched the others laugh, play, observe, converse, and generally enjoy themselves and the water. He had always loved the beach when he was younger and even in Neo World. It was a fun place to splash around with friends and hope to catch a glimpse of Sonia in her beachwear. But now, he was isolated, with no one to share this moment with him, and to run into the water alone seemed disingenuous. He let the sun shine down on him, feeling its heat on his exposed skin – against everyone else's judgments of what was and wasn't fashionable, he had talked Sora into purchasing for him a camouflage swim brief, which he now sported along with the metal brace and nothing else.

He had felt that he'd truly grown closer with his six shopping companions while they were all out. However, now, they were all split up and hanging out with the friends they had known longer. Every now and then, someone, such as Donald or Madison, would turn an eye upon Kazuichi to make sure he wasn't getting into any trouble. This made him cautious to even move any further down the beach.

Maybe it had been foolish to think he could make friends in this environment. Maybe they were simply going to drop him whenever it wasn't convenient to include him. Maybe his hopes had been unfounded.

Kazuichi first sat, then lay back on the sand, not even having a towel to shield his body from the grains. He placed both hands behind his head and closed his eyes, simply feeling the sun's heat all the more. It was probably best just to stay back and then go home when it came time to do so. After all, it wasn't as though peace of mind was simply going to drop on him out of the sky.

But a whole lot of cold water did.

Startled by the seawater that had just been launched over him, Kazuichi struggled into a standing position. He might have been angry but for the timing; someone had gotten him good, and he had to appreciate how humorous that was. It didn't take him long to spot the culprit, as Ruby, with red bucket in hand, was making no move to escape. "Oh, come on," she groaned, "you totally knew what this bucket was for, and you didn't even try to make yourself not be an easy target!"

Kazuichi broke out laughing at that.

"Okay, good," Ruby replied. "I was worried you might be mad. But then I thought it would totally be worth it."

"You just be glad I don't have my own bucket," Kazuichi laughed, "or I'd be getting you back for that one!"

"Ruby!" Sora jogged over to the pair. "That bucket was supposed to be for sand castles!"

"I can't believe you actually believed that," Ruby stated plainly.

"Why don't we use it for what it's actually for?" Sora suggested, grabbing the bucket and beginning to pack it full of sand. "Kazuichi, you should help us build a sand castle!"

"Sand castles?" Kazuichi repeated, still beaming. "That's kid stuff."

"Well, yeah," Ruby admitted. "That's why we're doing it."

"Hey!" Katara jogged over, followed by Jasmine and Papyrus. "Are you making a sand castle?"

"Sure are!" Sora confirmed.

"Eh, what the heck?" Kazuichi decided. "I'll help out."

"You're going to need to get that sand wet," Katara suggested.

"Whatever we build would look nice with some decorative seashells," Jasmine added. "I'll find some."

"YOU'D BETTER HURRY BEFORE JAUNE AND KAIRI PICK THEM ALL UP," Papyrus encouraged.

Stork eventually made his way over, declaring, "It was too noisy to sunbathe anyway."

"How are you even sunbathing?" Ruby asked. "You're wearing all your normal clothes!"

"Which is how I like to sunbathe!" Stork insisted. "So I take it we're doing a sand castle now."

By then, two bucketfuls of sand had formed towers. "You know," Katara said, "Toph made whole cities out of sand back home. She would love to be here now."

"We'll have to bring her sometime," Sora decided.

Jasmine returned with a bounty of seashells, and more towers went up, forming a rather impressive fortress. "Soooo," Kazuichi said, bringing up his favorite topic, "I know who Sora and Jasmine are with. What about the rest of you?"

"Eh, haven't found anybody yet," Ruby stated. "Not even sure what I'm looking for."

"My one true love is the Condor," Stork said plainly. "I'll consider dating an actual person IF and only IF they can measure up to the Condor's beauty."

"Wait," Ruby broke in, "are you saying you're actually in love with your airship?"

"Hey!" Kazuichi defended. "Don't insult the bond between a man and his vehicle!"

"Compare it to the bond between a girl and her giant scythe," Stork suggested.

"It's also a gun," Ruby reminded him.

"REGRETTABLY," Papyrus contributed, "I HAVE NOT YET FOUND ANYONE TO FALL FOR. I HAVE ONLY HAD OTHERS FALL HOPELESSLY IN LOVE WITH ME, AND I UNFORTUNATELY HAD TO BREAK THEIR HEARTS. IT IS SIMPLY MY CURSE."

"Well, I…sort of have someone back home," Katara confessed.

"It's Aang, isn't it?" Sora recalled.

"Yeah," Katara said with a blush. "I still don't know how serious you can call our relationship, but we're definitely something."

"WE ALREADY KNOW YOUR ANSWER, KAZUICHI," Papyrus recalled. "YOUR HEART BEATS ONLY FOR SONIA!"

"It does!" Kazuichi confirmed. "She'd love all this."

"Maybe one day, we could bring her here too," Sora mused.

"Your friends don't even like me," Kazuichi pointed out. "Why would they let in more Remnants of Despair?"

"Leon's gotta let up eventually," Sora said with a shrug. "I just wanna meet everyone's friends."

"You're really somethin'," Kazuichi told him. "And I mean that in a good way."

"That's what most people who know Sora come to realize," Jasmine confirmed.

Sora stood up. "Well, I think this castle is pretty awesome," he declared. "I don't see how we can make it much better." It had almost become a metropolis in its own right, with sculpted towers that housed shells and leaves as it stretched out over the beach. "I think we should have a splash fight instead!"

"Count me out," Stork said immediately.

"I think I'll pass too," Jasmine stated, "but the rest of you should go have fun!"

"Can you even get that brace wet?" Katara asked Kazuichi.

"It'll be fine so long as I air it out," he replied. "But I should warn you, if we're having a splash fight, I'm gonna kick all your asses!"

"That's what you think," Katara said with a wink as she turned and rushed for the water.

Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, and Kazuichi followed her, each hitting the water at their own pace. As the five were just beginning to square up, a large wave of water suddenly erupted from in front of Katara; she shoved it forward, drenching her four opponents.

Papyrus coughed as he surfaced. "I HAVE SUDDENLY REALIZED TAKING ON A LITERAL WATERBENDER IN A SPLASH FIGHT WAS A TERRIBLE IDEA," he declared.

"You only just figured that out now?" Katara teased.

Ruby spat a stream of water out. She then took one look at Sora and Kazuichi and was set into giggles. "Your hair both does that thing," she observed.

"What thing?" both asked.

"It got all flat when it was wet," Ruby described, "and then all the spikes just sprang right back up."

Kazuichi and Sora looked to each other to realize Ruby had been correct in her observation.

Sora then looked around at Kazuichi, Papyrus, and Ruby. "You know what this means we need to do," he suggested. "Make it four on one!"

"YOU'RE ON!" Katara yelled, water swirling around her upper body.

Stork and Jasmine watched the other five laugh and scream as they attempted to drench each other. The sight brought a smile to both of their faces.

Others took notice as well. Most were still quite suspicious of Kazuichi's presence. But if Sora wanted to trust him, they weren't going to stop him. And perhaps, if Sora trusted him, that suggested he had picked up on something they were missing.

...

In a room on the lower level of Villain's Vale, near the castle's exterior, Bill Sykes waited, his back turned to the door as he faced a tapestry depicting Maleficent's dragon shape. The sound of voices conversing with each other signaled him to the fact that those he had messaged had arrived. He let them open the door and see his well-dressed back, not yet giving them the satisfaction of looking at his face, letting them wonder.

" – this is all about," Madame Medusa finished as she stormed into the room. She then pointed an accusing finger at Sykes; "You! You're the one who left those messages!"

"Whatever you brought us all down here for," the Joker warned, "it better be good."

"And what an odd selection, too," Scar noted, looking over those who had all entered.

"It's got to be for a reason," Horace Badun stated. "There's a reason it's all of us."

"And that reason better not be to bump us off while the bosses ain't lookin'," Jasper Badun chimed in. "Or 'cause they told you to take out the trash."

Sykes took a long drag from his cigar. "Nothing so banal," he said as he exhaled an utter cumulonimbus of smoke. "I merely called together the people I thought had the skills I needed most."

"Do I sense an incident in the air?" the Joker sniffed out. "Something you want us to do? Cause a little anarchy?"

"I'm hardly predisposed to take orders from the likes of you," Scar huffed.

"Think of it as a proposition," Sykes said coolly. "Not an order. I'll spell out what I want, and you can decide whether or not you want a part of it. It's completely your own free will. I just thought you might all find it interesting."

He picked that moment to turn and face the five he'd summoned. "It struck me a while back that we live in a fairy-tale kingdom filled with otherworldly treasures, and we haven't been taking advantage of this."

"Surely Maleficent has been holding back for a reason," Horace suggested.

"She ain't stupid," Jasper agreed.

"Maleficent is withdrawing from a war with the ones who live in the castle," Sykes explained. "She's calculating her risks. Looking at the big picture. But you know what really makes a masterpiece great? The little details. The things the artist put in the background and thought no one would notice. Sometimes, you gotta stop looking at the big picture, because when you do, you'll realize that you can still avoid ten years of war and also have one real good night on the town." He flashed a sly grin. "I've been filling in a few of those little details myself. Had a lot of spare time, got to know the city for what it really is. And I have everything lined up for that one real good night. I just need to know how many of you are in."

"In for what?" Medusa huffed. "You can't expect us to agree to something we don't know about!"

"That I can't," Sykes agreed, taking another puff of the cigar. "Picture this with me. One night, as the last rays of the sun finally fade out of the sky, the city suddenly goes dark. No more electricity. No lights. No defenses. Now, I'm not talking about the castle. I'm talking about everything around it. The houses and shops run by the everyman. We use the night. We break the windows, we get into their homes and their stores, we take what we want and leave the rest of it in ruins." He paused then, waiting for a reaction.

"Well, I like it," the Joker commented.

"Somewhat disorganized," Scar added, "but not ultimately unappealing."

"But ain't that a lot of work to do for just the six of us?" Horace asked, baffled.

"It would be," Sykes agreed, "if it were just the six of us. But you five are just the icing on the cake. At the end of the night, I want you with me to claim a bigger prize. But for the opening act, you get to do whatever you want. Thing is, I already have the manpower I need to do most of the heavy lifting. I don't know what Maleficent's savin' 'em for, but we're sitting on a powder keg ready to blow, and I figure I can light the fuse just this once.

"And that's not even getting into the connections I've made outside this castle. I said I got to know this town for what it really is. On the surface, it seems like a happy little paradise. But every city has an underbelly. And this one has not one but two gangs controlling the crime circuit. I managed to get my foot in the door with both, and they tipped me off to the prize of the night. There's a vault they've both been trying to get into, with no success. Of course, they don't have the weapons we do. They don't have the brains we do. They don't have the raw power we do. I think we can succeed where they failed. Of course, they get a cut for their part. Their cut is whatever they can take once the storm begins. But the vault is all ours."

"And what, might I ask, is in this vault that we might want?" Scar inquired.

"The thing that matters," Sykes answered. "Money."

"Can never have too much of that," Jasper said in agreement. "I'm in."

"Me too!" Horace volunteered excitedly.

"Madness, mayhem, money!" the Joker recapitulated. "It's everything I love!"

"There had better be diamonds in this deal," Medusa spat. "You have me."

"While this sort of crime isn't my usual mode of operation," Scar added, "I find myself intrigued by the offer anyhow. I'll go along with your little game so long as it stays interesting."

"Good," Sykes said with a smile. "Now. I've asked our assistants to meet us outside. Would you like to meet the criminal underworld of Radiant Garden?"

"Would I?" Horace repeated excitedly.

"They sound like my kind of people!" the Joker added.

"I'm hoping we can all just be one big, happy family," Sykes said, brushing the tapestry aside to reveal another door.

That door led directly outside, where a group of people had already assembled, varying in height and build, their only unifying factor being the jet-black suits they wore.

"Meet the Turks," Sykes introduced. "They started out as do-gooders, but turned to a life of crime after Maleficent overtook the city, and even when she was chased to this hideout, they never looked back." He turned to the leader of the Turks, a man with long, dark hair the same color as his suit. "Tseng, these will be your go-to people," he explained. "Do what they say and we'll all get what we want."

Tseng nodded. "I trust your judgment."

"Well, I still have yet to be impressed," one of the Turks, sporting a crimson ponytail, remarked. "So far, you've been all talk. When are we gonna get results?"

"Soon, Reno," Sykes promised. "When all the pieces are in place, we're going to give this town a night it will never forget."

"Just make sure to do your part in breaking down the power grid," Tseng warned.

"All right, all right," Reno sighed. "But if this is just a load of crap, you can count me out of the next time you want help."

A tiny winged figure, the size of an extended hand, flitted over Reno's shoulder and hovered in the air next to Tseng. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be a blonde woman in a revealing pink ensemble. "And your promise holds true?" she asked. "We get to keep whatever we take? Or are you going to demand we turn it over to you?"

"She doesn't match the others," Horace pointed out.

"Leblanc is new to the Turks," Tseng said flatly. "She also refuses the notion of a unified dress code."

"The point of the suits is to make everyone blend together," Leblanc complained. "I need to stand out!"

"You can keep all the spoils you reap," Sykes promised her. "I'd worry more about how Tseng is going to divide things up between the Turks if I were you."

"You had better not be contemplating cheating me, Tseng!" Leblanc snapped.

"I intend to keep things fair," Tseng stated. "Even when it comes to you."

"Didn't you say there were two gangs running Radiant Garden's underworld?" Medusa recalled. "Where are the others?"

A shining black car revved in the distance, teetering from one side of its wheels to the other as it barreled toward the castle.

"That would be them now," Sykes observed.

The car came to a grinding halt in the open space, forcing several of the Turks to backpedal in order to not be run over. The doors popped open, and five figures spilled out who seemed the exact opposite of the Turks in every way: all were anthropomorphic weasels, each dressed in a wildly different ensemble from the other. When they arranged, the one in the lead was the one who sported a bright white suit coat and hat, cigar in hand as a diamond sparkled on his bright pink tie.

"What's this we got here?" the lead weasel demanded, looking around at the assorted criminals already gathered. "Some kinda losers' convention?"

"The Patrol is at the helm of a criminal network simply known as 'The Weasels,'" Sykes introduced. "The full contingent even outnumbers the Turks."

"That's 'cause the Turks is stupid," the weasel commented. "And judgin' from first sight, the rest of youse ain't lookin' any better. C'mon, Bill, I thought we was workin' with professionals here. Not half-wits like the Turks. And what's with these nincompoops and their pet lion? At least the Turks knows how to coordinate."

"You be quiet!" Medusa snapped. "Is it NECESSARY for you to be such a…such a…"

"Smartass?" the weasel quipped smugly. "I'd say so, sister, seein's how that's my name."

"Oh, goody," the Joker groaned. "I suppose every family has one, doesn't it?"

"You's underestimatin' the raw weaselpower we're bringin' to the operation," Smartass retorted. "If youse knew how many weasels we got, you might think about showin' us a little depreciation."

"The Patrol is more than efficient," Sykes clarified. "They successfully ran a protection racket on the southeast district before the Committee stuck their noses where they didn't belong."

"Now we's just layin' low 'till they back off," Smartass clarified.

"If you want information or a piece of fine jewelry, you hire a Turk," Sykes continued. "But if you want a man dead…you hire a Weasel."

"Never thought I'd see the day they had us working with the Weasels," Reno groaned.

"You got some kind of problem with that?" a weasel in a bright green suit retorted.

"Reno," a tall, bald Turk sporting a pair of dark sunglasses said in a warning tone.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Reno grumbled. "Shut up."

"The Turks and the Weasels don't have the best history," Sykes admitted. "But I think we can all come together for just one night."

"Youse still hasn't answered the most imperative question," Smartass pointed out. "Who gets the vault?"

"We were the first to tell you of the vault's existence," Tseng said coldly.

"Boys, boys," Sykes said, then, remembering Leblanc and a few other female members of the Turks, "and ladies. There's plenty to go around without worrying about the vault. If neither of your forces could break in, we certainly can't. We're just going to focus on what we can get."

"But, boss," Horace said confusedly, "you said – "

"QUIET!" Medusa hissed, bopping Horace over the head with her fist. She had caught on to Sykes' scheme; he wanted the Radiant Garden thugs to be content believing the vault wasn't a factor while Sykes took the vault's contents to divide among his elite team out of sight of the others.

"Now that we're all here," Tseng said, "we can talk about particulars. For instance, when we strike, and how to divide ourselves throughout the town."

"Not to mention you still ain't told us about this army you got hidden up your sleeves," Smartass reminded Sykes.

"Now is the perfect time to discuss things," Sykes agreed, "and we're going to plan this to the letter. Which isn't to say there won't be room for a little improvisation."

He began to lay out the specifics of the plan. As he spoke, those around him gained more confidence that he would, in fact, be the one to lead them to great riches and a place in the history books as the criminals that brought Radiant Garden's citizenry to their knees.

...

In a hazy rage against the Portley-Rinds, who he apparently believed were hiding somewhere in town, Snatcher had already upended three vendor carts and chased several innocent civilians a good ways down the road. By that point, his entire body was affected by swelling, his clothing barely but thankfully holding together.

Demyx, Hans, and Roman had trailed his every move, not letting him get too far out of sight. Roman's scroll had been out all the while, trained on Snatcher the whole time.

"This is insane," Demyx marveled. "You're not just gonna let him keep going like that, are you?"

"I…ALMOST feel bad for him," Hans said in an awed tone.

"Trust me," Roman said as he focused on his scroll, "this had to happen. Call it a necessary evil."

"You realize you did this," Hans pointed out. "Boyfriend of the year."

Roman rolled his eyes as he ended the recording, pocketing the scroll. "I got enough. I'll fix him."

"How?" Demyx asked as Snatcher hurled a fourth cart into the middle of the street.

Roman withdrew the medical pen from where it was always concealed in his jacket. "Never leave home without it."

"But I know how those things work," Demyx recalled, "and you have to get close enough to him to stick that in his leg, right? How are you going to – "

Roman was already loading the pen into the chamber of the Cudgel.

"It truly is amazing that Vexen is in charge of our medical operations and not you," Hans said sarcastically.

"I just need a good shot to snipe him from," Roman muttered. "But I got this." He took off in a perpendicular direction, shooting down a side street.

"You really think we should trust him with this?" Demyx wondered out loud.

"Whatever happens," Hans told Demyx, "we can honestly say this was not our fault."

"That argument really makes me want to sit back and not interfere," Demyx replied.

"Then I did my job right," Hans said with a smile.

Roman eventually caught up with Snatcher from a block over, sneaking up on him from an alley. As Snatcher bellowed a tirade of accusations to a street vendor about not giving him the honor he deserved, Roman saw his coat billow back from his leg. It was a perfect shot.

Without overthinking it, Roman let the projectile fly.

The pen stabbed right through Snatcher's pant leg and into his skin; Roman had still kept the model from Knightdock, which was relatively advanced compared to the technology found on other worlds. It took a minute for him to realize that the person he was yelling at was not, in fact, Lord Portley-Rind, and he was still in Corona. He slowly pried open his left eye, which he hadn't even been aware had swollen shut and was only now being given the relief to move. The vendor was backing away from him, terrified, and it was only beginning to sink in what a scene he must have caused in a very public environment.

"…I may have said some things just now that – " he attempted.

The vendor turned and ran, screaming.

The pen was wrenched from his leg, and a hand clapped onto his shoulder. "So!" Roman said cheerily. "That could've gone better, couldn't it?"

Snatcher roughly shoved Roman away. Perhaps he could still salvage the situation. "This means nothing."

"Oh, I don't think you have any way to deny this one," Roman said with altogether too wide of a smile.

Gradually, Snatcher's clothes felt less constrictingly tight, though he still had a little ways to go before he was completely free of swelling. "I merely…lost control for a moment."

"Oh, I know you did," Roman confirmed, holding out his scroll and playing back the recorded footage. "You wanna see how much you did? Because I got the whole thing on camera."

"You…" Snatcher regarded Roman with horror, as though he had been betrayed in the worst way.

"Do you have any idea how many people I could send this to?" Roman laughed. "You can try and excuse your way out of this all you want. But I have the footage. I have the proof. And EVERYONE in this town can attest to what they saw. You know damn well why this happened."

"You…you…" Snatcher sputtered. He made a lunge for the scroll; Roman quickly yanked it out of Snatcher's way and danced backward, hiding the device within his jacket. At his breaking point, Snatcher roared, "HAVE YOU ANY IDEA WHAT YOU'VE JUST DONE?"

"Forced you to confront the fucking truth," Roman replied. "If you'd just spit it out, this wouldn't happen again."

"You're out to RUIN me!" Snatcher accused.

"I DID THIS TO PROTECT YOU!" Roman yelled.

"BY VERY NEARLY KILLING ME IN THE PROCESS?" Snatcher retorted. "IS THAT YOUR IDEA OF PROTECTION?"

"SO YOU ADMIT IT!" Roman cried triumphantly. "YOU ADMIT THAT ALLERGIC REACTION COULD HAVE KILLED YOU!"

Snatcher realized when his arguing was fruitless, but did not yet want to admit defeat. "I preferred when you weren't speaking to me," he growled in a low tone.

"Oh, would you prefer that to actually being honest?" Roman asked. "Because we can go back to that."

"Then stop…talking," Snatcher demanded.

Roman then just gave a shrug in response.

"That's already quite preferable," Snatcher said sternly.

Hans and Demyx had caught up a while ago; they were merely waiting it out to find a time that was at all appropriate to break back into conversation. Snatcher turned to address them directly. "Gentlemen," he announced, "we are to ride out at once." He dug the compass back out, noting the direction its needle pointed.

"I feel like we just watched a train crash," Demyx said.

"You're to FORGET what you saw," Snatcher ordered. "It isn't pertinent at all to the mission at hand. Mr. Westergard, lead us to our horses."

"Okay," Hans replied. "So we're just going to pretend – "

"I SAID LEAD ON, MR. WESTERGARD."

"All right, all right!" Hans said defensively, charting the course and setting out.

Snatcher and Demyx followed him immediately. Roman trailed behind, trying to figure out whether he had just landed a victory or dug the hole deeper.

...

The ocean has always been close to the moon, for the moon controls its tides. Every world has a different moon, but all moons are connected. Each moon is represented by some sort of guardian, be it Luna, the legendary Man in the Moon, the titan Selene, the goddess Artemis, or another. There is very little the ocean knows that the moon, no matter which moon, does not also know. What the ocean sees on one world, the moon thirty worlds away is aware of. The ocean keeps no secrets from the moon, nor does the moon keep secrets from the ocean, and in times of turbulence, they rely upon each other.

When the ocean was addressed by Moana, she spoke to the moon of Radiant Garden of all that had transpired before her regarding Mozenrath, Maleficent, the Radiant Garden contingent, and even what she knew of Xehanort. It could only be leading to things that would shake all worlds at once, and she knew more attention had to be paid by the cosmos.

The moon of Radiant Garden relayed this information to the moon over Agrabah, who passed it on to the moon shining above the Fire Nation, who in turn spoke to the moon that rose high above Atmos. The moon of Remnant was attempted for communication, but in her shattered state, she could not respond.

Eventually, word reached the moon over Corona. This moon had a particularly special relationship with her world; the sun was not the only cosmic force to have touched the earth. The moon knew that soon, visitors would reach her domain, both good and evil. She, unlike many moons, could interfere.

She reached down and called the attention of the black stone spikes that had erupted from the ground when the sundrop flower was plucked. She told them of all that had happened, and what she speculated would come. Obediently, they listened.

The rocks that had lay in a neat pathway pointing toward a forgotten kingdom and its hazardous gem straightened up, pointing toward the sky, awaiting the arrival of the chosen.

The sundrop was in peril. At the moon's behest, the rocks had decided to change course entirely in order to protect her. Destiny could be achieved some other day; first, there needed to be a sundrop still existing to achieve it.


	68. Trouble by Nightfall

68\. Trouble by Nightfall

A/N: I just wanted a light trigger warning, as this chapter concerns one of our racist villain protagonists rallying allies, which might be reminiscent of certain real-world things I wish hadn't happened in recent times.

* * *

The sun was still high in the sky when the four horses tore across the bridge leading from Corona to the mainland. As they traveled on, the sun dipped lower and lower to the horizon, streaking beautiful reds and pinks that the travelers didn't have the aesthetic palate to appreciate. When the sun itself had disappeared, leaving only the remnants of dusky light in its wake, Snatcher pulled his horse to a stop.

"We'd best make camp for the night," he announced when Roman, Demyx, and Hans had also reined in their horses.

"You know," Hans replied, "I admire your sensitivity, Archibald. I appreciate that you're giving your poor horse a break after having to carry double the weight of any of ours."

Dismounting from his horse, Snatcher gritted his teeth before saying, "Must you, Mr. Westergard? Must you at EVERY opportunity?"

Hans swung down from his own horse. "You just make it so easy," he taunted.

Demyx and Roman hit the ground as well; Demyx was chuckling to himself while Roman's expression was completely blank.

"I also see you're back to using my first name," Snatcher pointed out. "As I told you not to do."

"You're still calling me 'Mr.'," Hans countered. "Which I told YOU not to do."

"You referred to me in the proper manner for quite some time," Snatcher argued.

"I was busy thinking about what Mozenrath would want me to do," Hans explained. "Then I realized what he doesn't know won't kill him. Besides, we're all going to get along eventually, right? Might as well get in my digs where I can before that happens."

"That makes no logical sense whatsoever," Snatcher replied. "The only way we'll reach a point of collaboration is by treating each other with respect from the get-go."

"Then get going with it," Hans countered.

Snatcher rolled his eyes and turned away. "I'll tend to the horses. The rest of you prepare our campsite."

"How about you two set up camp," Demyx proposed to Roman and Hans, "and I sit back and enjoy the night sky while it's still pretty?"

"Come on," Hans cajoled, "you can at least start a fire."

"You're asking the water guy to start a fire," Demyx reminded him.

"Take one for the team?" Hans argued.

"Fine," Demyx groaned. "One fire."

He pulled together all the sticks and leaves he could find, arranging them into a pile. He then located two stones that fit his hands well, hoping to strike sparks from them. Positioning himself over the pile of kindling, he smacked the two rocks together hopelessly for a good five minutes.

Roman swooped down in beside Demyx, smugly placing his lighter to the kindling and watching the blaze go up.

"Oh, sure," Demyx snorted. "Anyone can do it THAT way."

Roman lit the end of a cigarette in the blaze and positioned it in his mouth.

Before long, all four travelers were seated around the fire. "So have we thought about what we're even going to do to get this princess to come with us?" Demyx asked. "Are we just going to do your general kidnap, or talk her into it?"

"Not to brag," Hans volunteered, "but I have more than enough experience with talking princesses into coming with me."

"If we can get her to come quietly, that would be preferable," Snatcher agreed.

Roman simply nodded. So he was serious about being silent, Snatcher thought. That was fine. More than fine. Preferable, in fact, given how he'd acted. Snatcher most certainly wasn't offput by the lack of words from him, and he definitely wasn't taking this as a sign that he needed to think anything over in more detail, or that he had, heavens forbid, been wrong.

"I kinda wish we could have known more about her relationship with the person who actually DID take her in the first place," Hans mused. "That Gothel."

That was a good idea, but it had come from Hans, so Snatcher couldn't let that fly. "There's no worth in that," he said sharply. "What we need is someone who knew her intimately. Someone who knows what to say and do to make her fall in line." He then paused, pretending to think it over. "Perhaps Gothel."

"You literally just shut me down and then said my exact idea," Hans complained.

"So how do we find her?" Demyx wondered out loud.

Snatcher produced the compass. "We simply ask," he declared. Tapping the compass, he ordered, "Point us in the direction of Gothel."

The needle began to spin round and round and did not cease.

"She's not on this world," Snatcher observed.

"What if she's dead?" Demyx guessed.

"That would actually make things a lot easier for us," Hans pointed out.

"How?" Demyx asked. "She's DEAD."

"And so was Zevon," Hans reminded him.

"Ohhhhhh," Demyx realized. "Does this really count as an emergency?"

Hans was already dialing the number on his scroll. "I don't know," he admitted, "but it's me calling. He won't say no to me."

"You underestimate Lord Mozenrath's capacity to become frustrated with those he cares about," Snatcher stated.

By then, Hans had made the connection. Holding the scroll up to his face, he greeted, "Helloooooooo." Then: "How've you been?...Good, good. Things are going pretty well over here. I mean, present company does leave much to be desired, but we're getting places. Anyway, I was wondering if you could meet us here…Yes…Yes, it's kind of something we need your help with. Literally only you can do this…Come on. For me? Please?...Mozenrath? Mozenrath, are you still – "

A Corridor opened up before the camp, and Mozenrath trudged through, looking quite disgruntled. "All right," he groaned, "make it quick. Garfield and Peter have just gotten the board reset after their third stalemate and everyone's on edge about which of them is going to pull through. Also, Mim is much farther on the bracket than she ever should be, and I'm sure she's cheating somehow, but no one can figure out what she's doing."

"Er…I don't quite understand," Snatcher admitted.

"Chess tournament," Mozenrath said by way of explanation.

The four nodded; that made sense. Then: "Wait," from Hans. "You're having a chess tournament without me?"

"Am I not allowed to have fun until you're done with business?" Mozenrath snapped.

"Well, when you put it like that," Hans said with a shrug. "Anyway, we might need a resurrection."

"Might?" Mozenrath raised a brow.

"We're not really sure she's dead," Demyx confessed.

Mozenrath sighed. "Tell me anyway."

"Her name is Gothel," Hans explained. "She kidnapped a princess on this world. Princess Rapunzel."

"I'm sorry, you're going to have to run that last name you said by me again," Mozenrath replied.

"Princess Rapunzel?" Hans repeated.

"That's…not a name," Mozenrath commented. "It's a vegetable."

"FINALLY," Snatcher sighed. "Every person I meet claiming my name doesn't sound real, and yet we've ended up in a whole kingdom that worships a girl named after rampion."

"Rapunzel isn't the point here," Hans asserted. "It's Gothel we need. Did I give you enough to go on?"

"I think that should work," Mozenrath remarked. "I've resurrected from less."

"Then let's have her," Snatcher bade him.

All four travelers got to their feet as Mozenrath stretched out his right wrist. The calculations and incantations flowed through Mozenrath's mind as he directed his hand to an empty patch of grass. Blue light shimmered in the shape of a human being, soon solidifying into skin, flesh, bone, and hair.

She was not altogether impressive in height or build; her hair was dark, wavy, spilling just past her shoulders. In the low light, all could just make out that her long, loose gown was of a burgundy shade.

"Gothel," Mozenrath greeted as the newly resurrected soul blinked in confusion to take in her surroundings, "welcome to the land of the living."

"I…" Gothel replied, still perplexed. "What…what just happened?"

"You got your free pass out of the Underworld," Mozenrath told her, "and I have a chess match to finish watching." Desperately hoping the victor hadn't been decided while he was away, Mozenrath swept back into the Corridor, which shut behind him.

"Do not mind Lord Mozenrath's curt response," Snatcher told Gothel. "He's a brilliant mind for plotting and fluent in the magical arts, but he still has much to learn by way of human interaction."

A couple things about this situation caught Gothel's interest. One was that the man who had just spoken to her, while not traditionally attractive by the standards she had known, had an incredibly lovely voice: deep and rich, with a pleasing English accent. The other was that she had just been told she'd been given a "free pass out of the Underworld" by someone who was apparently well-versed in magic. "So I'm not dead anymore," she reiterated.

"Nnnnnope!" Demyx confirmed with a smile.

"Well, that's good news," Gothel said, though that was definitely an understatement. Furthermore, it seemed her necromancer had the courtesy to put her in a body that reflected her at her peak rather than the half-millennium she had lived. "I don't suppose it comes without a catch."

"You were brought back to life to assist us," Snatcher explained.

"With what?" Gothel asked, already sure she wouldn't like the answer.

"You knew a girl named 'Rapunzel' once," Hans tested.

"Rapunzel?" Gothel repeated. "I did much more than simply KNOW Rapunzel. I raised her like my own daughter."

"The daughter you stole from her parents," Snatcher clarified, "in order to make use of her magical power."

"How do you know all of this?" Gothel asked accusatorily.

"We know a lot of things," Hans told her. "We get around. We're not exactly FROM Corona to begin with."

"But on the topic," Snatcher clarified, "we learned of you simply by asking around town in Corona. Your tale seems to be rather common knowledge."

"Fair enough," Gothel said with a shrug. "I suppose it would be, especially after Rapunzel said such slanderous things about me."

"Slander?" Demyx repeated. "So it wasn't true?"

"Oh, it was true," Gothel confirmed. "I just do wish she wouldn't remind everyone. I did care for her for eighteen whole years! I gave her the prime of my fifth century of life! She didn't die, and she was in excellent health! What more could she have asked for, really?"

"Well, maybe her real family – " Demyx began.

"Demyx," Hans hushed.

"And she was always going on and on about freedom," Gothel continued, "Blah, blah, blah, 'Mother, I want to leave my tower and see the world.' Not on my watch. I had youth to preserve."

"A tantalizing power to keep for yourself, indeed," Snatcher mused. "Had I access to such a thing, I would certainly make use of it. As would several people I know." Yzma in particular would jump at the chance to restore her youth.

Gothel tried to picture what Snatcher could have looked like when he was at the same age she currently was physically. Perhaps a lot more distinguished. Then again, that voice did give him a lot of charm currently, as did the way he carried himself and gestured when he spoke. It was almost alluring. "So you're not from Corona," Gothel established. "Where, then? Vardaros?"

"We're probably from further away than you'd think," Demyx told her.

"What would you say if I told you we came from worlds away?" Snatcher posed.

"I'd say you look awfully ordinary for that," Gothel commented. "I would have at least expected you to go the direction of Zhan Tiri. But I did just come back from the dead, so I'll buy just about anything at this point."

"Not only have we come from afar, cosmically speaking," Snatcher told her, "but we represent a legion of conquerors. Conquerors in search of items of great magical power in order to make a rather large bid for all of the worlds. Our search for an element of pure Life has led us to this world, where we find ourselves in pursuit of a certain sundrop. A sundrop we believe to be personified in your Rapunzel."

"Rapunzel, the sundrop?" Gothel repeated. "You should believe it. I saw it for myself. I had that flower all to myself before the Corona royal family plucked it. Naturally, I went chasing after the girl, and I could see it in her hair right away. You've never seen a newborn child with so much hair. I would have just taken the hair, but even snipping a lock removed it of its power. So I ended up having to take the entire baby. Not ideal, but I made it work. The hair has been cut, mind you. The power of the sundrop has gone with it."

"And yet," Snatcher pointed out, "we are in possession of a compass that shows us the way to what we ask of it. And when we ask it for the sundrop, it shows us thus." He held out the compass to realize that the sun had already set and it was now too dark to notice which direction the needle was pointing, even by firelight. "Well, you can't see it right now, but it was pointing in a definite direction."

"We think the sundrop's power is still in the girl," Hans clarified.

"Somebody in Corona even said her hair grew back!" Demyx volunteered.

"Her hair has returned?" Gothel was taken aback. "That changes quite a few things."

"I suppose you'll be wanting possession of her once more," Snatcher stated.

"Well, I certainly wouldn't want her power to go to waste," Gothel confirmed.

"Might we strike a deal?" Snatcher asked. "If you should lend us a hand in bringing the girl to heel, we would bring you into our fold and allow you as much access to her hair as you see fit."

"Tempting," Gothel said, "but there's one thing standing in my way."

"And that is?" Snatcher prompted.

"I still know beans about you," Gothel said sternly. "Tell me more about your legion of conquerors, and I'll see if it strikes my fancy."

"Come 'round by the fire, then," Snatcher invited.

Gothel delicately dropped to her knees before the fire, letting her skirts trail behind; Snatcher, Roman, Hans, and Demyx arranged themselves around the fire once more. "We'll start with names," Gothel said. "You know mine, but I don't know yours."

"I am Archibald Snatcher," Snatcher introduced, waiting for the inevitable derogatory comment.

Which Gothel thought about making, but she wanted to make a good impression with this man. She simply nodded.

"Prince Hans Westergard," Hans chimed in.

"Might as well call me Demyx," Demyx volunteered. "Everyone else does."

"And you?" Gothel stared across the fire at Roman. "You don't seem to talk much, do you?"

"He's usually a motormouth," Demyx informed her. "He's just really ticked right now about stuff I'm still confused about."

Roman gave a brief, sharp nod.

"That is Roman Torchwick," Snatcher filled in.

"I see," Gothel responded. "And about your organization."

"The WHAM ARMY," Snatcher replied.

"The what?" Gothel replied, almost laughing.

"I certainly didn't come up with the name," Snatcher grunted, to which Roman just shook his head in disappointment.

Snatcher, Hans, and Demyx took turns telling Gothel about the WHAM ARMY's goal and the spell that required Rapunzel. Their chat took them halfway into the night, leaving them precious few hours to sleep. Once dawn broke, they all found themselves mounting their horses again (to the chagrin of Demyx and Roman, both accustomed late sleepers); Demyx and Hans took to the same horse in order for Gothel to have her own. When they set off, Gothel informed them that the road they were traveling along led to a very particular destination, and speculation began to build that Princess Rapunzel was making a stay in the city of Vardaros.

* * *

The Huntsclan had generally been responsible for producing its own munitions. Facilities were devoted to the manufacture of the standard-issue huntstaffs, bows, and gadgetry utilized by the slayers. However, the Huntsman had learned that sometimes, one needed to outsource if one found oneself in a jam. He had made a professional acquaintance in the field for just that very purpose, and had requested many a weapon from him, or a tune-up of one of his standard arms. To this man, he was the alias Hunter Thorn. From this man, he did not even have an alias; his business creating magic-resistant weaponry was completely a black-market operation only available to those who even knew magic was a force in place in the world, and he kept his business identity distinctly separate from any other part of his life. To the Huntsman, he was merely the Smith.

The Smith was tall and lean, with close-cropped raven-black hair. When the Huntsman paid him a visit in his garage, he was clothed in a white tee and blue jeans, a leather apron covering the lot and burns and stains all over. Neither man hid his face in the presence of the other. The Smith didn't know the Huntsman's position among the Huntsclan, or even that he was involved at all, though rumors and the edge of the Huntsman's birthmark had led the Smith to suspect. The helmet would have been more of a betrayal of identity than the face.

As such, the Smith did remember that face, and when the Huntsman walked into the garage, he did a double take before breaking into a sly smile. "Haven't seen you around in a while," he remarked. "To tell you the truth, I thought you were dead."

"Not a bad assumption, considering everything," the Huntsman replied.

"A whole bunch of my clients went missing around the same time, you know," the Smith pointed out. "Just stopped showing up. Almost like there'd been some kind of mass murder. Though I suppose that's crazy talk."

"You deal in magic and mysticism," the Huntsman reminded him. "You and I have both learned not to dismiss anything as insanity."

"I deal in neutralizing magic and mysticism," the Smith corrected. "Your point still stands, but I don't want you to misunderstand me here." He approached the Huntsman more closely. "There's only one reason you could be here. You want a weapon."

"I want many weapons," the Huntsman clarified, "and I want them within a day."

"That's a tall order, you know," the Smith told him. "You know my usual rates, but for that kind of speed, I'm going to have to bump them up."

The Huntsman produced a fat purse. It was filled with money from the WHAM ARMY's coffers: his final insult to them. "Search this and tell me what it will acquire."

The Smith rifled through the purse, letting several thick gold coins fall through his hand. "This is the real deal."

"And what's more…" The Huntsman produced one more item: a deep amber-colored crystal with a smoky interior. "This is a Nimbus Crystal. You will find, after some testing, that it produces cloud cover. It may be useful in your production, and if not, it will fetch a price."

"Where'd you pick up a beauty like this?" the Smith wondered, taking the Nimbus Crystal into his hand to look it over.

"That does not matter," the Huntsman asserted. "Given all I have paid you, what amount have I purchased?"

"Lucky for you, I already had thirty spears made," the Smith informed him. "All adjusted to neutralize magic. All sharp enough to perform surgery."

"Thirty spears?" the Huntsman inquired. "With most of your clients missing? For whom were they prepared originally?"

"No one," the Smith answered. "I just got bored. And when a smith gets bored, he forges. I can have ten more spears for you by sundown. Give me a full twenty-four hours and I can make twenty."

"I should like to have this matter resolved by sundown," the Huntsman ordered.

"Then you've just bought yourself thirty spears," the Smith answered. "What're you gonna use 'em for, anyway?"

"A personal matter," the Huntsman stated.

"You know…" The Smith's smile grew wider. "Rumors get around. I've wondered sometimes if my work was going into the slaying business. Killing magicals."

"And what would you think if that were the case?" the Huntsman asked.

"I wouldn't care," the Smith answered with a shrug. "Money's money."

"The harvest of capitalism aside," the Huntsman pressed, "would you ever use your own weapons to slay a magical creature?"

"That's a question no one's ever asked before," the Smith admitted. "But I can't say I haven't thought about it. See, I've had my TV blow out for no reason. The cable company says it's a fluke, but I already know it's gremlins. I came back to my car one night to see an honest-to-goodness hobgoblin running away with the stereo. The whole thing was gutted, steering wheel to engine, so I know a whole troop of 'em musta done it. Insurance only paid for part of it, and I knew I couldn't give a hobgoblin's decription to the cops. And all of those times, I thought…wouldn't I just love to put an arrow through 'em and be done. But I never do. I only think about it."

"That should change," the Huntsman urged.

"Yeah," the Smith agreed. "Really should. After all, I'm the guy with the right tech to do it."

"I am looking for others who share the same desire," the Huntsman admitted. "What I plan is to organize a hunt. That is the reason for the order of weaponry."

"I knew it," the Smith said in awe. "You really are him."

"Who do you think I am?"

"The Huntsmaster," the Smith stated. "I always knew it. That mark on your face. That's the dragon mark, isn't it?"

In the old days, the Huntsman would have dismissed this leg of the conversation with a curt remark. As it were, however, he sought the Smith's aid in more ways than one. "I can hardly be the Huntsmaster without a Huntsclan," he answered. "All of those with the dragon mark but myself were destroyed by a traitor in our midst." Technically, he too had been destroyed, but describing how he had returned would involve touching the topic he had resolved to let lie. "I am now forced to seek allies with those not touched by the mark, but who share my ideals. Those who wish to hunt down magical creatures and exterminate dragons from this world. Surely they exist."

"I know they do," the Smith confirmed. "They'd be relatively easy to find, too. Just gotta put a bug in the right ear."

"Can I count on you to do so before this evening?" the Huntsman asked.

"I'm only one guy here!" the Smith reminded him. "I still gotta make you ten spears! …But I suppose I could make a phone call and see where that goes."

"And I will conduct a search of my own," the Huntsman agreed, pulling out his scroll. "We will exchange contact information and report to each other our findings. We can recruit no more than twenty-nine, since, counting yourself, we can only arm thirty."

"What exactly are we being recruited for?" the Smith asked. "I need to know this before I say I'm in."

"A hunt," the Huntsman explained. "If all goes well, tonight, we will bring down the American Dragon once and for all."

"The American Dragon, huh?" the Smith repeated. "That's gonna be a tough target."

"All the sweeter of a victory," the Huntsman replied. "Should the dragon not make an appearance, we will simply take home a smaller prize. After all, we must have bait to lure the dragon in. I shall also work on acquiring that bait as I do my part."

"Against my better judgment," the Smith decided, "I'm in. To tell you the truth, being part of the Huntsclan never sounded that bad. But…no mark, so no go."

"As of today, it matters no more," the Huntsman assured him.

"So what happens if we kill the dragon?" the Smith asked.

"We move on to greater targets," the Huntsman replied. "There are still many dragons left in this world."

"And if the dragon beats us?"

"Do not speak as though that is a possibility," the Huntsman warned.

They exchanged numbers, then pocketed their devices. "I will contact you as evening draws near," the Huntsman announced. "I also require a place to collect our forces. Will this garage be available?"

"What, don't you have convention centers for that?" the Smith asked.

"All Huntsclan facilities have been compromised," the Huntsman informed him.

"All right," the Smith decided. "Might as well get used to it. After all, sounds like I'm gonna be the official smith for the new Huntsclan."

"You will be," the Huntsman said, "if all goes well."

"You just told me not to even think about it not going well."

The Huntsman was already making for the door. "For your sake," he announced, "it had better."

* * *

To relieve general boredom, Genie had decided to conjure up a croquet set in the middle of one of the courtyards. Cadance, Nick, Ren, and Xander had taken to it immediately and were having a wonderful time, hardly even competing with each other.

The problem was that Donald Duck had also joined in the game and was determined to win at all costs. Further exacerbating the problem was the fact that he was in dead last place.

"Stupid croquet ball…" he muttered as he lined up his shot. The ball rolled…and missed the wicket entirely. "WHADDAYA MEAN?" Donald screamed at the ball. "THAT WASN'T SUPPOSED TO MISS! STUPID BALL! WAAAHAHAHAHAAAK!"

"Maybe we should take a break for a while," Cadance suggested.

"Maybe we should just let him win," Ren whispered to Xander.

"NO BREAKS!" Donald insisted. "I'm gonna win this thing fair and square!"

On his next turn, he rejoiced when, unbeknownst to him, Genie discreetly used his magic to slip the ball through two wickets in a row. The fact that the ball had curved in a trajectory impossible to achieve in a single stroke bypassed Donald completely.

Goofy walked out onto the field in the heat of the game. "Hey there, Donald!" he greeted. "Who's winnin'?"

"Donald is totally catching up to us," Ren said hurriedly. He, Cadance, Nick, and Xander had an unspoken agreement to hold back their own prowess at the game and act as if they'd never seen a croquet mallet in their lives.

"Good to hear!" Goofy laughed. "Y'know, Donald can be kind of a sore lo – "

"I AM NOT A SORE LOSER!" Donald insisted.

"Well, gawrsh, sorry," Goofy said sheepishly. "Actually, I was lookin' for ya. Mickey wanted to stick around a bit longer before headin' back home, and I just remembered somethin' about this town that might interest ya."

"Oh yeah?" Donald said curiously.

"Doesn't your uncle Scrooge have a house in town?" Goofy reminded him. "I just thought you might wanna pay him a visit!"

"Aw, geez…" Donald slumped. "I should, shouldn't I? After all, he is family."

"Is there something wrong?" Cadance asked.

"Did you have a falling-out?" Nick added.

"No," Donald clarified. "We have a good relationship. Visiting relatives just gets stressful!"

"Well, would you want company if you went?" Xander asked. "I'd be happy to go."

"So would I!" Cadance volunteered.

"Ready to assist if needed!" Genie said with a salute.

Nick and Ren exchanged looks, then shrugged. "As long as we're all here," Ren resolved.

"You'd all really come along on a visit just for me?" Donald said, rather touched. "It's just visiting relatives. It's not like fighting Heartless or anything."

"We're friends," Cadance reminded him. "We help each other out. If you don't want us there, then we won't come."

"No, no, you should definitely come along!" Donald asserted. "What about you, Goofy?"

"Count me in!" Goofy said before suddenly realizing: "Oh, whoops! Almost forgot. Cid wanted some extra help in the Gummi garage today, and I said I'd be there for him! He's got some important work to do today with delicate mechanisms and fragile Gummi blocks, and I figure I'm just the guy to help out with the job!"

Nobody wanted to break Goofy's enthusiasm by pointing out the obvious flaw in that logic.

"Anyway," Goofy said as he turned to leave with a wave, "have fun with the visit!"

"I already feel bad for Cid," Nick whispered to Xander.

"Let's hit the road!" Genie encouraged, and the group of six made their way off the croquet court.

"By the way," Donald declared, "I was closest to winning, so I'm calling this game my victory!"

No one wanted to argue with that either.

* * *

Scrooge McDuck's manor was on the very edge of town: a towering structure with gables and a tower, adhering to a Victorian style of architecture.

"It's beautiful," Cadance complimented.

"Your uncle must be pretty rich to live here," Nick observed.

"One of the richest people I know in all the worlds!" Donald confirmed. "He's been working on setting up an inter-world transit system AND running his own shop in town!"

Before anyone could ask what kind of shop Scrooge ran, Donald had already rung the doorbell. Quick to answer was an elderly duck clad in a red jacket and a black top hat. "Donald!" Scrooge cried once he saw who had arrived. "Good to see ya, lad!" He enveloped Donald in a hug that Donald found rather awkward.

"Uh…good to see you too," Donald replied.

Scrooge backed off to observe the party at large: "And ye brought friends! Come in, come in, all! Ye're just in time!"

"In time for what?" Ren wondered out loud.

"Ye'll see!" Scrooge insisted.

He led them down an ornate hallway, carpeted in soft, plush red and ornamented with gold leaf. "Your home is just as beautiful on the inside as on the outside," Cadance observed.

"Why, thank ya, m'dear!" Scrooge replied. "Er…what is your name?"

"I'm Cadance," Cadance replied. "Princess Cadance."

"A princess!" Scrooge cried. "Well, then, ye must be treated like royalty! And who might the rest of yer friends be?"

"I'm Nick," Nick introduced.

"Xander," Xander chimed in. "Very, very nice to meet you. Lovely home you've got."

"The one!" Genie announced. "The only! GENIE FORMERLY OF THE LAMP!"

Scrooge thought back to another genie he'd known, observing that there was most definitely more than one genie of a lamp, but he knew better than to dispute the claim.

"My name is Lie Ren," Ren added. "We're all very pleased to meet you."

"I do think I've seen some of ye out in town," Scrooge realized, "come to think of it. Ye look quite distinct. No doubt ye've met Huey, Dewey, and Louie runnin' the shops."

"We have," Xander confirmed. "A little young to be running businesses, aren't they?"

"That's what I told them!" Scrooge asserted. "And yet they insisted! I couldnae hardly turn them down, could I? After all, they've got a head for business, just the way their old Uncle Scrooge does! They're out makin' their munny right now as we speak."

"Do they usually live here?" Cadance asked.

"Indeed they do!" Scrooge confirmed. "And they've been most helpful in testing new product for me own shop!"

"Testing product?" Nick repeated. "What kind of product?"

By this time, they had arrived at an arched wooden door that Scrooge eased open to reveal a dining room with a long, polished wooden table beneath a vaulted ceiling festooned with a crystal chandelier. "Why, the ice cream, of course!" he declared. "I've been expandin' flavors, and just whipped up several new batches today! Ye came just in time to test 'em out! An' here I was thinkin' I would have to try these all meself!" He gestured to where a cooler buffet was lined up parallel to the table against one wall.

"ICE CREAM!" Donald cried in excitement. "OH BOY!" Without asking further, he charged for the cooler.

"Go on, go on!" Scrooge encouraged. "I need to know how well the flavors go over! Pick one out and have a seat!"

"Free ice cream?" Nick reiterated. "You're a pretty cool guy."

"Looks like it's time to chow down!" Genie announced, summoning up his own bowl and spoon.

The others took dishes and silverware from the end of the cooler, each selecting a flavor from the cooler's variety. Everything from red bean to coconut to cookie dough to mango was available, and the group didn't waste the opportunity to try it all, some even taking a scoop of two flavors and combining it in the same bowl. Once all had selected their flavors of choice, they gathered around the end of the long table, with Scrooge at the head.

"So, tell me, Donald!" Scrooge encouraged. "How've ye been?"

"Aw, we just keep gettin' wrapped up in mess after mess!" Donald complained in between bites.

"That's not surprisin'," Scrooge laughed. "Adventure's in our blood, after all."

"A seasoned adventurer, eh?" Genie reiterated. "Care to tell us some of your résumé?"

"Back home in Duckburg," Scrooge explained, "ye can't go a day without somethin' disturbin' the peace, from sorceresses to supervillains! I've also been around the world more than a few times. Even back in time! That was what inspired me to look out to discover other worlds: to try something new. That, and the business opportunities were certainly quite the glittering prize!"

"So you live here now?" Xander questioned.

"Well, not entirely," Scrooge explained. "This is a second home. Me true home is still in Duckburg. The boys have more of a fluid definition of home. I've looked after them for quite a while, but many a day, they're under Donald's care."

Donald muttered several unintelligible curses of anger under his breath to let the others know how he felt about having to look after Huey, Dewey, and Louie.

"How is the ice cream, by the way?" Scrooge asked. "Anything that requires improvement?"

"This tastes very good," Ren stated. "I don't see any room for improvement as being necessary."

"It's definitely delicious!" Cadance corroborated. "I'd say it's ready for the sales floor!"

"I'll give it an eleven out of ten!" Genie agreed.

Nick, Donald, and Xander gave their agreement while continuing to eat.

"Good!" Scrooge replied. "Without fresh flavors, the business would die out! I've got to keep rotating in new things! I've a list of all the delicacies enjoyed in the frozen treat business, but I think it best to start with the sweet flavors before introducing the likes of squid ink or garlic."

"Okay, that sounds disgusting," Nick said plainly.

"Ye'd be surprised who'd disagree with ya," Scrooge told him.

Genie shrugged. "I'd try it!"

"Just don't get rid of the sea salt!" Donald urged. "That's your most classic flavor!"

"Of course I wouldn't rotate out the sea salt!" Scrooge insisted. "D'ya take me for a fool? That's me best seller! Gettin' rid of sea salt would cause the business to plunge into the ground!"

"I've never had sea salt ice cream," Xander admitted. "It sounds exotic."

"Ye've got to try it sometime!" Scrooge urged. "They tell me it tastes nostalgic, like friendship. Not quite sure how ice cream can taste like friendship, but if it makes a profit, who am I to argue?"

"Is that how you can afford to live like this?" Cadance asked. "From the ice cream shop?"

"Well, I've got several business endeavors running here in town," Scrooge told her, "mostly to do with establishing inter-world banking, but the majority of this does come from the ice cream. I haven't even made a fraction of the fortune I keep back home in Duckburg, though."

"Then you must have an amazing life back in Duckburg," Xander pointed out.

Noting the bowls of the group were all empty, Scrooge suggested, "I could give ye a little tour and show ye the fruits of me labor if ye were interested."

"We'd love a tour!" Cadance said eagerly.

Within a few minutes, the group of seven was headed down to the basement levels. "I'm startin' with the most important piece of the manor," Scrooge announced, stopping before an enormous metal door. He entered a code into a keypad that sealed it; the door slid open, letting the group walk beyond. "This is what I've accumulated so far. Feast yer eyes!"

"Whoa," Xander, Nick, Genie, Cadance, and Ren said in unison. Donald had known what to expect and wasn't overly surprised.

They stood on a ledge overlooking an immense vault. Before them, filling up the vault, were millions of munny crystals, sparkling in the overhead lighting.

"You're very lucky," Cadance remarked as she took in the sight.

"It's only part luck," Scrooge assured her, "and part good business sense!"

"Yeah, yeah, everyone knows about the vault!" Donald complained. "It's no big deal!"

"This is a pretty big deal," Nick confirmed to him.

"Now," Scrooge bade the group, "ye won't go stealin' any when me back is turned, will ye?"

"Of course not!" Cadance asserted.

"We're the heroes, after all," Xander added. "We wouldn't do a thing like that."

"Heroes, eh?" Scrooge repeated. "What kind of heroes?"

"Lots of kinds of heroes," Ren explained. "We all have different stories."

Scrooge led them out of the vault as the metal door sealed behind them. "Do explain," he bade them. "I want to hear every bit of it on the course of this tour!"

* * *

The Gummi ship touched down on one of the outer islands of Jabberwock. Almost immediately, Kazuichi burst out of the door in order to unload the contents of his stomach into the ocean.

"You okay?" Ruby asked as she exited the ship after him.

Kazuichi gave her a weak thumbs-up as he stood shakily.

Sora, Papyrus, Stork, Katara, and Jasmine disembarked as well. "So this is your home," Jasmine observed.

"More like my prison," Kazuichi grumbled.

"You know," Sora remarked, "that sounds a lot like something I used to hear from someone I know."

"I'm glad to be back anyway," Kazuichi sighed. "I missed my friends. And I gotta let Miss Sonia know I'm okay. The only problem is now I'm gonna miss you guys, too. You really know how to make a guy's abduction and shuffle from world to world not so bad."

"That's kind of our job," Sora replied.

"Well, now that Leon put the ban on bringing home any new friends, that part of our job is going to have to come to an end," Stork pointed out.

"Which is really unfair," Katara asserted. "Just because it went badly one time! And we DO have the hourglass now!"

"Well, they were kind of right about me being one of the Norts," Kazuichi reminded her. "I almost was."

"I almost was, too," Sora contributed.

"Wait, really?" Kazuichi asked.

"Long story," Sora told him. "Maybe I'll tell it to you if we see each other again."

"I hope we can see each other again," Kazuichi said somberly. "Maybe with less crazy bullshit – nah, you know what? I was just starting to get used to the crazy bullshit."

"I'm gonna wait in the ship," Stork announced. "Keep her running for takeoff to Corona. I'm guessing the rest of you wanna walk Kazuichi to the hotel."

"Yeah," Ruby confirmed. "I wanna save that goodbye for later."

"So, uh…" Stork shuffled his feet. "It was nice meeting you. I'm guessing you want a romantic interest of some sort to come into my life, and I only bring this up because as much as you want that for me, I hope someday you meet the rocket ship of your dreams."

"Man, that means so much," Kazuichi replied, blinking rapidly and forcing himself not to tear up this soon. "Think of me next time you see a really cool airship, okay?"

"I can manage that," Stork replied. "Here's to friends you start out thinking are serial killers."

"Yeah," Kazuichi agreed with a nod.

"I'll see the rest of you in a few minutes," Stork said as he boarded the Gummi ship.

"Well," Sora told Kazuichi, "lead the way!"

Hajime, Fuyuhiko, Akane, and Sonia were once again gathered around the dining room table. "I tried sending his phone another text," Hajime announced. "It got bounced back again."

"I don't think he's gonna answer," Fuyuhiko said somberly.

"It doesn't seem likely," Hajime agreed. "But if I stopped trying, I'd be giving up hope. And Makoto wouldn't want me to give up hope. And…I don't think Chiaki would, either."

"Shouldn't we be worried about that guy that took him?" Akane brought up. "How did he just show up in the fucking room like that? Is he gonna come back for the rest of us?"

"We must protect each other," Sonia insisted. "Kazuichi thought to do what the rest of us did not. I am ashamed that I did not have the courage to volunteer my own self."

"Don't go beatin' yourself up about that!" Fuyuhiko barked. "You're right! We gotta protect each other! But next time, none of us is getting taken! Kazuichi took one for us, so we can't waste it!"

"Part of me still hopes against hope that he will come back," Sonia mourned. "He could be truly aggravating, but he meant well, and he was one of us. I keep thinking he will come up that stairway when we are least expecting it."

"That's not going to happen," Hajime told her. "If we really want him back…we're going to have to go out and look for him."

"How?" Akane asked. "We can't even leave this island without Future Foundation pointing all its guns at us."

"We'll ask Makoto," Hajime suggested. "He might know a way. I just know Kazuichi isn't going to magically appear in this room – "

"Did someone ask me to magically show up?"  
The voice got all four heads to turn toward the stairway. Kazuichi stood at its top, giving his friends a toothy grin. "You guys sure set me up for one hell of an entrance," he remarked.

"KAZUICHI!" the four chorused, rushing to him, practically tackling him in a group hug.

"Whoa!" Kazuichi laughed. "Don't make it all awkward! Though I will say a hug from Miss Sonia is never awkward – "

"I even missed your unhealthily obsessive comments toward me!" Sonia admitted.

"Hey!" Kazuichi retorted. "Who's unhealthily obsessed?"

By that time, Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, Jasmine, and Katara had also entered the room. Hajime noticed them first, backing off from the collective embrace. "Who're you?" he asked accusatorily.

"They brought me home!" Kazuichi explained.

"Is that a…" Hajime looked directly to Papyrus. Once Fuyuhiko, Sonia, and Akane noticed him, they took a few steps backward.

"YES," Papyrus confirmed, "I AM A TALKING SKELETON. THAT SEEMS TO BE AN ODDITY ON MANY WORLDS. I CAN ASSURE YOU I MEAN YOU NO HARM."

"Many…worlds?" Sonia repeated.

"You wouldn't believe it!" Kazuichi said excitedly. "That guy who kidnapped me took me to a whole other world, and these guys saved me and brought me to another one! They have all these complicated adventures, and they have real magic out there!"

"It's true!" Sora confirmed.

"You're right," Fuyuhiko agreed. "I don't believe it."

"But Kazuichi would not lie to us about this," Sonia asserted.

"Yeah, it's pretty weird for most people to believe at first," Ruby assured, "but then they get over it eventually."

Sora put his hand out to Hajime. "I'm Sora," he said.

"I, uh…" Hajime gingerly shook Sora's hand. "Hajime Hinata."

"Ruby Rose!" Ruby introduced, putting out her hand toward Sonia. "And you've gotta be Sonia! Kazuichi was right; you are really pretty."

"Why, thank you," Sonia said as she shook Ruby's hand.

"THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AT YOUR SERVICE!" Papyrus introduced, stepping forward.

Fuyuhiko took his bony hand and shook it. "Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu," he replied with a smirk. "Not in need of anyone's service right now, but thanks for the offer anyway."

"My name is Jasmine," Jasmine volunteered as she stepped in.

Akane caught her hand up; "I'm Akane Owari!"

"I'm Katara," Katara said as she realized there was no one left for her to greet. She shrugged it off.

"Thanks for bringing Kazuichi back," Hajime told Sora. "And saving him from that guy."

"It's what we do!" Sora said proudly. "I'm just glad you could all get back together again. I would never wanna worry about a friend the way you all had to."

Kazuichi turned to face his five rescuers. "I, uh…I guess this is goodbye," he stated. "Thanks again for everything."

"We're really gonna miss you!" Ruby said passionately.

"I'm sure we'll see each other again," Sora promised. "I'll make sure it happens. It's just…too bad we couldn't spend more time together."

"The Committee's rule is worth breaking," Jasmine asserted. "But it is best that we got you home."

"Good luck out there," Kazuichi told them. "With all that stuff you have to do, and getting that sundrop before that Moze-guy does. And maybe…" A new thought was occurring to him. "Maybe…"

He turned back to look at Hajime, Akane, Fuyuhiko, and Sonia, taking note especially of the shine in the eyes of the last. "Would you guys have worried about me," he asked, "if you knew I was okay?"

"Well…" Hajime tried to form the best answer to the question.

"If we knew you were out there havin' a good time," Fuyuhiko said with a smile, "we wouldn't sweat it at all!"

"So long as you are safe," Sonia agreed.

"You know what?" Kazuichi said, a sudden surge of determination flowing through him. "No! I'm not staying here! I CAN'T stay here!" He turned back to Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, Jasmine, and Katara. "I'm going with you!"

"But why?" Jasmine asked. "This world is your home, and your friends – "

"Still have a big problem, remember?" Kazuichi reminded the group. "We've still got everyone sleeping underground who we have to wake up! Nobody knows how to do it here, but out there, you have magic and shit! You have all those different worlds! There've gotta be answers out there! Someone's gotta wake up all our friends, and I'm gonna be the one to do it!" He faced Hajime, Akane, Fuyuhiko, and Sonia once more. "You guys will be fine without me, right?"

"Yeah," Hajime said with a smile. "It's like Sonia and Fuyuhiko said. If we know you're fine, we won't be worried."

"I wanted to get off this island so bad anyway," Kazuichi reiterated. "Miss Sonia, maybe you could come with us, too!"

Sonia shook her head. "It is already strange enough that one of us will be missing when Makoto checks in next time. I do not think any more should go."

"Sonia's right," Hajime insisted. "If you're going to go, Kazuichi, the rest of us should stay."

"Are you sure you want the one who goes to be…well…you?" Akane asked. "You're not exactly the heroic type."

"I AM SO THE HEROIC TYPE!" Kazuichi insisted. "Now I gotta go just to prove that to all of you! You can all kick back and relax from now on, because I've got this! I'm gonna figure out a way to wake everyone up!" He fixed his gaze upon Sonia's eyes. "Even that stupid Gundham!"

Sonia was taken back to hear him speak of rescuing the man he had called a rival. "If you can," she said, "that would be a miracle."

"We'll all figure it out together!" Ruby cried.

"We do have a lot of things to balance," Jasmine reminded Kazuichi. "We might not be able to get to your friends right away."

"Yeah, I know," Kazuichi affirmed. "First, we gotta deal with the Norts and Moze-face. I'm all in!"

"We'll MAKE the Committee deal with having you on board!" Katara asserted.

"YOU'RE PART OF OUR TEAM NOW!" Papyrus declared.

"ENGINES REVVING!" Kazuichi confirmed.

Hajime clapped a hand on Kazuichi's shoulder. "Have fun out there," he directed.

"I knew I was gonna be saying goodbye to someone here," Kazuichi muttered. "I didn't think it would be you. Thanks, Hajime."

"For what?" Hajime asked.

"Well, if you hadn't taught me how to trust you back in Neo World," Kazuichi explained, "I wouldn't have been able to make any of my new friends."

"Well, you're welcome, I guess," Hajime said with a shrug.

"KAZUICHI GETS TO STAY WITH US!" Ruby screamed as she threw her arms around Kazuichi.

"Hey, stop that!" he complained. "You're choking me!"

Ruby eventually let go, and she, Sora, Papyrus, Jasmine, Katara, and even Kazuichi departed from the dining hall, waving their goodbyes to Hajime, Akane, Fuyuhiko, and Sonia.

"You really think he's gonna be okay?" Akane asked once the group was gone. "This is Kazuichi we're talking about."

"He'll be fine!" Fuyuhiko asserted. "He's a survivor like the rest of us!"

"Anyway," Hajime said, "we have to figure out what story we're going to tell Makoto."

"Why not the truth?" Sonia asked.

"I really don't think he'll buy it," Hajime told her.

From the pilot's seat of the ship, Stork heard the footsteps of his friends returning. He turned to address them and noticed Kazuichi among their number. "Um…" he commented, "what's going on?"

"We're going to Corona!" Sora asserted.

"Seriously?" Stork groaned.

"Is there a problem?" Katara asked sharply.

"What did we come here SPECIFICALLY to do?" Stork asked.

"Drop off Kazuichi," Ruby answered.

"And WHO just got back on my ship?" Stork continued.

"WE CAN'T JUST LEAVE HIM NOW!" Papyrus argued. "WHAT ABOUT HIS SLEEPING FRIENDS? WE HAVE TO FIND A WAY TO WAKE THEM UP!"

"I'm sure the Committee is going to understand that," Stork replied, "while they're making Kazuichi feel right at home by offering him A PITCHER OF MILK AND A PLATE OF COOKIES! WE ARE GOING TO GET IN SO MUCH TROUBLE WHEN WE SHOW BACK UP WITH HIM!"

"The Committee was wrong," Jasmine asserted. "We just have to find a way to make them see that."

Stork rolled his eyes. "Fine. FINE. We'll take him back."

"Hey, I thought you'd be happier to see me!" Kazuichi snapped.

"I'm not UNhappy," Stork sighed. "I'm just…well…if you all think this is the right move, I'm going to have to trust you."

"IT IS DEFINITELY THE RIGHT MOVE," Papyrus insisted.

Stork put the ship in gear. "Let's head out to Corona. Kazuichi, you realize that by coming with us, you're just signing yourself up to get repeatedly airsick, right?"

"I survived the first two rides," Kazuichi pointed out. "And if I'm gonna build rocket ships, I'm gonna have to get used to it anyway!"

"Then let's go," Stork declared, lifting the ship off from the island.

In no time at all, Kazuichi was back to laying on the floor, and everyone realized they'd rather have it no other way.

* * *

Fleeting as the glimpse was, the image of the Huntsman atop the roof did not leave Jake Long's mind throughout the school period of the next day. During lunch, he sat down and stirred the chicken and gravy on his tray without eating it, his mind elsewhere.

His reverie was only broken somewhat when Rose sat next to him. "Hey," the blonde greeted. "Rough day?"

"Yeah," Jake replied. "You?"

"I've been fine," Rose answered. "Less homework than usual. But what's wrong? Do you wanna talk about it?"  
Rose's very presence at the school had been complicated. Thanks to a wish from Jake, she had lived out two lives, the latter overwriting the former in her timeline. Once, she had been the Huntsgirl, killer of magical creatures who had turned her views around and caused the end of the Huntsclan instead, wishing upon the crystal skulls to destroy them all. Jake had intercepted the skulls, granting her a life in which the Huntsclan had never captured her at birth, and she had lived out a tranquil life with her family, moving to Hong Kong. A fateful encounter with Jake had brought back her memories of that first life, reminding her not only of the atrocities she had endured and committed but also of the love she had felt for Jake as they had struggled to find peace. Once Jake had returned to America, Rose had discovered a foreign exchange program that would let her study at his school for a year, and took advantage of it, staying with a host family. Even though they knew their time together was temporary before they would have to navigate a long-distance relationship, Jake and Rose had made the most of their proximity, growing closer than ever.

Jake thought, at first, that he couldn't simply bring up the Huntsman again to Rose. She would be reminded of the abuse she had suffered at his hands and the things she had done that had, miraculously, been taken back, but still made a nest in her memory. Especially not for a fluke. "Nah, not really," he answered, still stirring his food.

Trixie Carter and Arthur "Spud" Spudinski settled in across from Jake and Rose at the table. "You still feeling weird?" Spud asked Jake, having been in class with him earlier to notice.

"It's nothing," Jake said, eyes still down on his tray.

"It is not nothing," Trixie insisted. "Jakie, you've been actin' weird all day!"

"He's been like this all day?" Rose reiterated. "Jake, there is seriously something wrong. You know you can tell us anything."

"I dunno about this," Jake moaned.

"At least eat something," Rose encouraged. "You have to have SOME food in your system."

"I dunno," Spud broke in, poking at his food. "This might not really count as 'food.'"

"Okay, that's fair," Rose admitted.

"I am not gonna deal with you mopin' around all day and not tellin' us what's wrong!" Trixie insisted. "Tell. Us. What. Happened!"

"All right, all right," Jake relented. "I'm just…not sure if it even was anything. I might've just been seeing things. I just saw something last night that I COULDN'T have seen."

"Like what?" Rose asked in concern.

"Like…" Jake trailed off, turning to look Rose in the eye and finding himself unable to form the words.

"This…has something to do with me, doesn't it?" Rose realized. "Then that's all the more reason I need to know."

"Like I said, it was probably just a hallucination," Jake continued. "I'm surprised I didn't have one of this exact thing before. But it's the fact that I never DID that's getting to me."

"Did you see an army of clowns?" Spud asked. "Because I know if I ever thought I saw an army of clowns, that would throw me off all day."

"No," Jake said somberly, looking around at the group. Lowering his voice, he admitted, "Last night, I thought I saw the Huntsman."

"Whaaaaat?" Trixie replied.

Spud flinched, but Rose was unmoved, simply nodding.

"That can't be right," Spud babbled. "There's no Huntsclan anymore! Rose wished them all off the face of the earth! They're all gone!"

"Exactly," Jake affirmed. "Which is why this is probably nothing. It just…keeps bugging me. Like maybe I shouldn't write it off."

"But there ain't no way to bring anybody back from the dead!" Trixie insisted.

"That's not entirely true," Rose argued. "Remember when you fought the Huntsman over the scarab? That beetle had the power to bring former members of the Huntsclan back to life."

"So you're saying it COULD have been the Huntsman?" Jake said in a sudden panic. "For REAL?"

"I'm saying I don't know," Rose admitted. "It might have just been a trick of the light. But if you have a feeling like you shouldn't write it off, well, maybe that means something."

"I don't wanna fight the Huntsman again!" Jake moaned.

"Why not?" Spud countered. "You did kick his butt all the other times."

"Yeah," Jake agreed, "but that still means he's BACK. What's gonna happen to the whole magical world if it really is him?"

"Uh-oh," Trixie said suddenly.

"What's uh-oh?" Jake asked. "WHAT IS UH-OH?"

"Well…I just thought of somethin'," Trixie admitted. "Somethin' you don't wanna hear."

"I think we NEED to hear it," Rose told her.

"Well, it's just like this," Trixie explained. "The Huntsclan was just the people with those dragon birthmarks. But they mighta had copycats who never got the mark. What if somebody who just really liked the Huntsclan found the last Huntsman's outfit?"

"A new Huntsman!" Spud realized. "Why didn't we think of it before? This kind of thing happens all the time with comic book supervillains!"

"Aw, maaaan…" Jake pushed aside his tray to drop his head on his arms on the table. "I thought things were gonna be so much better for everyone once that guy was gone. And now he's either back from the dead or he has a copycat."

"Or it was just something you thought you saw," Rose reminded him. "But no matter what, if you have to fight, I'll be right there with you."

"I couldn't ask you to fight the Huntsclan again," Jake told her.

"I know," Rose replied. "Which is why I volunteered. We're in this together."

"This is why you two are a power couple," Spud commented.

"No matter what, things are gonna turn out okay," Rose insisted.

"You think?" Jake asked.

"I know," Rose told him.

Jake straightened up, starting to eat. "This really doesn't count as food, you know," he said around a full mouth.

The rest of the school day passed by in relative peace; then Jake, Rose, Trixie, and Spud found themselves walking home through the city.

"That last Rotwood lecture was actually surprisingly accurate," Rose laughed.

"I swear, now that he's actually making peace with the magical world, he's been surprisingly responsible about it," Jake agreed. "I wonder how much effort it took him to admit he didn't actually know anything."

"I'm just glad it's showin' up in our grades!" Trixie declared.

That was when the pair rushed in and accosted Jake, each person grabbing one of his arms as they hurried him into a nearby alley. "HEY!" Jake cried as he was abducted.

"JAKE!" Trixie and Spud cried as one.

Rose took the lead, charging after the kidnappers. Trixie and Spud followed as she hustled down the alley, spotting Jake and the dual abductors standing at its end. Flipping into a handspring to give a preview of what she could do, Rose landed in a defensive position, hand outward. "Let him go," she warned.

"Rose, it's okay!" Jake said hurriedly. "It's just the Oracle Twins!"

"Huh?" Rose took a better look at the situation; Trixie and Spud had arrived behind her, now seeing what she saw. Jake had been dragged down the alley by the clairvoyants Sara and Kara. While both girls were natural redheads, each had gone through a phase where she had changed the color of her hair to reflect her personality. Sara, ever chipper and agreeable due to being plagued with visions of negative outcomes that replayed in her nightmares and made her grateful for even the least bit of good, still had blonde streaks in her hair, though it had mostly faded back to orange. Kara kept up dyeing hers raven-black to match the inner emptiness she felt from seeing nothing but positivity in her visions, this having dulled her lust for the actual good in life.

"Hey, long time, no see!" Spud greeted, waving cheerily.

"Hiiiii!" Sara cried, waving back. "It's a party! EVERYONE'S here!"

"We didn't come to hang out," Kara grumbled.

"What's going on?" Rose asked.

"We had something important to tell Jake," Kara spat. "Something I know he's not gonna wanna hear."

"Huh?" Jake replied. "What is it? Awww, it better not be what I think it iiiiiis…"

"Go ahead, Sara," Kara grunted. "It was YOUR vision."

"Guess what?" Sara led in as though urging Jake to think a pleasant surprise was coming. "According to my visions, the Huntsman is back, and he's going to round up a whole bunch of people to try and root out every magical creature in Central Park and hunt them all down tonight! Talk about the plot twist of the century!"

"No!" Jake moaned. "It was just supposed to be a fluke! I don't want him to be back!"

"Is it the same one we knew?" Rose asked. "Or a copycat?"

"Hmmm," Sara realized, "I don't actually know! All I saw was the cape and the helmet, and we all know what that means!"

"Yeah, we do," Jake grunted. "Kara? Do we beat him? Did you see?"

"Neither of us saw anything like that," Kara grunted. "We don't know if he beats us or we beat him."

"Great," Jake groaned. "I guess we can add the Huntsclan back to our list." He suddenly brightened; "Though now, we know the first place he's going to strike. We can get ahead of him!"

"How are you gonna get AHEAD of him?" Trixie asked.

"I don't know how you wanna do it," Sara chimed in, "but you'd better figure out something, because he has a loooooot of people with him! Or at least, he will tonight!"

"Don't even try and talk me out of fighting alongside you," Rose insisted. "I'm going to be there no matter what."

"Us against an entire new Huntsclan?" Jake mused. "I mean, I've fought a lot of them at once before, but that just makes it harder. I'm starting to wonder, though."

"Wonder what?" Rose asked.

"I can think of a few other people who'd want to get a little payback at the Huntsman," Jake realized. "If he's bringing an army, we can bring one of our own."

Rose nodded. "The more people we can get on our side, the faster we can make him not ever want to mess with us again."

Jake whipped out his phone, dialing a number. "I'm telling Grandpa I'm gonna be late getting home," he announced. "We have some stops to make."

* * *

Corona was, simply put, gorgeous. The wonderfully clear weather, warm punctuated with a light breeze, was the cherry on top of the cheerily designed buildings situated on the hill leading up to the magnificent castle.

"It's so beautiful," Katara observed.

"It's pretty neat!" Sora agreed.

"DEFINITELY A SIGHT TO BEHOLD!" Papyrus concurred.

"It's like something straight out of a fairy tale," Kazuichi observed. "Could use some more tech, though. How much trouble do you think we'd get in if we introduced these people to cars?"

"Let's not go there," Stork suggested.

"So where do we start?" Ruby asked.

"Well," Jasmine suggested, "if we just take a look around town, we're bound to find something that can show us the way."

"WHY NOT WALK RIGHT UP TO THE CASTLE?" Papyrus asked.

"I have seen guards everywhere," Stork said hushedly, watching another patrol of golden-helmeted men walk down a side street. "This seems like a high-security kingdom. I'm guessing they won't take well to strangers."

"It's not like they don't know we're here," Kazuichi pointed out. "People are already staring."

It was true; every now and then, someone would catch sight of the group and either move on quickly or whisper to a friend.

"It seems to be all humans here," Stork observed. "I'm guessing they're talking about me and Papyrus. And probably writing us off as really convincing costumes."

"IT'S A PITY," Papyrus sighed. "I WAS HOPING PERHAPS THIS WOULD BE A WORLD THAT WOULD RECOGNIZE MONSTERS."

"There are plenty of worlds out there that do," Sora promised. "Worlds where there aren't even any humans at all!"

"But for now," Jasmine said, "if anyone has a complaint, we'll just have to make them see that there are people out there who are different, and they just need to accept that."

Ruby suddenly halted, catching a scent in the air. "Waaaaaiiiit a minute…" She veered off course, following her nose to a building whose sign proclaimed it to be named "Atilla the Bun." "There's something delicious in here," she said before disappearing into the shop.

"Hey, wait up!" Kazuichi called after her; he followed, bringing the others in tow.

Ruby had found a bakery laden with pastries of all sorts: cream puffs, cupcakes, éclairs, and sweets she didn't even recognize. She surged right up to the counter, greeting "Hi!" to the owner.

The owner, a tall, bulky man whose horned helmet obscured his face, turned to see her. "Hello," he said in a tone that was gruff but not unfriendly. "Can I help you get anything?"

"YES!" Ruby squealed.

Kazuichi stepped in right next to her. "Don't leave me out of this!" he insisted. "This stuff looks delicious!"

"I'll take one of those cupcakes with a strawberry on top," Ruby said, pointing, "and one cream puff."

"Aw, Ruby!" Kazuichi told her. "You didn't have to buy me anything!"

Ruby looked at him blankly before saying, "Both of those are for me."

"Oh," Kazuichi said in realization. "Well, then, I'll have one of those chocolate bun things."

"One cupcake, one cream puff, and one éclair, coming up!" Attila proclaimed, moving about the shop to gather the orders. It was good to get some business rolling in. The previous day, he'd suffered a hit to his profits when an entire order of cupcakes had simply gone missing; he suspected a thief.

"Do you really think you should be eating that much sugar?" Katara asked Ruby. "One dessert would be fine, but two is a lot!"

"Um, do YOU really think you're my MOM?" Ruby retorted, growing a little frustrated. "I can eat what I want! I'm a grown-up!"

"No, you're not," Katara told her, "and even grown-ups have their limits – "

"STOP TELLING ME WHAT I CAN AND CAN'T EAT!" Ruby shrieked.

"I'm just gonna…" Kazuichi backed off slowly. "Not…make this worse…"

"Hey," Sora brought up as Attila rang up the purchases, "you wouldn't happen to know anything about a sundrop, would you?"

"A sundrop?" Attila repeated. "Like the one that healed the queen when she was giving birth to Rapunzel?"

"That sounds right!" Sora confirmed.

"That's about all I know about that story," Attila confessed. "You wanna know who knows everything there is to know around here, though? You should talk to Xavier the blacksmith. I bet he knows how that sundrop story turned out."

"Thank you," Jasmine replied. "You're very kind."

"Well, you're welcome," Attila said somewhat bashfully.

"You're also not half as scary as you look," Stork told him.

"Thanks!" Attila said sincerely while giving Stork a thumbs-up.

They departed the bakery, Ruby and Kazuichi happily gnawing on their treats. "So we're looking for Xavier now," Sora reiterated.

"ALLOW ME TO ASK FOR DIRECTIONS!" Papyrus decided. He stepped in front of a pair of young Coronans; "EXCUSE ME! WHICH WAY IS IT TO XAVIER THE BLACKSMITH?"

"Whoa," one of the children said, pointing at Papyrus. "Cool costume!"

So that was what they thought of him, and probably Stork. "ER…THANK…YOU?" Papyrus replied, rather dismayed.

"How'd you get it to look so real?" the child went on.

"THROUGH THE LONG AND DIFFICULT PROCESS OF NOT BEING RELEVANT TO THIS CONVERSATION!" Papyrus replied. "COULD YOU PLEASE TELL US WHICH WAY TO XAVIER?"

"Yeah," the other child said. "His shop is up the hill, that way." She pointed.

"THANK YOU!" Papyrus told them. "YOUR KINDNESS WILL BE REMEMBERED ON BEHALF OF ALL OF RADIANT GARDEN!"

The children ran away laughing, sure Papyrus was part of some intricate roleplay or theater production.

"THEY REALLY DON'T UNDERSTAND, DO THEY?" Papyrus sighed.

Sora approached him and patted him sympathetically on the back. "Maybe one day they will here," he suggested. "After the worlds get to know each other better."

"You really think that's a good idea?" Stork asked.

"Why not?" Sora replied. "Everyone can make friends on other worlds if they learn they're out there! We'll all be better together!"

"I agree," Jasmine stated.

"And high-tech worlds can show the other worlds cars!" Kazuichi chimed in.

"Not really the priority here," Stork told him.

"It's going to take something pretty big to get all the worlds to know about each other," Katara pointed out. "I'm not sure it'll ever happen."

"Well, I think it will," Sora told her. "Look at us! We're the start of it!"

Everyone else concurred that this group, at least, was a demonstration of how the worlds could mingle.

They followed the child's directions as far as they could; once they got lost, Jasmine took over the next ask for directions, and Papyrus the next after that. Eventually, they made it to the forge, which radiated heat as its wares were hung up on display in the street.

"OHMYGOSHOHMYGOSHOHMYGOOOOOOSH!" Ruby zipped to a rack of shining swords. "CLASSICS!"

A quite large man with a striking white beard approached Ruby from the other side. "I see you like my swords," he said with a smile.

"I LOVE these!" Ruby squealed. Then: "Waaaiiiit. YOU made these swords?" Her eyes positively sparkled.

"I sure did," the man confirmed.

"THEN THAT MUST MEAN – " Papyrus looked to Sora.

"Only one thing!" Sora said in return.

Together, Papyrus and Sora looked back to the man, and said as one, "YOU MAKE OTHER COOL WEAPONS, TOO!"

"Does that maybe tell you anything ELSE about him?" Stork groaned.

"Uhhh…" Sora scratched his head.

"NOTHING IS COMING TO MIND," Papyrus admitted.

"XAVIER!" Stork cried. "HE'S XAVIER!"

"OHHHHH," Sora and Papyrus realized.

"Sometimes," Stork grumbled, "I can NOT believe you – " He decided that thought was better left unfinished. "Never mind."

Sora and Papyrus both had a good idea of what he was about to say, and had they not known there were more pressing conversational concerns, they would have brought up that they both felt slightly hurt by the implication.

"I take it you were looking for me," Xavier said jovially.

"We were," Jasmine confirmed, stepping forth. "The baker down the hill told us you're knowledgeable about the legends of this kingdom."

"I know a thing or two," Xavier confirmed. "What did you want to know?"

"We're actually looking for the sundrop of Corona," Jasmine explained.

"And why would a person be looking for a thing like that?" Xavier asked.

"We're afraid it might fall into the wrong hands," Jasmine told him.

Xavier smiled at her. "You know," he said, "there's something about you I just can't help but trust. But you should know she's not just gonna let the wrong people take her without a fight."

"She?" Jasmine repeated.

"How much do you know about that sundrop?" Xavier asked.

"We heard it was used by the queen when she was giving birth," Jasmine related.

"To somebody named 'Rapunzel'!" Sora chimed in.

"You're not from around here, are you?" Xavier asked.

"Well, no," Sora admitted.

"I figured as much," Xavier said with a wink, looking to Stork and Papyrus. "You probably had a long journey."

Papyrus then realized that Xavier saw Papyrus and Stork for what they were, and he was still speaking to them with a smile. This warmed his heart.

"If you were from around here," Xavier continued, "you'd know that Rapunzel is the princess of Corona. And a kind person she is. We're lucky that the throne is in her hands someday. But she's got a long way to go before she gets there. Rapunzel happens to be an acquaintance of mine, and whenever she talks, I can see it in her eyes. That sundrop went into her when the queen gave birth. She is the sundrop."

"The sundrop is a PERSON?" Sora said in awe.

"Oh," Stork remarked, "that's bad."

"This does make things more complicated," Jasmine admitted. "The person we were worrying about wouldn't be kind to her at all. She might be in danger."

"She's good at taking care of herself," Xavier explained, "though a little extra help wouldn't hurt. King Frederic announced that she left the kingdom to follow her destiny. Now, no one's quite sure what that is, but I've got a feeling it has something to do with the black rocks. Old Corona was plagued with a whole bunch of sharp black rocks that sprouted up when the sundrop flower was first picked. Not too long ago, they apparently calmed down and formed something that looked like a road. If I had to guess, I'd say Rapunzel went down that road. But that was a while ago. You'd have a ways to catch up."

"Oh, we can catch up," Stork said slyly, thinking of the Gummi ship.

"Where did the road lead?" Jasmine asked.

"In the end?" Xavier replied. "No one knows. But it was headed in the general direction of the city of Vardaros. I'd be willing to bet Rapunzel made a stop there if you wanted to check in with her. Hurry and you just might catch her there. I'd be careful, though. Vardaros has both a good and a bad reputation."

"We can handle it!" Sora declared proudly.

"Thank you," Jasmine told Xavier. "You've been a big help."

"Now, mind you," Xavier said, "I wouldn't have told you any of this if I didn't think you could be trusted. But my gut's never been wrong yet. Something tells me you're here to do good. And because of that, you're welcome."

"We should go, then," Jasmine declared.

"Waitwaitwait!" Ruby cried. "What about Kazuichi?"

"What ABOUT me?" Kazuichi asked.

"You don't have a weapon," Ruby reminded him, "and if Mozenrath got to Rapunzel before us, we're gonna need to fight to protect her! We should at least get you a sword! Or something cool like an axe!"

"I don't know how to wield anything like that!" Kazuichi responded in a panic. "And I think you're just using me as an excuse to get a weapon!"

"YOU PROBABLY SHOULD HAVE A WAY TO DEFEND YOURSELF," Papyrus pointed out.

"But giving him a sword he doesn't know how to use would do more harm than good," Katara argued. "He could hurt himself with it!"

"I wouldn't be THAT bad with it," Kazuichi huffed. "I'm still not a big fan of the idea, though. If I'm going to get a weapon, it should be something more…well…me!"

"You don't really seem like a sword guy or an axe guy," Sora observed. "We'll think about it some more."

"You don't have to fight for now," Jasmine assured Kazuichi. "We can handle the heavy lifting."

"I don't want the princess to get taken away because of me, though," Kazuichi said despondently.

"It won't happen!" Sora assured him. "We'll save her no matter what! Now let's get going to Vardaros!" He paused. "Um…which way is Vardaros?"

"There's a shop three blocks down that can sell you a map," Xavier said with a smile.

"LET'S GO!" Ruby cried, taking off at a run before once more realizing her mistake and returning to the group. "Walking," she said meekly.

* * *

Once the sun had set, the Huntsman returned to the garage of the Smith in full garb, head and face covered. He was glad to note that others were filing in at the same time as him. They turned to regard him as he passed; with his helmet on, he cut an impressive figure, and everyone recognized him as the leader of the pack.

The Smith passed out black iron spears with gems set in their handles to everyone who entered. Between himself and the Huntsman, they had rounded up a full outfit of thirty, counting the Smith. Every spear got an owner, with no one wanting for a weapon.

The Huntsman took his place at the end of the garage, where the others all fixed their eyes upon him. He had asked them all to come masked, and they had done so, albeit in crude, mismatched ways ranging from Halloween leftovers to simple bandannas tied around the lower half of the face. The Smith had procured a masquerade mask for himself, plain black; even though he and the Huntsman had seen each other's face, he recognized the paradigm shift that required them both to act as though they had not.

The crowd waited quietly, without a murmur. Only five were women, the Huntsman noted as he scanned them. "You all know why you have come here," he announced, projecting his voice across the garage.

He was met with silence, but it was the sort of silence that conveyed affirmation.

"We share a common desire," the Huntsman stated. "The desire to rid this world of the creatures that poison it. In days past, I only trusted the elite, those born with the dragon mark upon their bodies, to carry out our mission. Now, however, I find myself without their forces. The task now falls to you. You must carry the strength within your spirits to make up for the lack of the mark. You must be prepared to wield the spear you carry into battle. If any of you feels as though you are not adequate, leave now. There will be no weakness among this army."

The thirty stood still, fixing determined glares upon the Huntsman. Good, he thought. This was an admirable team. "We strike tonight in Central Park," he explained. "We are to begin by rooting out every magical creature we find. And we will find a great many within the park. It is practically a breeding ground. Their peril will draw out the American Dragon from hiding, and once it does, our goal becomes singular: to slay the dragon. Is this clear?"

"YES!" the crowd barked in unison.

"SLAY THE DRAGON!" the Huntsman cried, lifting the huntstaff high.

The crowd followed suit with their spears, turning the Huntsman's cry into a chant: "SLAY THE DRAGON! SLAY THE DRAGON!"

Already, listening to their repetition, the Huntsman felt secure in his decision. Failure hardly seemed like a possibility. All that was needed was loyalty and common ground. Friendship was not even part of the equation.

"WE MOVE!" the Huntsman bellowed, pointing his staff toward the far door.

The crowd immediately turned to quickly filter out. Under cover of the night, the new Huntsclan, as the Huntsman was already beginning to think of them, was on the move toward Central Park.

* * *

"There it is," Gothel announced as the four horses neared a sprawling city situated in the midst of a canyon. "Vardaros. Dreadful place."

"Actually," Hans remarked, looking over the general brown aesthetic of the metropolitan area, "this is a lot less of an eyesore than Corona was."

"It's almost pleasant," Snatcher agreed.

"We should walk from here," Gothel suggested. "You don't want to take a horse into city traffic."

Gothel, Snatcher, Hans, Demyx, and Roman dismounted, and the horses were tethered to a nearby post. As they continued on their way into the city, they happened to catch a rather odd duo on their way out.

They moved furtively, hoping not to be spotted as they made their escape. One was slight, with a honey-colored ponytail flowing from beneath his tall, pointed black hat; his face was sharp, with one eye swollen shut in what seemed to be a permanent fixture. The other was tall and bulky, his face hidden beneath a metal mask that left not an inch visible.

The pair glanced behind them at Vardaros as they made their getaway; Roman took advantage of this, extending the Cudgel before the skinny one. The target tripped, his larger companion not even stopping to assist him and keeping on running instead.

"Well, well," Snatcher remarked as he and his four assembled around the fallen runner. "In quite a hurry to leave Vardaros, aren't we?" He assumed Roman had stymied the man for more than just amusement; he knew Snatcher would want him as a source of information. It was almost frustrating how Snatcher recognized Roman was still on the same page as him.

"You leave me alone," the man growled. "You don't know who you're dealin' with."

Gothel gave a sharp laugh at that. "It's five against one," she reminded the man. "If you're looking for a fight, you picked the wrong place, the wrong time, and the wrong people."

The thin man gave a snarl at that, knowing he couldn't argue against that logic.

"Something tells me we've run into exactly the right person," Hans mused. "Someone this feisty has to be part of the city's seedy underbelly."

"Your deductive reasoning has yet to be improved, Mr. Westergard," Snatcher replied. "Given this man's reaction to threaten us immediately, one can easily tell he is, in actuality, involved in some sort of unsavory activity where he holds – or held – a position of power. Given his rushed escape, my instincts suggest to me the latter."

"That is seriously what I just said," Hans growled, "rephrased."

"Now, then." Snatcher nudged the thin man's chin upward with the toe of his shoe. "Who, exactly, ARE we dealing with?"

"Anthony the Weasel," the thin man growled. "And I'll have you know I'm one of the inner circle of the Baron."

"I've heard the name of the Baron thrown around," Gothel realized. "He's known as far as Corona. Just a crime boss. They come and go."

"Where's the Baron to save you now, huh?" Demyx taunted.

"He fell prey to a minor setback," the Weasel (and how appropriate that name was, Snatcher thought, the more he looked at the man) related. "But mark my words, he'll be back again to seize control of Vardaros! Him and Stalyan both!"

"So this Baron has also left Vardaros," Snatcher deduced. "As have multiple of his associates. The Stallion and yourself." Upon hearing the name of the Baron's daughter, his mind immediately assumed it was spelled in the way of the horse, and went on to hypothesize that the Baron's entire coterie had animal names of some sort: the Stallion, the Weasel. "Who, might I ask, is running the city as we speak?"

"No one in the way the Baron did," the Weasel spat. "No one in the way he will again. First things first, we've got to get rid of that Quaid…and snuff out that pretentious princess."

"Why am I not surprised Rapunzel is up to trouble again?" Gothel sighed. "After all my work, that girl still doesn't know how to behave!"

"So who's Quaid?" Demyx asked.

"Captain of law enforcement," the Weasel growled. "Past his prime. We should've been able to take him out easily. And we'll do so when the Baron returns."

"From what I can glean," Snatcher stated, "this Baron's fall has left quite the power vacuum in Vardaros' criminal sect, hasn't it?"

"And you intend to fill it?" the Weasel guessed.

"Smart man," Snatcher told him.

"You won't succeed where the Baron failed," the Weasel warned. "Then again…you won't even get past me."

He leapt to his feet in a blink, drawing a knife and plunging it toward Snatcher. Snatcher, having suspected the Weasel would try such a move, had been standing with one foot planted behind the other; he pivoted, twirling gracefully out of the knife's trajectory. Hans kicked his knee upward into the Weasel's stomach while Gothel seized his knife arm, holding it up the man's back while Roman playfully plucked the knife away.

"I respectfully beg to differ, Mr. Weasel," Snatcher stated. "We've strength you don't understand. Mr. Demyx, would you give him a slight demonstration to send him on his way?"

"You're gonna wanna move out of the way," Demyx told Gothel rather sheepishly.

She let go of the Weasel, who turned to Demyx, drawing back his fist; Demyx's sitar had already materialized.

A chord of music sent a wave of water crashing into the Weasel, washing him further down the road. Now thoroughly panicked, never having seen someone command water itself before, the Weasel turned to run; Demyx sent several geysers of water after him to hasten his speed.

"I daresay we have learned something quite valuable about this city," Snatcher remarked.

"You put him in his place and got what you wanted," Gothel said admiringly. "I like that."

Snatcher hoped he wasn't reading from her tone what he thought he was reading. "Shall we proceed, then?" he suggested.

The five moved further into the city, staking out a particularly shadowy alley to use as a temporary base. Barrels lined either side of the alley, and Snatcher, thinking them fine seats, took a sitting position on one of them.

"You know, I can see this punchline coming from a mile away," Hans said smugly as he took his own seat across from Snatcher. "There's no way that barrel can hold your weigh – "

That was exactly when Hans' barrel gave way under him, causing Hans to fall into it. Demyx was immediately moved to laughter.

"Demyx," Hans grunted as he attempted to escape the barrel; Snatcher, Roman, and Gothel were making no move to help him. "You're supposed to be on my side here."

Roman and Gothel took seats to either side of Snatcher, albeit Roman's was a good distance away; their barrels all held strong. Demyx simply leaned up against the wall. Once Hans had ditched the remains of his barrel, he took a similar position near Demyx. "So let me guess," Hans groaned. "This is the part where Archibald decides he immediately has the best plan and orders us all around, completely missing the point of this mission in the first place."

"The point of this mission is to retrieve the sundrop," Snatcher growled. "And once more, I demand you refer to me by my surname."

"Once more, I demand you use my title," Hans rebutted. "And half the point of this mission was for us to get along."

"A goal we are never to reach so long as you and Mr. Demyx remain part of this operation," Snatcher argued.

"Here's the thing," Hans told him. "Neither of us tried to humiliate, possibly murder, you in public and then recorded the results to throw in your face later."

Roman gritted his teeth and gave Hans an incredibly sour look.

"Torchwick's wrongdoings will be dealt with later," Snatcher snapped. "At least I know he can be reasoned with. The two of you, on the other hand, do as you please with little regard to the notion of respect."

"It's not my fault you're offended by everything," Hans argued.

"I sensed there was some tension here," Gothel commented. "Is this going to get awkward?"

"No more than it has been," Snatcher said in a surly tone.

"You think we're the ones not doing any work to help the group get along?" Hans accused. "YOU'RE the one who hasn't even been giving us an inch to move. You've been rephrasing my ideas so it sounds like you had them! And you're not even convincing!"

"My dues," Snatcher told him, "for having to endure constant insults from you."

"What is even your problem?" Hans asked.

"My problem is YOU!" Snatcher stood up straight to look Hans in the eye. "You, the both of you, have instigated every single incident that has brought us to our current situation! Blame us all you wish for our reactions, but you knew quite well how we would respond to your antics! For what reason, exactly, did you wish to bring that out of us? For a laugh? For a lark? Out of genuine hatred? If you're so determined to see this mission through in entirety, then I demand an answer!"

For a moment, Hans and Demyx were silent. Then Demyx muttered, "I'm doing my best for the guy that didn't ask to join in the first place."

"You've done your best, all right," Snatcher argued. "Your best at undermining us!"

"Geez, I didn't know you were so sensitive about it," Demyx groaned.

"I am not SENSITIVE!" Snatcher roared. "Not in any sense of the word! I have simply spent far too long listening to the likes of you repeat the insults I've heard my whole life, and if that's what you mean to make of this alliance, I won't stand for it in the slightest!"

"That really sounds like you're being sensitive," Demyx pointed out. "Do you have some issues here, or…?"

"I REFUSE TO DISCUSS ANYTHING OF THE SORT WITH THE LIKES OF YOU!" Snatcher barked. "I PUT THE LIKES OF YOU BEHIND ME LONG AGO, AND I WILL NOT PUT UP WITH ENDURING IT ALL OVER AGAIN!"

There was a silence before Hans said, "You're not the only one who had to put the past behind him, you know."

"Like the Organization," Demyx sighed. "Which this is turning out to be all over again."

"If this problem has happened to you not once, but twice," Snatcher stated, "then the problem most certainly lies with you."

"Look," Hans broke in. "Demyx is…free-spirited."

"I can tell by the way he refuses to pull his weight," Snatcher grunted.

"I don't think he was actually trying to hurt anyone," Hans argued. "Maybe he didn't go about having fun in the nicest way. But he was just – "

"No, no," Demyx sighed, "it's totally me. I don't do well on teams, remember? I just thought this time, it would be different from the Organization, because back there, everyone was just wrapped up in their little angst zone. I dunno, I thought it' be a different story with you guys."

"If I can make a suggestion?" Gothel chimed in. "I think I know what his problem is."

"Huh?" Demyx did a double take.

"Well, obviously he didn't like anyone in his last Organization," Gothel said, "and everyone was so focused on themselves – "

"He'd think his actions had no consequences," Snatcher realized. "Of course, of course. Never given a REASON to respect anyone."

"I'm right here, you know!" Demyx sputtered.

"Did they even so much as threaten you for getting things wrong?" Gothel asked.

"Nah," Demyx confirmed. "Xemnas was always too busy monologuing at the moon to pay any attention to – hey, wait a minute! You don't get to tell me about me!"

"It seems simple enough to me," Gothel said. "If you want things to be like they were in the Organization, keep being an idiot. But if you want things to be different, YOU'RE going to have to be different."

"Quite that," Snatcher agreed. "Exactly. Most astute, Miss Gothel."

"Wait," Demyx said, "so if I stop pulling pranks on you guys, you guys might actually like me. Legitimately like me."

"AND do your share of work," Snatcher reminded him. "A category in which you fail most dreadfully."

"I'll think about it," Demyx said. "But I make no promises."

"As for you, Mr. Westergard," Snatcher said, rounding on his next opponent, "what excuse do you have to offer?"

"Same as Demyx," Hans stated. "Trying to fit in."

"Through insults and disrespect."

"Trying to fit in and make a name for myself," Hans clarified. "Look. I get it. I'm not founder-level. But I'm not a grunt, either. I'm worth way more than you take me for."

"Strong words," Snatcher told him, "given that we only met you some short days ago. You've yet to prove ANYTHING to us of your worth."

"Look, my whole life has been trying to prove my worth," Hans said sternly. "I've been trying to figure out where I can hold actual power since day one. You don't know what I've been through. You can't understand how I've been turned down over and over and over again."

"Being turned down from a position of power is my life, Mr. Westergard," Snatcher rebutted. "If you mean to insinuate I cannot understand that, you'd best start coming up with better excuses."

"My own family wouldn't even let me in," Hans went on. "They shut me out at every turn. From my brothers pretending I didn't exist to my parents wishing I was someone else. I got told point-blank by my father that so long as I was what I was, I would never see the throne, not even if everyone else in my family died all at once and left me next in line, and oh, believe me, I thought about making that a reality. That's when I got the idea to seduce my way into someone else's throne. Not only would I get what I wanted, but my parents would finally have the son they wanted when they saw me with a queen. I even went right for Elsa, and everyone KNEW how she felt about people like me. It took me years to figure out it was them who were wrong and that I wasn't some freak of nature just because I was gay."

Snatcher had to admit he hadn't seen that coming. Of course he had known Hans was attracted to men; he was outright dating Mozenrath. And he had assumed Hans had little to no interest in women. Yet it never occurred to him that Hans' story and Snatcher's might be so similar. "I, er…I understand that quite well," Snatcher admitted. "Better than you'd think."

Hans looked at him with curiosity then. "You too?"

"I kept it secret from all but those I trusted," Snatcher told him. "I knew quite well that once it got out, I was ruined."

"I should've done that from the start," Hans sighed. "Would've made things a lot easier."

"We needn't concern ourselves with them," Snatcher grunted.

"I know that now," Hans told him. "But you get it now, right? Why I need this. Why I need to be more than just your underling."

"Why you resent us, you mean," Snatcher clarified.

"Admittedly…yes," Hans said gruffly.

"You're not excused from acting out," Snatcher told him. "But it does cast things in a clearer light now."

"How'd you figure it out?" Hans asked. "That everyone else didn't really matter."

"Learning the hard way, at first," Snatcher replied. "Then hearing from – "

Roman perked up with attention.

" – from someone trusted," Snatcher finished, "that the ones who kept me down were insignificant."

Roman leaned back against the wall, feeling rather smug that he'd at least been referenced in that way.

"So that's what you meant," Hans realized. "When you said you wouldn't put up with 'the likes of us' again. You've heard it all before. People making fun of you."

"I have," Snatcher said coldly.

"Maybe if I'd known that – " Hans cut himself off. "You know, Mr. Snatcher, you're really a smart guy. I haven't been fair about a lot of things about you. Superficial things. But you do have a way with people. I bet you could talk Princess Rapunzel into coming with us and she wouldn't think anything of it."

"Perhaps you could do the same, Prince Westergard," Snatcher replied. "After all, appealing to women has been your strategy."

They smiled at each other then, having finally reached an understanding.

"And, I mean," Hans went on, "Roman's not much in the manipulation department, no offense, but he's really not as much of a disaster on the battlefield as I give him grief for."

"THANK you!" Roman blurted.

"It does talk," Gothel said in surprise.

"To people who are actually nice to me," Roman clarified. "Which, right now, is you and Sideburns."

"The same applies to Mr. Demyx," Snatcher stated. "Once he actually puts his mind to making an effort. Would that Mr. Weasel could see what he could REALLY do."

"And send Roman after him for good measure," Hans added. Then, to Roman directly, "Or do you prefer 'Mr. Torchwick'?"

"You get to use my first name," Roman told him.

"We could practically install Misters Demyx and Torchwick in the place of the Baron," Snatcher said offhandedly. "They're certainly suited for the…" His eyes widened. "That's it."

"What's it?" Hans asked.

"A two-pronged strategy," Snatcher realized. "We create a threat: Misters Demyx and Torchwick stepping up to fill the power vacuum. While that occurs, Prince Westergard, Miss Gothel, and I corner the princess directly. Miss Gothel will offer her former daughter a safe haven: a return to familiarity. Play to her sympathies. Lord Westergard and I shall back up her argument, convincing her that should she stay, she will fall victim to these wicked criminal usurpers, while the three of us only want the best for her. It's practically foolproof!"

"And if she doesn't wanna go?" Demyx asked.

"Then you and Torchwick will carry out the threat promised," Snatcher stated. "Once she sees you're serious, she'll have little choice."

"Maybe rough up a couple people from her caravan," Hans suggested. "Drown one of them for effect."

"I like this plan," Demyx said with a smile. "It's a good plan."

"It plays on everyone's strengths," Hans added.

"I have wanted a reunion," Gothel contributed.

Roman begrudgingly handed Snatcher a thumbs-up.

"We've simply got to wait to strike at the right time," Snatcher explained. "It will take more reconnaissance. More knowledge of the princess' whereabouts."

"Watch her not even be here," Demyx groaned.

Snatcher took out the compass, giving it a look. "I wouldn't be too sure of that," he said slyly. When he tilted the compass, all could see the needle was pointing back in the direction from which they'd come. "Assuming her journey has taken her on a direct path…we've already passed her."

"Then we break for recon!" Demyx declared. "I swear I'll actually do it this time."

"First things first," Snatcher muttered, "I've got to have a drink of water. This climate is abysmal. We rendez-vous here in an hour."

"Sounds fair," Hans agreed.

"One hour!" Demyx chimed in.

"See you then," Gothel said in a sultry voice.

Roman just nodded.

As Snatcher left the alleyway, he thought the others had dispersed behind him, each heading their own way. He continued down the road, seeking any means of obtaining water: perhaps a public well or fountain.

He felt an arm link with his own and a head lean on his shoulder as someone fell into step beside him. "Torchwick," he grunted, "what could POSSIBLY make you think now is the – "

"Wrong," an all-too-feminine voice said right in his ear. "Want to guess again?"

Snatcher flinched, pushing Gothel off him. "What is the meaning of this?" he barked.

"Just that we make a great team," Gothel said, her voice syrupy. "Don't you think?"

"I can see what you want," Snatcher said curtly, "and it seems you weren't paying attention. I've no interest in women."

"That can't stop a girl from dreaming, can it?" Gothel replied.

Snatcher was trying to figure out exactly what to reply to get her to leave when she changed her tone; "Oh, I'm only having a little fun. Besides, it sounds like you're already involved with the redhead. Though that does seem to be on the rocks…"

"Miss Gothel," Snatcher said in a warning tone.

"I understand," she said flippantly. "You have plans to plan. I'll leave you be. Great minds need solitude to think, after all."

She sauntered away, leaving Snatcher wondering if she had really taken his words to heart. He had spelled out his sexuality in no uncertain terms. Surely she couldn't think to defy that.

Contenting himself with that thought, he continued on his way, keeping a sharp eye out for anything that it might prove useful to remember.

* * *

As the sun set over Radiant Garden, the first of the dark shapes climbed high into the night, held aloft by artificial wings. The lower the sun dipped in the sky, the more identical figures joined it, hovering in the sky, waiting.

Streetlamps illuminated; light poured from windows. They couldn't get close yet. More and more of them climbed into the air, no one noticing them against the darkness of the sky.

Once night had fallen completely, the trio moved swiftly through the underground passages leading to the power center of Radiant Garden.

"We should've taken a left at that last turn!" the blonde-haired Turk Elena complained.

"I know what I'm doing!" Reno argued.

Tall, bald, and sunglass-bearing Rude simply sighed in frustration. He knew Elena was right, but he felt obligated to take Reno's side nonetheless.

Eventually, they made it to the generation plant. A great turbine spun in the midst of a vast chamber lit by hundreds of blinking lights. Reno approached the turbine, locating the cord that hooked it to the generator.

"This is the one," he said proudly.

"Lights on," Elena declared; she and Rude produced glowing spherical crystals from their pockets.

Reno drew a knife from his belt, flicking open the blade. "Shame we get to miss all the action," he sighed.

"Someone will come and check this plant out once the chaos begins," Rude reminded him. "Then we will see action."

"I can't wait to knock THEIR lights out," Elena giggled.

In one swift movement, Reno slashed the cable.

All over town, streetlights winked out. The luminescence of every building went dormant. In one fell swoop, Radiant Garden, all but the castle, went completely dark.

There was a moment's panic from the citizens, but they assumed the lights would be back on momentarily after some repairs were made. The anxiety they felt then was nothing compared to the fear that would come.

Because as soon as the city went dark, the Nightcrawlers that had been assembling in the sky descended.

They began to destroy whatever they could find the moment they landed, tossing explosive crystals and bringing down walls. People spilled out of destroyed buildings into the streets, now truly panicked.

And once they did, the hundred Weasels were there to greet them, armed to the teeth with blades and guns.

It took almost no time for the city to transition from tranquility to utter pandemonium. Fires sprang up where the Turks tossed Molotov cocktails; the Nightcrawlers shied away with hisses, turning their attention on cornering people in the darker alleys to rip away all the valuables they were carrying at Sykes' command.

The Turks spilled into the rich shopping district, looting it for all it was worth. A massive shuriken spun through the air and shattered a store window, leaving it open for a slight brunette woman to leap through. Leblanc hovered in over the woman's shoulder as she hoisted up her massive weapon.

"Well, take your pick," Cissnei offered.

"You know quite well I want all of them," Leblanc huffed. "Now get to work filling the bag!"

"Yes, your highness," Cissnei teased, opening a large sack and raiding the shelves of their dresspheres.

"YOU!" The owner of that particular store, who lived in an apartment above the sales floor, came storming down the stairway to the main level, his husband and son in tow. "What do you think you're doing to my wares?" The store owner hoisted up a baseball bat.

"Cute weapon," Cissnei remarked, setting down the bag in order to pick up her shuriken. "Tell you what. I'm gonna give you to the count of ten to leave."

"Let's just go!" the store owner's husband hissed.

Gingerly, the family made their way toward the door as Cissnei waggled the shuriken menacingly, on the brink of throwing. "Take whatever you want!" the owner said in a quivering tone. "Enjoy it! It'll look good on you!"

"Six," Cissnei told them. "Seeeeveeeeen…"

"Eightnineten!" Leblanc barked, flicking a fan in her hand.

For such a tiny weapon, the burst of wind it emitted was large enough to blow the three tormented right out the door and into the street, where Cissnei and Leblanc could already hear the screams of the people pursued by the Weasels. With a shrug, Cissnei returned to filling the bag as Leblanc urged her to go faster.

The residential districts were the territory of the Weasels; the Patrol took charge in one of the largest neighborhoods. The weasel known as Stupid, wearing a striped shirt and a cap with a propeller set atop it, chased a crowd of screaming teenagers down the street as he swung his baseball bat shot through with a nail. Wheezy, a blue weasel who had mastered the art of smoking multiple cigarettes at once while firing a Tommy gun, opened fire on the youths Stupid had rounded up. From a perpendicular street, Psycho the weasel, dressed in a straitjacket that was loosened enough to give him arm mobility, let out a piercing giggle as he slit the throat of a hapless victim with a straight razor. The green-suited weasel called Greasy used a pistol to break open the lock of a house before swapping it out for his switchblade as he pursued the residents, who were by that time crawling out the windows in hopes of making it to safety.

Where shops and homes intersected, in a square illuminated by flames, Smartass strode to the center, twirling a revolver around his finger. Tseng approached from the opposite direction, tensely holding up a machine gun.

"Your men are doing a sloppy job," Tseng spat, "but it will work."

"Just tell me your guys is pickin' up the loot," Smartass responded. "Or are youse too busy shinin' your matchin' shoes to contradict to the pot?"

"Contribute," Tseng muttered. "And my people are doing their part. You'll see a return at the end of the night. So long as we see our share."

"Then we's don't got a problem for once in our lives," Smartass told him.

Horace Badun excitedly shook a cash register over a bag that Jasper held out; it was the fifth one they'd broken into. "We're gonna be rich!" Jasper laughed.

"You ain't scared of those Nightcrawlers, are you?" Horace asked nervously, spotting the shadowy forms of Maleficent's dark army swishing by.

"Ah, ain't nothin' to be afraid of," Jasper told his brother. "Any of 'em crosses me, I'll give 'em a good whack to the head." He held up the club he preferred to carry into battle.

"I think it'll take more than a whack to the head to slow them down!" Horace worried.

"They haven't bothered us all night," Jasper assured Horace. "Now scrape the last of that munny into the bag! It's about time to meet up with the boss and head for the vault!"

On their way out, they passed Medusa, who had simply draped herself in almost an entire shop's inventory of magical jewelry. "Gorgeous!" she proclaimed, admiring the red rings on her fingers, the yellow stones on her wrist, the blue pendant dangling from her neck. "Simply gorgeous! And worth an absolute fortune!"

A civilian came running down the street, seizing Medusa's shoulders and shaking her. "Help me!" the man cried. "Oh, gods, help me!"

"Get off!" Medusa sharply kicked the man in the stomach before picking up the rifle she'd carried with her into this mission as opposed to driving the Huntsclan skimmer. "You absolute nuisance!" She was quicker than her victim; the shot's noise was lost among the sounds of breaking glass, falling stone walls, and screams.

In the living room of one of the smaller houses of the residential district, a family cowered as a four-legged shadow cast over them, its source pacing before them. "I might be persuaded to let you go without a scratch," Scar said smoothly, "so long as you hand over what I want quietly."

The mother of the family, the only adult, urged her children, "Go upstairs. Now." Once the youngsters had scurried away for their lives, the woman declared, "I'll give you anything you want."

"Let's start with your money, shall we?" Scar decided. "If I'm feeling generous, I might let you keep your jewelry when we're done."

The Joker had no such decorum. He had beaten a man, a woman, and their teenage daughter into submission while he ransacked their bedroom. "The money is only a bonus, you know," he informed them. "It's not really what I came for."

"What did you – " the girl struggled to say.

"No!" her mother hissed. "Don't talk to him!"

"What I really came to do," the Joker announced, drawing from his coat an unlit Molotov, "was this."

He held a lighter to the rag, then tossed the bottle. As the bedroom went up in flames, he threw open the wide window, launching himself from the second floor. Since the incident at Blackmoor Manor, he had equipped himself with some new toys; a small pink rubber object was launched at the ground, expanding into an enormous whoopee cushion. The Joker landed safely, bouncing a little on the cushion as it made a reverberating sound of flatulence. He then skipped away cheerily with his bag of loot as the home he'd infiltrated burst into flames behind him.

Sykes awaited the others in the front square, his pockets lined with money and jewels. He patiently smoked another cigarette; the Huntsclan-issue axe at his side dripped with blood that pooled on the cobblestones below. Soon, the Baduns, Medusa, Scar, and the Joker filtered in from around the square; Sykes was almost amused by how much Medusa's haul glittered in the firelight. "Ready to go claim the big prize?" he asked.

"I don't want to go," the Joker pouted. "It's FUN out here."

"Well, we're going!" Medusa yelled, pointing her rifle directly at the Joker. "And don't you slow us down!"

"Oh, calm down," the Joker told her, casually pushing the barrel aside. "It was only a joke."

"You had better lead on before they start a civil war," Scar advised.

"Besides, I wanna see the real loot!" Jasper urged.

"We'll leave the chump change to the amateurs," Sykes declared as he turned to walk down the road that led to the edge of town; the others fell in step beside him. "We're going to take a little trip to see the ice cream man."


End file.
